Break out the potables, the UPS guy delivered boxes of bookses to me today. Shiny, pretty bookses!
Alas, I am too tired and too aware of certain Issues not resolved to my satisfaction to be doing the happy author-with-new-book dance.
Still. Is good bookses. *pets bookses* Good stuff in there. Am pleased and very happy to have them on the shelf. If I weren't so tired I would at least give them a woo-hoo wiggle.
(Anyone wanna do the dance for me? anyone want to do my laundry for me? Anyone want to do my filing for me? no? Darn. I need a minion-refill)
And to celebrate, another reviewer is heard from...
"...Gilman avoids formulaic plot devices and sappy sentimentality; the emotions and problems that threatens the relationship are genuine and convincing....(A) good read."
-- Don D'Ammassa
And An Excerpt!
“Well. That was fun.”
“It was?”
“Zhenchenka. Hush.”
They were standing in the lobby of the building, pulling on gloves and wrapping scarves before going out into the wintery weather. It wasn’t snowing, but the wind was fierce, and the bare limbs of the saplings outside looked to be shivering. Sergei had bought her a pair of fleece-lined leather gloves when the first snap of cold weather hit, and while they were an almost decadent buttery lambskin, she was still breaking them down to a useable flexibility.
“I was useless in there,” she continued, flexing her fingers inside the leather. “I came up with nothing, contributed nothing… I might as well have stayed in the shadows, for all the good I did.”
“You were extremely useful in there.” Michaela was firm on that. “Both in the briefing you gave me beforehand and the advice you were able to give me on-going, about our esteemed companions.”
True, Wren had been able to head off a few potential missteps, as Michaela had never worked with griffins before, and made the usual errors of thinking of them, however subconsciously, as smart animals instead of peers.
“And now you will be even more valuable. To us, and to the Cosa overall.”
Sergei’s managerial antenna perked up, and he looked at Michaela, his eyes squinting suspiciously at her too innocent tone.
“How valuable?”
“Beyond price.”
“By which she means, beyond payment.” The two women grinned at each other, more a grimace of stress than real amusement, and then Wren sighed, resigned again to her fate. “All right, what are you about to sign me up for, now?”
“Keep the lines of communication open.”
“Huh?”
“Keep them talking to each other,” Michaela elaborated.
“Keep who what?”
“Don’t be dense, Valere.” Michaela pushed the door open and went outside, leaving the other two no choice but to follow her. Wren gasped a little as the cold air hit her face. You forgot, sitting in an overheated conference room, how cold cold actually was. “All three sides of the equation; lonejack, fatae and Council. The idea of a truce is all well and good, but we need to also be able to figure things out. Which means communication. They’re going to need a push, all of them, to remember why it’s important to play nice. We need someone who can get close enough to make that push.”
“You can do that,” Sergei said, nodding. He took her arm, and then crooked his other so that Michaela could slide her hand under his elbow, which she did.
“Do what?” Wren felt like an idiot, but she had lost them at the last sharp turn in the conversation.
“Keep everyone talking,” Michaela repeated, as though speaking to a child. “You and the demon. You started that, created the first bridge, with your friendships among the Council, your familiarity with the fatae breeds. Now we need you to maintain it.” Her voice softened. “It’s what Lee—“
“Michaela. Don’t. Go. There.” She might be willing to be manipulated, in a good cause, if they really needed her, but she would not allow them to use Lee’s memory to do it. Not yet. Not ever.
Alas, I am too tired and too aware of certain Issues not resolved to my satisfaction to be doing the happy author-with-new-book dance.
Still. Is good bookses. *pets bookses* Good stuff in there. Am pleased and very happy to have them on the shelf. If I weren't so tired I would at least give them a woo-hoo wiggle.
(Anyone wanna do the dance for me? anyone want to do my laundry for me? Anyone want to do my filing for me? no? Darn. I need a minion-refill)
And to celebrate, another reviewer is heard from...
"...Gilman avoids formulaic plot devices and sappy sentimentality; the emotions and problems that threatens the relationship are genuine and convincing....(A) good read."
-- Don D'Ammassa
And An Excerpt!
“Well. That was fun.”
“It was?”
“Zhenchenka. Hush.”
They were standing in the lobby of the building, pulling on gloves and wrapping scarves before going out into the wintery weather. It wasn’t snowing, but the wind was fierce, and the bare limbs of the saplings outside looked to be shivering. Sergei had bought her a pair of fleece-lined leather gloves when the first snap of cold weather hit, and while they were an almost decadent buttery lambskin, she was still breaking them down to a useable flexibility.
“I was useless in there,” she continued, flexing her fingers inside the leather. “I came up with nothing, contributed nothing… I might as well have stayed in the shadows, for all the good I did.”
“You were extremely useful in there.” Michaela was firm on that. “Both in the briefing you gave me beforehand and the advice you were able to give me on-going, about our esteemed companions.”
True, Wren had been able to head off a few potential missteps, as Michaela had never worked with griffins before, and made the usual errors of thinking of them, however subconsciously, as smart animals instead of peers.
“And now you will be even more valuable. To us, and to the Cosa overall.”
Sergei’s managerial antenna perked up, and he looked at Michaela, his eyes squinting suspiciously at her too innocent tone.
“How valuable?”
“Beyond price.”
“By which she means, beyond payment.” The two women grinned at each other, more a grimace of stress than real amusement, and then Wren sighed, resigned again to her fate. “All right, what are you about to sign me up for, now?”
“Keep the lines of communication open.”
“Huh?”
“Keep them talking to each other,” Michaela elaborated.
“Keep who what?”
“Don’t be dense, Valere.” Michaela pushed the door open and went outside, leaving the other two no choice but to follow her. Wren gasped a little as the cold air hit her face. You forgot, sitting in an overheated conference room, how cold cold actually was. “All three sides of the equation; lonejack, fatae and Council. The idea of a truce is all well and good, but we need to also be able to figure things out. Which means communication. They’re going to need a push, all of them, to remember why it’s important to play nice. We need someone who can get close enough to make that push.”
“You can do that,” Sergei said, nodding. He took her arm, and then crooked his other so that Michaela could slide her hand under his elbow, which she did.
“Do what?” Wren felt like an idiot, but she had lost them at the last sharp turn in the conversation.
“Keep everyone talking,” Michaela repeated, as though speaking to a child. “You and the demon. You started that, created the first bridge, with your friendships among the Council, your familiarity with the fatae breeds. Now we need you to maintain it.” Her voice softened. “It’s what Lee—“
“Michaela. Don’t. Go. There.” She might be willing to be manipulated, in a good cause, if they really needed her, but she would not allow them to use Lee’s memory to do it. Not yet. Not ever.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-04 08:55 pm (UTC)Enjoy! I'm dancing for you. Forget about the laundry, I barely get organised to do my own.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 11:21 pm (UTC)And I just figure eventually I'll be famous enough to rate a laundry boy. Or a cabana boy who does laundry? Is the laundry boy subordinate to the cabana boy, or are they peers? Inquiring minds need to know!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 04:59 am (UTC)And I vote cabana boy. Definitely. If he's got lots of nice abs, he's superior.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-04 09:04 pm (UTC)Looking forward to -- it's on the "budget for this one" list.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 11:23 pm (UTC)Hummm...
Date: 2007-05-07 04:33 am (UTC)Because I have the other three here for reviews, since I am not pleased with some of the idiots reviewing at Amazon.com?
Because I believe in you? Maybe more than I believe in my own reality?
;^)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-05 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-05 06:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-05 11:32 pm (UTC)And yay on the shiny new bookses, too. Must be nice, being an author. :-)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 11:24 pm (UTC)Beats the hell out of being a writer...
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-11 01:59 pm (UTC)Bookses...yesssss...we likes bookses, we does...