A clear case of: Oh my god, that´s scary....

.... can I please hear it again?

Eurovision song contest. Serbia´s entry.


Not sure if it´s good, or I´m plain strange

Sale!

Just a quick info.

Lyrical Press has an aniversary sale til the end of may.

So, Diamond Wolf can be had for 25 % off 

Here

Mortal enemies, immortal souls and an impossible love.

Werewolf Kieran McManus is living the high life until his play-boy ways get him captured by Sir Edward Lawrence, the most sadistic and cruel of all vampires. Kieran is tortured to the brink of death and insanity, saved only by his ability to leave his body. 

Unable to break him, Sir Edward calls in another weapon. The new male vamp is as beautiful as he is cold. With his dubious gifts, he could break the captive with ease if he chose. When he doesn't, Kieran and his unlikely savior must battle their own worlds and themselves to survive.

Warning, hot man love, dubious consent, violence 

__________________________________________________________

And just for the fun of it, an excerpt. I love this part. Someone told me once, it´s pure magic. And basically, me being the one who wrote it and knowing the state of my mind, when I wrote it... yes, it absolutely is.

It was night.

I soon found out, when the fucking Brit came in. I, in shackles in the middle of the room, tried not to feel my wrists burn.

And with him was someone else. Someone different.

The man was odd, off, and simply different and fucking-as-hell beautiful.

Six-foot-two or -three, but not as heavily muscled as I am. His skin was marble perfect, a touch of gold, with pale lips and white-gold eyes, platinum eyes. Yes, fucking platinum-colored, like finest Glenlivet whiskey. His hair was so pale, I thought it was gray, but as he stepped into the light it turned out to be such a pale shade of blond that it was almost silver. It hung down to his arse, flowing like silk in some non-existent breeze.

Can you hear the angels singing?

By the way, I’m South-American-highway straight, just for the record. I don’t do guys, because they do nothing for me. And this guy was cold as a diamond.

Not as ice, no; no shards of ice could ever achieve the sharp perfection of his face, the finely cut angles of those cheekbones, the exotic tilt of his eyes, or the sharp borders of his lips that were so perfectly pulled into a sardonic smirk.

Nothing. Ever. Could.

Only diamonds were so cruelly perfect, as rock-steady, uncaringly beautiful as he was.

Up until then, everything Edward had done had happened above the waist. Which, I’ll be honest, was a surprise, given his reputation for pretty men and a firm young arse.

Time was, obviously, up. Diamond shrugged out of his velvet tunic the moment he stepped into the room, and revealed a body as perfect as his face. Slender, sleek, sexy, silken. He had those well-toned muscles, not heavy, just Greek-godlike. And pierced nipples. Platinum hoops, go figure.

I was in a panic, but then I calmed myself. Whatever they did, I could leave, and I would leave, never to come back. There was always a last retreat, one that was so deep within they couldn’t block it.

After I don’t know how many days, this guy taking off his shirt in front of me did it.

I was ready to die.

I looked into his eyes and, shit, this is one of those things you can’t describe to anybody who’s never stood on a mountain top in the Highlands. The wild parts, without the roads or cabins the humans seem to build with alarming frequency. No, the pure, untouched Highlands, where the wind sings to you, caressing your face, like a beloved long-lost brother, who is gentle and caring and, at the same time, sharp, cutting under your skin the way only someone so close to your heart can.

You can’t understand what his eyes were like if you’ve never crouched next to a mountain rivulet, almost dying of thirst and watched the crystal clear beauty run over your hands, knowing the first sip will make your head explode with pain and, at the same time, resurrect you with its innate essence.

Research - How normal can an author be

Researching the psychological basics of torture right now. Why? Well, one day I might need it.
Doesn´t that sound really sick?

Got there by "subject-hopping". Starting one place and ending up somewhere else.
Started with longterm effects of trauma, especially PTSD (not that I would really need to research THAT. Believe me, I know more about PTSD than I ever wanted to know, but I wanted the "official", psychological side again), yeah and ended up right there.

Being an acheologist you automatically learn and understand a lot about culture and socio-psychological inter-relations, about "us" and "them" and in the end effectively the dehumanization of others - at least you should-, but there are things, that even old, cynical me will perhaps never be able to grasp on more than an intelectual level.
I understand the why and how, that doesn´t stop me on the emotional level to just want to twist a few necks here and there and remind myself over and over again, that sometimes the most important word in your vocabulary is "NO!"

http://www.light-the-dark.org/

(German only, sorry)

All others can go here: http://www.amnesty.org/

Life and work and writing

I started with the sequel to Diamond Wolf yesterday and wanted to spend today, which promised to become a very quiet work day, adding a few words here and there to the 3000 I´ve written so far.
Or do a nice little Blog post about Diamond Wolf... or read up on the Romance world in general.

Instead I´m going to spend my day calling aprox. 60 people and do some marketing follow-up.

Meh!

So, if I´m not totally dead, by the time, I get home, more on DW later :)

Diamond Wolf

Diamond Wolf, my baby. We have such a rollercoaster history....

It all started, when a friend of mine pointed out, Dark Eden Press was holding a contest to find new author.
I had been doing some cover art for them for a while already and only needed this little push to finally get my courage and actually submit something.

And so I did.
Diamond Wolf, or at least it´s raw draft, was written in some tiny cocktail bar in Hoyerswerda.
10k words in little more than 5 hours.
I love that meditative state, when the words are just flowing and you just KNOW they´re good....
Or at least you think, they are.

12500 words was the max, I stopped at 12347.

And then the wait started. First I believed in it... then I didn´t.. then I read it and was convinced again.

Funny sidenote: I started writing Romance, after buying a book from a pretty big publisher and it was so bad in story and language, I just thought "I can do better at 3am after two bottles of vodka" (Kids, don´t try this, I can keep up with polish construction workers, when it comes to drinking vodka)

And finally the results where in... I made second, which meant a nice little price and a contract.
Yay, me!

I put in the row for publishing, and that´s when the problems started.
Debra, whom I still admire very much, owner of Dark Eden Press had a recurrence of cancer and we all were destroyed, absolutely destroyed.

And there went the contract, understandibly, she folded Dark Eden Press to concentrate on her health.

But then Renee Rocco stepped in, with her project, A publisher that was opening in the summer of 2008.
And I had a new contract.I admit, I wasn´t convinced, brandnew publisher and all.
This might have been my first book to be published, but I had been around the business for a while already.
Yet, Debra trusted her, with her contracted authors, so... I gave it a try.

And never had any second thoughts. Renee and Frank pulled off the business with such professionalism and simple friendliness and great work ethic that I have felt welcome and at home ever since.

And as soon as the contract was signed, I got a friendly email from a very nice lady, telling me "I am your editor, lets get to work"
And man, did she make me work!

You see, I am German. I have never lived in any English speaking country, except for a combined 5 weeks of visiting the US, what I know about English I learned in school and while studying English Literature as minor subject (which basically boils down to "I hate ditransitive verbs") and from reading, reading, reading and writing.

How good my English truly is, depends on a) how many books have I read in that particular week/month and b) my daily form

The problem wasn´t gramatical errors... those I had beta-read out of it already, but a certain tune of the German language, that is quite unique and (at least, I´ve been told) makes my writing unique.
In German you can drag a sentence over several pages... with sub-sentences, side-sentences, semicolons and what not.

If you managed to get that far in this post, you´ll understand.
Even my German teacher in 12th grade chided me for giving her headaches.

So, I spent my time, picking apart sentences.

Oh, and did you know, that Open Office doesn´t show MS Word comments?
I found out, after my editor asked me, why I never reacted on the comments, only on the underlines.
That´s how I got to own MS Office, btw.

But I loved it.

And on the day, Diamond Wolf was finally published... I can´t describe those feelings.
I had just started job training one month prior and was still on probation with the company and I mustn´t mustn´t MUStN´T check onto my publishers website from work.
The disadvantages of IT...  the company is swarming with people, knowing how to check your online history.
Meh!

And then, the first royalties.. and wonders and more wonders... someone was buying it.
Even some of those people I recommended it to ;)
And some even told me, they liked it.
Especially some reviewers. Google Alert is your friend.
Oh my gosh, I´m so vain ;)

There are still people buying the book, even though I had to stop writing for a while, due to RL and a broken elbow, and the "publicity" as little as it was, vanished into the nothingness of the internet.

Lately a good friend asked me, if I couldn´t write a fling with the boys, clear up some of the things, that remained unsolved in Diamond Wolf and yes.,.. the words are flowing again.

Actually they should be flowing into my final project for my job exam, but heck... if the question is: to write about to hot guys or VoIP telephone systems... what would Angela do?
Alright, Angela Merkel would sit and wait it out.
But I think I might just be a little more driven... and not towards VoIP.

I have NO idea!

A picture my mother in law took today.
Regensburg harbor.
Heck if I knew what that telephone booth is doing there.

Ideas?

OCD much?

http://www.brainphysics.com/nail-biting.php

I tend to believe I´m a mentally healthy person... that was, until my primary care physician pointed out to me, chewing on your nails and fingers until you bleed is most likely an OCD related disorder.

Wait, did he say OCD?! What the heck.

So, I have this uncontrollable urge to nibble, chew and pick on the skin of my fingernails, granted, it bleeds now and then, and usually my fingernails and the surrounding skin look more like the battlefield of Verdun... after the battle, but hell.... OCD sounds serious, behavioural therapy and all.

I´ve been doing this since I was a child and YES I understand, after some soul searching, where the OCD part comes from. It´s soothing. It´s centering. It helps concentration. And no, I can´t stand having even the tiniest bit of skin not in order on my fingers.

So, OCD, here we go.

But before I go down the road with psychotherapy and what not, I´ll try the self help approach, which brings me to this post.
A good friend lately dragged me into a nail studio. Me...

And, for totally impressive 5 weeks now, I am the proud owner of fake fingernails. (and still trying to learn to type with those)
And the first thing I noticed, was how freaking hard it is to pick on the skin around your nails with those... claws!
Impossible.
And since it was so conveniently impossible, I decided to try and break the habbit.

5 weeks later. I still pick, at least I try.
I´m a little stressed out, because I can´t calm myself with pulling the skin of my fingers and the absolutely rewarding feeling of nail biting is out too. Damn!

On the plus side... I suddenly am the owner of ten not bleeding, not open, not reddened, infected or hurting fingers.

I like how they look, but honestly, right now I´m dying to dig my teeth into the skin and rip it off until I can taste blood.

Isn´t some soul searching just a beautiful thing?

What can I say... OCD much?

I´ll keep you updated

And now I´m going to file my fingernails.
How´s that for compensation ;)

Fußball

Fußball, Soccer, Football... whatever you call. The perfect mix between ballet and war, as my granfather used to call it.
I remember standing next to the sideline with him in some tiny town watching our equally tiny town´s team loose in the rain. But nobody tried to get shelter, because getting to a dry place meant to miss the game. They just cheered, cursed and yelled them on.
I knew what offside is, befor I could really read.
Ah, the beauty of childhood memories.
Back then all I wanted was to play, but it was still a man´s world back then.
I few years later though, my grandfather complained, that his team members reached the age gape between child and youth and he was about to loose his two best players... the girls in the team.
I still relish that thought.

Tonight is different though, no small town teams, no youth teams, tonight Germany is red. As in Bavarian Red.

FC Bavaria Munich vs. Inter Milan. Champions League.
All of Germany is glued in front of their TVs tonight, wanting to see if Munich can do the hattrick.
German Masters. Check
The German Football association´s Prize. Check
And now Champions League Final.

There are times, when living in Bavaria is fun. Not exactly safe, but fun as hell.
I don´t think I´ll leave the house tonight.
But I think I´ll go downstairs right now, join the people in the pub I live above and have a good glas of wheat beer. All the while I´ll watch the Bavarians get their asses kicked.
Honestly? I´m Thuringian and aside from the Franks (namely Nuremberg) losing a game, for I still carry a grudge, because they killed our king back in 534, there nothing as funny as seeing the team with the most money in Germany losing.

I´m such a bitch ;)
And should they indeed win... well, there are worse reasons for party, aren´t there?

An introduction instead of a praise of myself

Now I did it... created a blog.

Took me only 15 or so years.

But then, I´m a social networking idiot. Never really understood what good it should be to hang around on Facebook or Myspace, when I can have all the important people in my messengers.

Some of you may know me, others don´t.
Then it came to my mind, instead of sending out 20 ICQ/Skype/Yahoo messages... I could just blog it.
I´m such a genius!

My name is Kat (which is a pseudonym, but close enough to my real name, to count ;)) nicknamed Fluff.

I´m 30 years old, German, sub, more or less bi-sexual and I write.
As in books, shortstories and alot of other things, that will never get published. I´ve been told I´m quite good, though the last published story was in 2008.
Had to take a break due to two years of job training, which I´m about to finish in a month. And, how convenient, my muse is rearing his head again and people who don´t exist, until I bring them to life and reality are stalking to talk to me again.

Thank Heavens! I´m back.

Some more or less interesting side information: I like philosophy about pain. Which is only half as sick as it sounds, I got two nasty little roommates in my body, one is called Ehlers-Danlos-Syndrom, the other Rheumathoid Arthritis. Both hurt.
But pain is an interesting little thing, there are so many forms, so many ....
alright, I´ll keep that though for later.

I write Romance, gay, straight, menage and everything in between. And I like it bloody, painfully emotional, with a hint of brutal. And of course a good amount of sweet.

My characters tend to bleed, cry, break down and now and then, just face the odds and barrel through.
At least in the first version, after it hit the beta readers and editors, quite a bit of all those beautifully terrible things I do to my people tends to be softened. Which, in my opinion is a shame, but then... I´m a freak.

But THAT, being a freak and trying to fit into normal society is an entirely different story.

Have a nice day