The reason why I haven’t posted anything since I pretty much moved everything over to WordPress is simple — I now have four different WP website/blogs that I maintain, and logging in and out is a PITA so I tend to stay logged into one and keep it that way.
That being said, it’s ridiculous that I’m paying for a blog over here and not using it, so, hello. New publishing stuff since April — I’ve published another Nicola paranormal romance novella, Shifter Woods: Roar, I have two short stories out in the new Future Classics anthology A Lone Star in the Sky, I’m thisclose to finishing book three in Nicola’s Two Thrones series, and I’ve submitted works to Carina Press and an agent.
New arting stuff — I now have 33 covers under my belt, which pleases me as a graphic artist, and I’ll be adding at least three more covers to that number before the end of the year. I knew buying that Wacom drawing tablet was going to be a good investment.
New personal stuff — this past summer in the clavicle of Texas has been remarkably mild, and according to the battery of medical tests I’ve had due to turning 50 and being eligible for ALL kinds of free screenings I’m relatively healthy and should continue to kick around for another twenty years or so, barring accident, murder, or incoming asteroid. The J Crew continue on their merry feline ways, the Bodacious Brit is both British and bodacious as always, and while I rather liked Episode 1 of Star Trek: Discovery I doubt that we’ll be paying for CBS Access because that way lies madness.
Oh, and apparently as of October 18th the Department of Homeland Security will start collecting social media information on all immigrants and their families/associates, so as the wife of a green card holder I presume that I’ll be watched by DC. Hello, boys!
Man, it’s been a hectic ten days or so, hence my lack of posting. Incoming house guest and associated house cleaning + unexpected trip back to the UK for the Bodacious Brit + two book covers + one character doll + getting the car safety inspection and new registration sticker = Mellie running around like a headless chicken. But right now the house is clean, I had a lovely dinner, the cats are snoozing, and there’s nothing nagging at me to be done. So that makes for a nice Saturday night.
A few nights ago, if you were on Twitter you might have noticed the hashtag #ThingsOnlyWomenWritersHear trending. Since I am 1) a woman writer and 2) have heard some astounding shit which has tempted me on more than one occasion to take the action shown above (I’ve managed to abstain by reminding myself that I’m a redhead and orange isn’t my power color), I posted a couple of tweets.
Man, this month pretty much flew by. I know I got various things done (the taxes, a start on the weightlifting, voting for the Nebulas, writing up outlines for the next two books, finishing a novella) but it seems like it was just February 28 a few days ago.
I love weightlifting. I love the burn in my muscles as I increase the weight 50%, 75%, 90% to my goal weight, then crank out another set. I love how quickly my body reacts to me weightlifting, throwing on muscle like there’s a fire sale at Muscle ‘R’ Us. I love walking around the free weights section of the gym, nodding at the other people in there while we do squats, bent over rows, and dumbbell shoulder presses. At first I felt a little uncomfortable, like they were looking at the fat chick and wondering why I was there instead of on the treadmill. Now, I recognize the regulars and they recognize me as we work our way around the different stations. I even love it when certain muscle groups scream at me in Sumerian (today it was my obliques) because I haven’t worked them for a while and “What the HELL, Mel?”
As you know (Bob), I not only write SF and fantasy as Melanie Fletcher, but I also write specfic romance as 
So the Brit is off at his bimonthly game night. In his absence, I thought I’d wrap up the tax paper wrangling, then do a little quilting in celebration of National Quilting Day.
Someone, and since she’s the only one who does this I’m pretty damn sure that her name rhymes with Bessica, had decided to pee all over my scarf. Why? Who knows. Maybe she was feeling ignored, maybe Jas had sat on it and she felt like re-establishing her territory, maybe she just felt like peeing on it. Not only that, she also managed to tag the balls of yarn inside the bag. I was admit that a large quantity of profanity was called into use at this moment, and Jessica (shown at right) promptly hightailed it out of the living room because she knew damn well what she’d done.
Melanie Fletcher 