Once in a Blue Moon just got an amazing review! I'm so excited:)http://ping.fm/wQRcM

The "Because I feel like it" contest

That's right, we're having a contest ... because I feel like it. LOL All you've got to do to enter is leave a comment here:)

The prize is an 8 1/2 x 11 envelope stuffed as full as I could get it with author swag. What kind of swag? Well, we've got a sample CD, note pads, pens, lots of bookmarks, autographed items, and business cards just to name a few.

And of course everything is not from me:) This is a mix of goodies from several different authors. So, what are you waiting for? Leave me a comment:)

He insulted my readers

The rudeness I mentioned yesterday is much worse than I at first thought. When I first read his email I'll admit I was steamed. So much in fact that I skimmed the middle (which was full of snide remarks) and attempted to find the point.

As I read it more closely today (thinking that perhaps I overreacted) I not only found that I'd had the correct response (in my opinion) but that this person also insulted my readers. That is low, really low.

Here is what he said, "I am just as liable to pull in as many like-minded nuckleheads with those character viewpoints as I may alienate those who do not appreciate the comments. Case in point, your writing."

Normally I don't let an angry email or some idiot upset me this much. Actually, I've never gotten an angry email from someone about my work and only one from an unfriendly author.

I think this upsets me so much because I used to work with this person and thought they would be happy that I was published and could maybe offer them a hand. But apparently he'd rather leave teeth marks on my hand and insult my wonderful readers. Btw, those of you I've met or have received letters from are just about the nicest people ever:)

Anyway, I'll get over it. I just wanted people to see a "clip" of what had me so upset. You know, so you guys won't think I'm crazy or anything.

Oh, and he misspelled knucklehead.

How rude

Someone I used to work with recently sent me a link to their fictional blog. After receiving the link twice I finally had a chance to look at it this morning. I tried for the sake of their feelings to find something nice to say, but couldn't. So, I wasn't going to say anything at all. That is until I read further and became more and more insulted.

Is there anything more infuriating as a reader than having something you find personal (like your heritage or your body) insulted? Even for the purposes of fiction I think it is inexcusable. If you write something and post it or publish it publicly then the purpose should be to entertain. That's just the way I feel about it. If you want to write your personal opinions then don't say it's fiction and have your main character (or in this case ONLY character) insult your audience.

This person states that it is an honor to be southern and that they would not include anyone from Florida or Atlanta in this honor. Oh yeah, I was pissed. I left a comment saying that just ten minutes over the state line into Florida we still consider ourselves southern and so does my family up in Atlanta. I also said that I found the comment insulting. Hey, they asked for my opinion. It was my personal opinion, but I didn't attack them nor did I make the comment "personal" toward them. I was commenting (as I had been asked to do) on the content of the blog.

Next thing you know I get back a page long email full of self-important blather ranting on about that's what they meant to do. That they intended to "alienate" the audience. Um ... you did want people to read this, right?

They ranted for a whole page and then insulted my work personally. This person looks down their nose at romance authors. Okay, my comment was professional and about the content. Their email was just flat rude and uncalled for. Although I can't understand why anyone would want to alienate their audience all they had to say was that what they had done was intentional. End of story. If you are going to write (and I've learned this the hard way) and ask for opinions you will hear some that you don't like. You'd think that they'd rather have a friend point out that they just alienated a large portion of their audience than submit it to an editor and have them say so.

I was trying to help. Would you all like to hear my response to this email? Names have of course been removed to protect the rude, but here is my response. For obvious reasons I have paraphrased their comments, but here is my email in full.


"That (all of that) was not what I was saying at all. The point of any writing (in the public eye)as far as I'm concerned is to compel the reader to read. If you alienate your audience they'll just stop reading.

By pointing out how my writing is "not your cup of tea" you've just insulted me again. If you don't like what I do that's fine, but this wasn't personal and you made it that way. The entire tone of your email is self-important and rude, as is the entire tone of your blog.

Don't worry, I won't make any further comments. Seeing as how your purpose (as you stated) is to make the audience feel alienated on purpose you've accomplished your point. Bravo.

Tracey"

Oh, I left out the part about them calling women who shop at Lane Bryant fat. Rude, rude, rude.

Sorry for the rant, but I was really upset about this.

How do you write when you're broken?

How do you write when you’re broken? That’s the question I have been pondering lately. It seems that every time I start to climb up something knocks me back down. I’ve been down so much lately that I’m starting to get a crick in my neck from trying to look up.

I don’t share a lot of personal information because … well, I just don’t. Without getting into specific detail I will say that more plans have fallen through. Plans that I really needed to work, not just to further my career, but to survive. My family has suffered, my writing has suffered … I have suffered.

I have just lost my day job for the third time. Budget cuts and the economy is killing me, almost literally. Think you’ve got it bad? (I’m sure you do. I realize I’m not alone here. I’m just trying to make others realize that neither are they.) My trash can got repossessed this past year. That’s right. My freaking trash can. Now that’s broke.

Of course, there’s much more than that going on. Lots of bad things, unfortunately. I’m considering selling the knives in my back for extra cash. LOL But, in all seriousness, my writing has suffered. I’ve finished editing one book, written another that needs another go over and am working on yet another.

I’m trying to find the motivation to write about love when all I feel is hate and pain. Passion is passion I keep telling myself. Turn it into what you need it to be. It’s not just that I’m broke … I’m broken. I have reached my limit. How do you write out of that? How do you take all of that pain and make it something more? I’ve done it before. So why is this time any different? I guess because I’m getting older and I’m sick to death of having to start over again. I’m sick of not being able to trust anyone of not being able to make any plans or count on anything at all.

I’m sick and I’m tired. Period. And even though I want to quit … quitting is not in me. It is not. As long as I can move I will not break completely. I have been broken before. I have the scars to prove it. Dare I ask: What next? I’m still standing. I’m still writing. If it takes a bottle of wine and lots of Barry White I will write that damn love scene. Somehow I will find a way to take this passion and make something good of it. Otherwise I will explode.

I’m writing this to let other people who are hurting know that you are not alone. I know I’m not the only one the economy has affected badly. All I’ve got to do is watch the news to understand that. Some people think that being a writer is glamorous. Well, it isn’t. I love it, but I still need another source of income to pay my bills. Not to mention advertising. People can’t buy what they don’t know about. Guess who hasn’t been able to afford an ad in almost a year? That would be me.

Trying to find the time to look for a job/keep one plus promote myself and look after a family is taking its toll. But as long as I have wax the candle will continue to burn on both ends. There is no other way.

I am a writer. I do it because I must. Storytelling is my first love. I will write until I collapse. I am a woman and I am strong. For those who have helped to knock me down, I will not stay this way.

If I ever cease to get up check my pulse.

Wicked City has received an award!

I just found out that Wicked City has received the CTRR Award. (Coffee Time Reviewers Recommend)


http://coffeetimeromance.com/CoffeeThoughts/wicked-city-by-tracey-h-kitts


I am thrilled and honored to know that my words were enjoyed so much.

The Night Shift

That's the name of my work in progress. This is the book I had to put down in order to finish my latest that wouldn't stop waking me up at night. But, I like to finish what I start. Especially when it involves hot naked Djinn and sexy mercenaries. LOL

Here's a clip of the prologue. BTW, it's a futuristic/paranormal. I like to mix genres because that's what I like to read. I read recently (in a review of another of my books) that someone didn't know which category to put it in. Why do you have to? (I realize that if you work in a bookstore or a library you have to have a category. This is something different. I'm not retarded. lol) They said they enjoyed the book. Just enjoy it. It's a romance ... what more do you need to know?

I throw in a little bit of everything because I like a little bit of everything. If I didn't enjoy it, I wouldn't spend so much time working on it. Of course, this reviewer was the only person to ever say that ... just irked me a little. If you like something why do you have to put it in a box? What if it doesn't fit into the box? LOL Okay, now I'm just sounding like a pervert.

Once again ... here's the clip. Enjoy:)


Cigar smoke curled around his mouth as he looked down the bar at me and smiled. Everything is a game to Morgan and normally I would not have played. Maybe it was because we had just helped to liberate an entire race of people. Or maybe I was just still excited from the recent battle. Whatever the reason, I returned his wicked smile. He tipped his glass in response.


Even though it hasn’t been necessary for my heart to beat in a very long time, the look he gave me made it jump into overdrive. I rose slowly from my seat, taking the glass of warm blood with me. My vinyl bodysuit creaked as I moved toward him.


“Thank you, Jester,” one Ti’al woman said as she passed. Her hand trailed playfully across the back of his shoulders. I didn’t like it. She glanced at me and her dark blue lips curled into a challenging smile. Bitch.


Even alien women liked him. Sure, Morgan was attractive enough. But I never understood why someone would be willing to put up with his attitude. Having lived and worked along side him for the past ten years, I felt I knew better than anyone what a jerk he was. Even though I knew this, I took a seat beside him.


He wore a black mask which covered just his eyes. It matched the leather body armor that covered him from head to toe. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, adding to his rakish appeal. As I observed him I took another sip of the warm Ti’al blood and let it soothe me.


“Another round, Jester?”


Jester, that’s his mercenary name. His real name is Morgan Jefferies. But only myself and a handful of other people know that. Morgan’s bizarre sense of humor earned him the moniker long before we ever teamed up.


“I’m fine.”


The big blue bartender turned in my direction. When he nodded his head his short horns glinted in the light.


“How about you, Crimson?”


“I’m fine too.”


I’m known as The Crimson Kiss and I am part of an endangered species, vampires. My real name is Vivian Hart. But like my comrades, I chose to conceal my true identity, just in case I wanted to ever live a normal life someday. I mean, no one can be an intergalactic mercenary forever.