Wednesday, January 26, 2011

ROW Check-In for Jan26

Well, I'm pleased to say I got some writing done on Monday, but my SAD depression kicked in and I wrote nothing yesterday.
The characters for "Don't Need A Hero" are talking to me at long last, and I'm pleased to say they're ready to do the wild thing by the end of the chapter. Problem is, that's somewhere around Chapter Five. (wince) I may have to cut out certain scenes I'd prefer to keep in the story.

Lena Austin

Monday, January 24, 2011

Steampunk Week with Selena Illyria

You know Madge Majesty and I just can't resist a good party, so we've flown over to Selena Illyria's website for a week long bash! See you there!

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Fw: [New post] 1-23 Check-In

Woohoo!! Success at last! I'll finish up "Level Up" today. It made it over the 8K mark easily to full novella as opposed to Hot Flash. I'm proud!
Now to tackle the next challenge-- rewriting for the third time the long-awaited "Don't Need a Hero." I have to admit, I'm sick of this one enough to just wrap a sex scene or two with the characters and toss it. I know, I shouldn't have such a bad attitude, but after three rewrites, I'm utterly sick of this story.

Lena Austin

----- Forwarded Message ----
From: A Round of Words in 80 Days <>
Sent: Sun, January 23, 2011 2:28:24 AM
Subject: [New post] 1-23 Check-In

  1-23 Check-In
Kait Nolan | January 23, 2011 at 1:15 am | Tags: Check-in, Round 1, ROW80 |
Categories: Check-Ins | URL:  

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"Freeze" Identity Thieves in their Tracks

"Freeze" Identity Thieves in their Tracks

I was impressed with this article. How simple can it be to stop identity theft? I'm telling everyone I know to do this. It's worth $10 for a quick one-time un-freeze if I need to use my own good name, if the point is to protect that good name.


Friday, January 21, 2011

21Jan2011-- And Hope is Dashed Once More...

Thursday January 20, 2011


Today I had an orientation scheduled with Remedy Staffing, the same place that found Randy's last job at Harbinger Lighting. It wrenched my heart to see Harbinger listed on their wipe-off board as needing a new employee. I'd been expecting something like that, so hopefully I hid my emotions well enough. After all, this was supposed to be just a "get to know the company, fill out the paperwork, etc" sort of day where I was just a name on a stack of paperwork.


Yes, they knew who I was. That fact was immediately clear. While they were polite enough not to point, it was obvious they were flummoxed I actually showed up ready to get a job.


They treated me normally during the orientation, which pleased me very much. I was impressed with the professionalism they showed. The paperwork, DVD on safety, and the test that followed was –as to be expected—tedious. However, it's part of the process and I was glad to simply be a face in the crowd.


When it was my turn to speak with the Remedy agent, I was again pleased to speak to the same young lady that Randy had spoken so highly of. When Miss T (pseudonym for her own protection) heard I was willing to do data entry, loan processing, and call centers, she whisked me off for a data entry test, which I aced in under 5 minutes. However, I knew I was a tag-end addition. Sure, my heart rose in hope. I was permitted to watch the video, take another test, and go to the drug test. As far as I know, I passed all the criteria.


Apparently, it wasn't enough. I was still a tagalong, stuck on at the end. I got a phone call this afternoon, saying that the company has decided to delay the project by several days or several weeks. The length of delay is unknown.


I hate to say it this way, but I've played temp worker before. I've been lied to with the best of intentions before, and I don't blame the agents trying to find the unwashed and unemployed masses a job. They'd probably slit their own wrists if they had to deal with all the desperate emotions or know their potential employees as more than names on resumes. I've got a soft heart under this leather-clad exterior.


Do I want to believe there's merely a delay, and I'll be employed soon? Yes, because I'm just as desperate as all the other people losing their homes, getting their electricity cut off, and wondering how they're going to live.


I'm more worried for Dante than myself. I can go live with my mother, but he's too young to live in the retirement community. Technically, I am too, but I can officially claim I'm there to take care of my 70-year-old mother. I can squeak by because I'm family, but they won't bend the rules for the daughter AND her much-younger roommate. That won't fly, even if we all shoehorned into Mom's tiny guestroom.


All I can do is keep trying. I'll keep fighting until the day they cut off my electricity and toss my butt on the street. What else can I do?


Nominee for 2010 Best Series-- Protect and Serve: FLASH POINT by Lena Austin (GLBT, shifters, humor, men in uniform, paranormal)

Blurb for Flash Point:

  After fireman Dustin Hardesty saves a scruffy tomcat from a fire and then a neutering at the shelter, he has no idea he just moved a cat shifter named Tigs into his life. Tigs figures he owes Dustin, so he'll hang around to give Dustin some good times. He just never figured on Dustin not wanting to let go of his alley cat.


Buy link:

Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire

Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Gay and Lesbian

Length: Novella


 What was I thinking? I had no clue. My first day back at work after my bereavement leave, and I brought home a scruffy, loudmouthed stray tomcat with massive attitude. Guess I needed more therapy than I thought.

 I hauled that heavy carrier up the two flights of stairs to my apartment and set the damn thing down on the floor. My muscles ached even more than my heart at the emptiness of my home, for once. Casey's family had cleaned out everything of value except what had clearly been mine, like my clothes. I'd been so depressed, I hadn't even fought for one stick of the antiques Casey and I had collected over the years. So, I had a fresh start to being a widower at the tender age of 35. I'd raided a thrift store for a few pots and some furniture, but I was still sleeping on a mattress on the floor, at least for now. You'd never know the charm the old furnishings had given it. Now it echoed like a mauso… I stopped that thought and slashed the zip tie with my knife.

 I expected the cat to shoot out of the carrier like a rocket and hide somewhere. Instead, the cocky bastard sauntered out calmly and proceeded to give each and every room an inspection. The place obviously didn't impress him much, and I didn't blame him. He sniffed the ratty recliner I'd liberated from a dumpster downstairs with distaste and gave me a look I interpreted as surprise, as if he'd expected better of me.

 I followed him around, and maybe it was loneliness that made me explain myself to His Majesty. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't smell great, does it? Guess the former owner smoked. It's temporary until I start getting money in the bank again. I haven't felt much like working or shopping for new stuff."

 He seemed to accept my explanation and inspected the TV. That seemed to impress him. I didn't know what he made of the small altar with Casey's picture and a candle on the entertainment stand, but I'd swear he looked at me to ask.

 So, I was compelled to answer. I have to admit, it felt kind of good to talk about all this. I was too humiliated to bring it up at work, knowing the guys would immediately have a fill-the-boot charity drive to get me new stuff, or go to my father's executor, who knew Dad had no love for his gay son. "Stupid as it sounds, it's a tribute to my dead husband. He'd always wanted a big home theatre, but we kept putting it off." I got kind of choked up at that point.

 Damned if the cat didn't choose that precise moment to bound over and rub his head all over my boots. Either he was one darn smart cat, or I was anthropomorphizing typical cat behavior. No matter what, I felt comforted.

 I realized I'd not even stripped off my gear. No wonder I was hot and tired. "Hang on, buddy. Let me get out of this stuff so I can prove I know how to dress like a regular guy, okay?" I shucked out of the suit, hat, belt, boots, and other crap faster than a probie at graduation, ready to party. I piled all my gear by the door and promised myself I'd take it back down to the car later. No one at the station expected me to have a brain yet. "Officially, I'm still on leave. I was at that particular fire only because I drove by on my way home from class. "

 The cat actually put his head to one side, just like a puzzled dog. I started imagining the bubble thing over his head with a caption, like a cartoon, like he'd just asked, "Class?"

 "Yeah, I'm thinking of changing careers. Firefighting's for the young with a lot to live for. Me, I don't have any spark left. Casey always said I was good at real estate." I caught my breath. I'd gotten his name out without choking up. Maybe I was healing, after all. "I already own a few investment properties from my parents' estate.  So, getting a license to buy and sell real estate sounded good. I'll take the test in a few weeks."

 Guess that satisfied him, because he started wandering around again. My home office definitely got his attention, especially the paint chips and wallpaper samples I'd put up on a wallboard. He studied them intently, gave me a loud meow and put his paw on the silvery blue that had been my favorite anyway.

 I laughed. "I agree, that's my choice for this room too. Casey liked a dark, gloomy English office, but I'm more into Scan Design." I might have said more, but the room swayed. "Damn, I forgot to eat. I'm hypoglycemic and…" Let's just say I never felt the floor hit me in the face.

 I awakened to the taste of honey in my mouth, and the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen kneeling over me. Moreover, he was naked as a jaybird, which caused me to blink. Naturally, the most intelligent thing I could think of to say was incoherent, at best.

 He had huge, luminescent gold-green eyes and the dark café-au-lait skin that indicated mixed ancestry. Some incoherent part of me acknowledged that the mixed race folks always were spectacular in looks. "Open your mouth, Dustin. Have some more honey from ol' Tigs, man." He pushed a spoonful of the sticky stuff against my lips.

 I swallowed the honey and let it slide down my throat. The question burning my mind popped out. "Why do I have a naked man feeding me honey?"

 Tigs grinned. "Oh, good. You're back. Don't scare me like that, man. To answer your question, I didn't take the time to borrow some of your clothes. Mine got inconveniently burned up." He dipped the spoon back in the jar of honey I normally reserved for self-indulgent breakfasts. "Freaking cold in here. You mind if I borrow some clothes?"

 "I'd rather you stayed naked. You're too gorgeous to cover up." Maybe my brain wasn't really rewired to my mouth yet. I shouldn't have said it, but I did.

 He snorted softly and dropped the spoon in the jar with a rattle. "Yeah, yeah. That's what they all say. Back atcha, Grass Eyes. Thanks for the compliment. Upsy daisy."

 Tigs was monstrously strong, apparently. He lifted me up from the floor with almost no effort and carried me to my mattress. I have to admit I was ashamed to have such a handsome man anywhere near my less than posh apartment.

 Tigs tucked me into my bed like a baby. "Listen, you take a nap or whatever to recover for a few. I'll scrounge up something to keep warm and make a pot of coffee. Mind if I make a phone call?" He held up a conciliatory hand, and I noted calluses and healing cuts.  Working man's hands. "Local, of course."

 Sleep was creeping up on me. I'd had insomnia, mostly from not wanting to sleep alone ever since Casey's funeral. Now I was going to pay for all that lost time at once, and at the worst possible moment. I mumbled, "Don't leave me alone."

 "Not planning on it." Tigs kissed me softly. "Curiosity killed the cat, man. I got questions for you."

 "Same goes." I was out like a light.

Slade Wolf
Promotion Manager
Phoenix Rising Promotions
prp_wolf@yahoo. com

Nominee for 2010 Best Publisher: Changeling Press Announces The Shamrock Challenge!

Are you up to the challenge?

Introducing the Shamrock Challenge!

Hot, Handsome Hunks Wanted!

We're looking for new authors to add to our cast of characters who cause mayhem and amoking wherever they go! Do you have what it takes to write short, hot novellas 10K-28K (or can serialize your longer works)? Can you write a story in any one or more of our thirteen genres and fifteen themes? Are you unafraid to shamelessly promote your work?

Want to win a contest and join our award-winning lineup of authors like Angela Knight, Kate Douglas, Michele Bardsley and Dakota Cassidy?


Then check out our submissions page and start pounding keyboard!

We're holding a contest starting February 14, and you have until March 17 to hammer out and polish your best effort. (Yeah, that's about 1K-plus a day, so get cracking.) Grand Prize Winners will get a contract and free promotions, not to mention some serious fanfare and applause for their bravery for submitting to The Troll. (Okay, that's an inside joke. Bear with us. We have fun, here.)

For all the details you need, click HERE

That's if you need to cut and paste.

Celebrity Judges: Kate Douglas, Dakota Cassidy, Michele Bardsley and Angela Knight

Prizes: Grand Prize-- publication with Changeling Press and a year of free marketing with TRS

Note: All rights to the works remain with their authors until accepted for publication by Changeling Press. However, we do ask that you do not do simultaneous submissions for the month of the contest. Give us a fair crack at it, okay?

**Permission to Forward Granted and Encouraged**


Check the Changeling Press website for submission guidelines first.

After that, email Service @ Changeling Press. com (No spaces)

Share the banner!

Lena Austin

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

ROW in 80 Days-- Hitting My Stride

I don't know about anyone else, but I'm hitting my stride on meeting or exceeding my daily goal. I originally started with a mere 500 words a day, but I'm easily doubling or tripling that on weekdays. Weekends, I don't even try. I have too much going on to have the peace and solitude I need to write.
I'm definitely using Morgan Hawke's techniques for stripping plots, and that's a huge assist in keeping me and my wayward Muse on track. (Cleo has a tendency to wander unless firmly reined in. I don't know how I developed such a problem child Muse.) In fact, I've done so well that once I wrap up the current sex scene and tie up the loose ends of the plot, I'll have to return to the story I've neglected twice now-- Don't Need A Hero. I really wish I could make this one a m/m, but since "Pete" has already been established as a very female Himalayan cat shifter, I'm forced to go with the less lucrative format. (Dammit.)
I need to get as much done as possible. Thursday I have an orientation at the staffing agency to clear one of the last hurdles before they can assign me to a job. That will break up my day badly, especially since I promised to go to an SCA (Society for Creative Anachronisms) meeting Thursday night. Oh, dear...what have I done?
So, how are you doing on your goals?

Lena Austin

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Flashpoint by Lena Austin (adult)(shifter) (really hot!)

  OMG!! OMG!! (Lena tries to do the muppet flail, looks goofy, skids and falls on her ass) Love Romances Cafe just nominated the Protect and Serve series for the Best of Series 2010!! Woohooo!!!

Protect and Serve: Flash Point by Lena  Austin
Read an excerpt

Protect and Serve: Flash Point

by Lena Austin

Cover art: Sahara Kelly

ISBN: 978-1-60521-395-8
Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Protect and Serve
Length: Novella
Buy This Book for $3.99
Choose a Download Format
Adobe Acrobat/PDF files PDF for PDA files
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Book Summary

When fireman Dustin Hardesty saves a scruffy tomcat from a fire, and then a neutering at the shelter, he has no idea he's just moved a cat shifter named Tigs into his life.

Tigs figures he owes Dustin, so he'll hang around to give Dustin some good times. He doesn't count on Dustin never wanting to let go of his alley cat.

Praise for Flash Point

"Hot Men, Hot sex and Shapeshifters... oh my. Ms Austin has a hot erotic short here guaranteed to steam up any mirror and bring the screen you're reading it on to a melting point."

-- Suki, Got Erotic Romance! Reviews

"Flash Point, a lovely romance with a solid punch of lust! Likeable, engaging characters are set in an entertaining love story readers are sure to enjoy."
-- Lisa, Joyfully Reviewed

"The amazing Lena Austin creates an incredible short story that is hilarious, as well as romantic, with sexy main characters and steamy love scenes."
5 Nymphs! -- Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs


This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

My name is Tigs, and I'm a cat shifter. Don't get smart, it's not short for Tigger or anything stupid like that. I don't fucking bounce or lisp my words, and I'm a gray tabby. I usually work construction and home renovation, me and my crew. We're all shifters of one type or another, but we get along most of the time.

I'd let the rest of my crew go home early while I coiled up extension cords, locked up the tools, and cleaned up our work site. The old deli used to be the coolest little place when I'd been a kitten, but that'd been years ago. The guys would be waiting for me back at the warehouse we rented for the equipment, six blocks away -- it also served as our home. The place was "guarded" by two dogs -- a rat terrier and a Rottweiler mix along with three scruffy cats and that didn't mean anything to the absentee landlord. Long as he got his cash, he didn't give a shit.

Speaking of shit, we may look scruffy, but we're good neighbors. We used the litter box or took a walk outside. The dogs "walk" each other, so that's cool, and they curb themselves like responsible citizens.

Anyway, I smelled the stink of burning wood and rubber first. Figured some homeless guy had lit up the contents of a trashcan to keep warm nearby and didn't give it another thought. This wasn't the best neighborhood, but most poor don't foul their own nest, ya know?

So, I finished coiling up the last extension cord and tossed it into the storage locker. Two seconds to snap the padlock, and I was ready for some of Pete's Tuna Steaks on the grill back at our place.

No such luck. The smoke from the fire was coming up the stairs when I opened the door, and I bent over coughing my lungs out before I could shut the damn thing. "Who the fuck set a real fire in this stinkin' joint? It can't be for the insurance." Didn't matter. The entire downstairs -- such as it was -- was engulfed, and the floor was heating up. Damn near burned me through my boots, which meant I had seconds to get my ass out.

I took the easy road and threw a piece of scrap two-by-four through one of the windows we hadn't removed yet. Single pane, painted shut, so it shattered easy as pie. Then I shifted, abandoned my clothes to their fate, and leaped for the limb of a scrub pine just in time. I hit the branches, yowling in pissed off feline at the loss of a perfectly good pair of steel toes.

Naturally, that was the moment the fire truck showed up. How convenient. I'd bet the arsonist called in the fire as soon as he got a safe distance away, after ensuring the place would be a pile of ash. So, a professional job. Not my problem, except some asshole owed me some new boots.

What surprised the fuck out of me was the ladder that slammed up against the tree. Tree wasn't that big, being an inner city volunteer from some bird's ass that happened on an empty lot. The whole thing shook.

I might have backed up a bit, but it wasn't fear. I just didn't want to get grabbed like some wuss who didn't have sense enough to know how to get down.

The human wearing the standard issue fireman's hard hat and a million pounds of gear climbed the ladder with casual ease until we were damn near face to whiskers.

"Well, hello bay-bee!" Okay, so it came out as a yowl loud enough to burst eardrums. Any other tom would have recognized my interest in the biggest pair of grass-green eyes in a tanned face I'd seen in a long time. Okay, so they were red-rimmed and tired. If I'd been human, my dick would have lifted my ass so far I'd have fallen out of the tree. I wanted me a piece of that man!

Once handsome Grass Eyes stopped wincing from my loud mouth, he hitched himself up one more rung. "Hey there, you could replace our siren with that set of lungs, dude." He checked the fire, now close enough to us that I was getting more than a tad warm, ya know? "I really hate to interrupt your serenade, but unless you want to burn down with this tree, we need to go." He reached for me.

On reflection, I realized Grass Eyes didn't have a clue that I was a shifter, nor did he mean to insult Da Tigs. At the time, all I cared about was swatting his hand. Encased in the gloves and shit, he wasn't even hurt, but I'd made my point. I could jump down anytime, if he'd move that fucking ladder.

Grass Eyes shook his head. "Man, I don't want to leave you, loudmouth. Come on! This tree's gonna go, shit head."

Yeah, he had a point. I ignored his hand and jumped on his shoulders. I'd be damned if I'd be carried down like some frou-frou case from Cat Fanciers magazine.

"Okay, if that's the way you want it." Grass Eyes had the sense to know when he'd been elected as the vehicle of my ride down and made his way back to the base of the tree. I kept on riding, even while he helped his buds put the ladder away. Clearly, the old deli was a total loss, so they concentrated on keeping the rest of the local trash-pit buildings from coming down. Not all that difficult, and I couldn't blame them for not working too hard at saving what wasn't worth the effort.

Grass Eyes stood over to the side, talking on his radio and leaning against the big-ass red fire truck. He'd scrub his face with his hand now and then.

One of his buddies came by, lugging shit back to the truck. "It was arson, Dustin. Betcha the dogs sniff out accelerant."

Dustin, which was Grass Eyes' real name I guessed, sighed. "Yeah. This place was being renovated too. I drive by here daily and see the workers. They've been putting their backs into cleaning this place out, and they're clean as a whistle about putting away equipment. I'll tell the inspector the same when I see him. I doubt it was them being careless."

Hey, a compliment. Very cool. I purred and rubbed up against Dustin's ear for that.

"Yeah, I like you too, loudmouth." He reached up and I let him give the backs of my ears a rub. I closed my eyes and purred louder, just to let him know he was doing a good job.



Monday, January 17, 2011

2011 Roadmap

1.       Drink plenty of water. 
2.       Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar. 
3.       Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.. 
4.       Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy 
5.       Make time to pray. 
6.       Play more games 
7.       Read more books than you did in 2010 . 
8..       Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day 
9.       Sleep for 7 hours. 
10.    Take a 10-30 minutes walk daily. And while you walk, smile. 
11.    Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about. 
12.    Don't have negative thoughts or things you cannot control.. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment. 
13.    Don't over do. Keep your limits.. 
14.    Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does. 
15.    Don't waste your precious energy on gossip. 
16.    Dream more while you are awake 
17.    Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.. 
18.    Forget issues of the past. Don't remind your partner with His/her mistakes of the past. That will ruin your present happiness.
19.    Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Don't hate others. 
20.    Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present. 
21.    No one is in charge of your happiness except you. 
22.    Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn.  Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime. 
23.    Smile and laugh more. 
24.    You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.... 

25.    Call your family often. 
26.    Each day give something good to others. 
27.    Forgive everyone for everything.. 
28.    Spend time w/ people over the age of 70 & under the age of  6. 
29.    Try to make at least three people smile each day. 
30.    What other people think of you is none of your business. 
31.    Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch. 
32.    Do the right thing! 
33.    Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful. 
34.    GOD heals everything. 
35.    However good or bad a situation is, it will change.. 
36.    No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up. 
37.    The best is yet to come.. 
38.    When you awake alive in the morning, thank GOD for it. 
39.    Your Inner most is always happy. So, be happy. 

Last but not the least: 
40.    Please Forward this to everyone you care about, I just did.      

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Digging in my Plot Bunny Hutch

Oh, dear. The one thing an author should never, ever do is go digging in the Plot Bunny Hutch before she's ready to write a story. Now I'm going nuts, wondering if I'll do "Bunnicula", "The Manny", or a host of others. Or, maybe I should finish "Protect and Serve: Don't Need A Hero." Oh, damn.

My prayer for 2011 is a thin body and a fat bank account. Please God, don't reverse them like you did in 2010.

Lena Austin


Round of Words Check-In for 1-16-11

I wasn't as productive as I'd like in writing something new, but I did the edits on my upcoming release. 19K of edited novella in one day ought to count for something. 
I'm close to having 6K on the new story, and if I have my way I'll have it done by the end of next week, definitely by the end of January. Guess I should go dig out a new plot bunny from the hutch. Out of 43 stored, I ought to find something.

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My prayer for 2011 is a thin body and a fat bank account. Please God, don't reverse them like you did in 2010.

Lena Austin


Saturday, January 15, 2011

What's on your Bucket List?

Dante and I were discussing our personal bucket lists. Just talking about what we'd love to do before we die made me want to write mine down.
1. Get a degree in something. I just want to be able to say I did it.
2. Go to Disney World and stay for a couple of days in their hotels.
3. Go on a Caribbean Cruise
4. See a Mardi Gras Parade and dance at a fais-do-do
5. Own and ride a motorcycle
6. See the Forrester Family castle outside Edinburgh.
Sure, this list will evolve and change as I do, but what's life without a few goals? So...what's on your bucket list?


My prayer for 2011 is a thin body and a fat bank account. Please God, don't reverse them like you did in 2010.

Lena Austin


Thursday, January 13, 2011

Conquering a Nightmare Fifteen Minutes at a Time

I'm crawling out from my mountain of paperwork for a moment. Wasn't my husband supposed to buried, not me? Well, I'm the buried one under the incredible mound. I may not be able to control the ever-expanding list of things a grieving spouse is supposed to do instead of being allowed to mourn in peace, but I can control how I handle it.


For me, this means tackling them 15 minutes at a time. If you're an adult with any backbone, you can handle the most onerous, disgusting task for 15 minutes. Even I can dial the phone and be patient for a mere 15 minutes. I can manage to box up my poor darling's belongings for charity for 15 minutes, even if it's the longest 15 minutes of my life. I can fill out a form for 15 minutes, then give myself permission to sob or do something pleasant for another 15. In this manner, I can accomplish a task in manageable bites, while still rewarding myself for doing the chores.


It's hard. I won't lie. However, like so many things in life, it's ignorance that leads to fear. Sometimes it's not such a bad task after all.


My prayer for 2011 is a thin body and a fat bank account. Please God, don't reverse them like you did in 2010.

Lena Austin


Wednesday, January 12, 2011

4-12-11 Check In on ROW

Wow, what a great start to the week. After a terrible first week in January, I'm back on track. Yesterday was a rest day. I darn near blew my hands up Sunday and Monday, and they're still sore today. However, the story is still running hot, and I just got the edits back for Affairs of Dragons. I'm going to be a busy gal today and tomorrow!

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Lena Austin


Monday, January 10, 2011

Round of Words Daily Word count-- 1400 plus

It's almost 4 PM, and I'm taking a break for a few hours. Still, I've managed over 1400 words today. If this story keeps running hot, I'll turn in an extra Hot Flash at minimum before the end of the month!

Lena Austin


Sunday, January 9, 2011

Round of Words in 80 Days-- Sunday 09Jan2010

It's been hard after the death of my husband on January 2, but for the first time since before the holidays, I was able to write. After over 1300 words, I'm well on my way to not only making a daily goal, but perhaps even revising the goal upwards. We shall see at my job hunt continues. Wish me luck!

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Lena Austin


Thursday, January 6, 2011

Excerpt: Unicorn Valley 1: Gryphon's Heart by Lena Austin

Unicorn Valley (Collection)
by Lena Austin
Cover art: Angela Knight 
ISBN: 978-1-59596-897-5 
Genre(s): Urban Fantasy, Collections 
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Vampires, Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Magic
and Mayhem, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures 

Length: Collection
After his foster brothers left, Lionel pondered what they said. He got up from
the chair, still in humanoid form, to pace as Brolly did. It helped to do
something, even if it served no useful purpose. "However lovely the Gryphoness
of the afternoon was, no matter how much I wanted to fly her, I have my honor.
However, honor makes a cold and lonely nest to sleep in. Logic demands I
approach Teema and apologize for insulting her. Our friendship earns that, at
least." He picked up a small crystal she made for him during their mage
training, merely to hold a small part of her.
"Friendship isn't what I want from Teema anymore. I want her also as a mate. The

question is, how to approach her? Could I be the aggressor? Well, yes, I can
manage that. How does one approach a Werebitch? Simply walk up and take? That
seems a bit harsh and overdone." If it weren't Teema herself he needed to
approach, he'd ask her for advice. "Blast it all, this needing a mate disrupts a

perfectly well-ordered and logical life. I'll go find Teema right now and settle

the issue like the good friends we are. Together, there might be a solution." He

put down the crystal in its place on a small table, where it caught the morning
He turned to go to the cliff edge where he'd transform and fly down, but Teema
stood there already. Instead of her usual gray tunic and trousers, she wore a
green gown cut so low in front his human mouth watered. Her brown hair was loose

instead of braided, and her eyes glittered in the afternoon light. "May I come
in?" she asked.* * *Teema waited at the cave entrance for admittance, unsure of
her reception. Lionel might still be angry at being turned into an ass, no
matter what Nin-Kaa said. The three females, Teema, Kella, and Nin-Kaa, had put
their collective heads together and planned a seduction, which Kella declared
"no fail." Flying up here was no difficulty, but transforming her normal -- and
much warmer -- clothing to this excuse for a dress made her hands shake with
fear as well as cold.
Lionel gaped at her like he'd lost what wits he'd possessed before he nodded. No

wonder. He was in humanoid form, and therefore much more susceptible to emotions

and, yes, lust.
Teema glanced down at the bulge in his trews before she swept by him to go to
the fire. The thought of what that bulge represented made her wet and threw her
into heat.
Lionel realized what his body showed because he cleared his throat and stammered

like a lack-wit, "I was just going outside to transform and…"
"Find me. Yes, I know," Teema grinned. She conjured a mage fire to produce a
little heat as well as light. She'd be damned if she'd get naked and frolic
while she shivered. "You were talking to yourself."
"I was?"
"Yes, you were. I'll be happy to tell you how to approach a Werebitch if you're
interested to know. I may even show you." Teema shot him her best seductive
"come hither" look over her shoulder. "There! The fire will warm up the cave
quick as a wink, if you'll seal the entrance. It's a bit chilly if you don't
have fur or feathers to keep you warm." To make sure, she sealed the entrance
herself with a light mage shield.
Lionel sat down on the divan he kept for Shadow to sit upon. It was closest, and

he made a vain attempt to cover his hard-on with his tunic. Belatedly, he
offered, "I'd be happy to change back to Gryphon and warm you with my wings if
you wish. You should've brought a cloak if you insist on being in human form."
Teema shrugged and sat down next to him on the divan. "I didn't think of it.
Don't you dare transform. I like you this way." She reached up to stroke the
hard biceps under his sleeve. "You make an extremely attractive human, you know,

with that tawny hair like a lion's mane and those big eyes like amber. You made
this form as big and strong as a human can be without over-doing it."
"I, uh, copied Shadow a bit." He held himself rigid, as if afraid to move.
"And wisely so. However, you made the chest broader to reflect your strength of
wing. Did you do it on purpose?" She stroked a pectoral muscle to emphasize this

was no clinical analysis, no matter what her words said.
"No, it just feels more natural. Teema, what're you doing? Human form is…" His
gaze fell on the floor.
"Always in season. Yes, I know. In fact, I'm depending upon it. I'm showing you
how to be the aggressor, of course." She reached down, took his right hand, and
put it to her breast before she squirmed close enough to nibble on his ear.
"You'll show me you can be passionate, won't you?" she whispered, alternating
licks and nibbles to his earlobe with her words.
His hand cupped her breast willingly. "I think I can manage that," he purred.
"But shouldn't we wear less clothing?"
"Mmmm… good point." Teema released his earlobe and started to wriggle away, but
Lionel's large hand closed on the neck of her gown and ripped it away with one
"Is that more aggressive?" he asked, with his amber eyes wide and innocent.
Teema looked down at her naked body in the shreds of her dress, and nodded. She
was thoroughly wet with need now, from that one gesture of dominance. "That's
more like it, Lionel. Can you manage more?" she begged.
"I think so," he laughed, and pinned Teema to the seat of the divan, throwing
her backwards until her head dangled over the edge. "I'm beginning to like
this," came a soft growl before he inched forward to lap gently at one pink
nipple. One hand released her to cup that breast and bring it up to become a
Teema heard her own growl of response. If she could've moved, she might have
spread fully beneath him, but she was effectively pinned except for the one free

hand that crept up and fisted in his hair.
Lionel paid no attention to her hand in his hair, but nibbled and nipped, and
reveled in her tiny gasps and pants. He lingered until the nipple was swollen
and hard as the rock walls of his cave before he bit his way to the other,
nipping gently at the underside of each where the white flesh was tender. "Now
here's meat to nibble upon, but never chew," he remarked to the new pink nipple
before giving it the same treatment as its twin.
"Oh, really? We've shared many a bone between us, Lionel, but I've got a bone in

mind that also needs nibbling upon," Teema panted. She used the thigh trapped
between his legs to caress the hardness she found there, making sure he
understood her meaning.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Excerpt: AWU-Bonds of Matrimony

All Wrapped Up 3: Bonds of Matrimony
Lena Austin
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Lena Austin
An Authorized Excerpt
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some
may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling
Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the
country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where
they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
>A tall male human wearing ancient livery from about eighteenth century Europe
>herded them all inside into a climate-controlled hall of gargantuan proportions.
>Alex would have killed for three minutes to study the art and architecture, but
>they were ushered directly into a room where another human male lounged on a
>Greco-Roman couch, spanking a naked female.
>The female, as pale-skinned as Alex, writhed but did not appear interested in
>escape. Indeed, her blonde hair obscured her face, but her hands fondled her
>exposed breasts in sexual pleasure with every stroke of the palmetto fan paddle
>on her pink buttocks. Her gasps and soft cries of pleasure were clearly audible.
>The male, dressed only in a pair of cream-colored loose pants, was a burly man
>of truly mixed heritage. His skin was a perfect dark tan, and his musculature
>spectacular. Like Alex, he wore his black hair on his shoulders, though his was
>tied with a simple thong at the back.
>Even Alex felt a moment of desire, and he normally was not interested in other
>males. His cock hardened, and Alex glanced around at their fellow guests,
>slightly embarrassed. He need not have worried. From the glazed looks, hardened
>nipples, tented trousers, and other evidence, the sight affected all of them.
>Apparently, he wasn't the only deviant among the guests. Even his wife panted
>and squeezed his hand with every stroke of the fan.
>Their shepherd stepped forward hastily, arresting the spanker's attention. "My
>deepest apologies, Master Augustine. They did not mean to interrupt your
>pleasures. Would you prefer to greet our guests later at dinner?"
>Rendol Augustine surveyed them all with perfect calm before turning his
>attention to their guide. "No, Delos. Let them stay and watch." He smiled
>impartially at them all and gave the lovely lady another spank. "They are all
>voyeurs to a certain extent. And --" One of his fingers dipped into his victim's
>sex and came up glistening before he licked it off. "-- some get off on being
>The blonde lifted her head to reveal perfect features and blue eyes so light as
>to be almost colorless. A rare genotype to be sure. She smiled at them all
>before putting her head back down, clearly implying she did enjoy being the
>center of the display.
>Master Augustine slapped one rosy buttock with his bare hand. "I caught Tira
>here playing in the dildo collection. Hardly a crime worth calling the
>authorities, wouldn't you say? But definitely in need of some form of
>punishment, so I chose to mete out justice on my own." He delivered another
>stinging blow to the other cheek. "Naughty girls mustn't play in the Master's
>toys without permission."
>Tira squirmed and panted out, "Yes, Master."
>Millicent leaned back against his chest, almost as if her legs would not hold
>her further. Her breaths were coming so hard and fast, Alex feared she'd faint.
>Almost automatically, his right hand fondled his wife's soft breast through her
>bikini top. Alex could claim perhaps that he reacted to the scene in front of
>him, but deep inside he knew he wanted to mimic every action that brought the
>blonde to orgasm.
>His fellow attendees seemed just as affected. Alex was not the only partner
>unabashedly fondling their mate, though he had to avert his eyes from the two
>females. Alex was a throwback enough to admit he enjoyed that display more than
>he cared to admit publicly.
>Millicent was not so inhibited. She seemed to frankly relish every act going on
>around them, though her eyes repeatedly strayed back to their host and his
>victim. Her nipples were harder than asteroids, and her breathing matched the
>blonde's panting cries for orgasm.

gt;In response to that unspoken plea, Alex rolled and pinched Millicent's nipples
>while his left hand crept inside her bikini pants to pinch her round bottom. The
>scent of female musk filled the room, fueling their passions. Alex no longer
>cared who saw them, and he doubted most sincerely if anyone else cared if the
>meet and greet with Rendol Augustine turned into an orgy.
>In fact, several of the guests removed clothing, stripping without anyone else
>batting an eyelash. Several couples hit the floor or bent one partner over the
>furnishings. The two male partners made use of a delicate footstool. Alex hoped
>the little gold and cream thing could stand the abuse. Panting and bedroom
>language filled the air.
>Millicent herself reached up and yanked on the string holding her bikini top
>around her rib cage, all the while writhing in time to every pinch he made to
>each buttock cheek. "Yes, Alex. More, please. More."
>Happy to oblige, Alex tugged at the string holding her bikini on her dark hips,
>and shoved it down until it fell to her ankles. He eyed the sofa and coffee
>table directly in front of them. The top of the sofa was softly plump, perfect
>for bending his long-legged wife over. After a short debate as to whether to put
>his wife on her back and eat her soft flesh until she screamed or put her over
>the sofa for a fuck and spank, Alex decided on the latter. After all, the
>spanking turned her on. So why not indulge her fantasy?
>Rendol Augustine's eyes seemed to glow for a moment when Alex threw his darkling
>wife over his cream colored sofa and imitated his every wallop on the blonde's
>now bright pink ass. He nodded, smiled, and slowed down to show him every choice
>of where to spank for maximum impact.
>The rest of his fellow guests indulged their own sexual preferences shamelessly.
>The slap of flesh, exhortations of, "Deeper, harder, faster," and the scent of
>sexual indulgences filled the room. The orgy was in full swing, with even Delos
>having been called upon to indulge one female's preference for two males at
>once. Their shepherd's cock slid down her throat while her partner stuffed her
>pussy with his equally hard cock. Alex hoped the furnishings in the room were
>sturdy enough, but he need not have concerned himself. Rendol Augustine owned
>the entire Class M planet. He probably gave the furniture not one second of
>The blonde in Rendol's lap now squirmed in earnest. "Master, please! I beg
>forgiveness. Please, please fuck me. I beg for your cock."
>Millicent squeaked with every smack on her beautiful ass, but those tiny squeaks
>brought back fond memories of their student days. Alex knew that sound was
>pleasure-based, a remnant of those days when they had to be quiet or risk
>discovery. Her hand reached backwards, fumbling for his cock to fondle.
>Alex kept his aching rod out of reach deliberately. This was all about her, for
>the moment. He wanted her to beg for release, just as the blonde on Rendol
>Augustine's lap did. His discomfort was unimportant. Besides, he was having fun.
>For once, Alex was in total control, and he luxuriated in the novelty.
>Millicent and the blonde Tira groaned simultaneously. The sound echoed around
>the room from many of the participants. The slap of flesh on flesh grew in
>frequency, matching the music that filtered through a hidden sound system.
>"Can-Can" was the name, if Alex remembered his ancient art studies. The musical
>beat was perfectly matched by the sexual beat.
>With his free hand, Alex checked Millicent's readiness for sex and found her hot
>and wet, so ready in fact that she squealed when he touched her. Pleased he'd
>produced a new reaction from her, Alex slid his fingertip from her vagina to her
>clit, using her own lubrication.
>Rendol snatched Tira from his lap and stood, his pants showing an impressive
>erection beneath the thin fabric. He put the red-cheeked blonde on the floor and
>permitted her to remove his trousers. "With your teeth."
>"Yes, Master." Tira obeyed, clasping her hands behind her back and using tongue
>and teeth to perform the service.
>"Please! Oh, please!" Millicent's throaty pleas had enough desperation to excite
>any man.
>Briefly, Alex debated putting her on her knees before him, but they often did
>that trying to get him erect. He wanted nothing of their past to spoil the
>moment. These circumstances required something different. Alex bit his lip and
>risked a stinging slap on his wife's rear. "Quiet. Be still."
>"Oh!" After one jerk, Millicent turned her head to let him see one amused brown
>eye. She put her head down until her braids obscured her face. Then, to his
>astonishment, she giggled.
>"Million Dollar" Millicent Devereaux had giggled. His jaw dropped, and Alex
>tried to wrap his mind around the concept that she seemed to enjoy what he'd
>done. Alex yanked his pants down, anxious to enjoy this new development.
>Rendol's lips twitched as he caught Alex's gaze. Then he winked and grabbed a
>handful of Tira's sunshine hair. "Assume the same position as our guests on the
>sofa, Tira. Both of you ladies will be fucked together."
>Tira obeyed with such speed, Alex thought she'd vault over the back of the sofa.
>As soon as her blonde hair tumbled to grace the creamy cushions, she grabbed
>Millicent's hand and squeezed.
>Millicent, normally not demonstrative of emotions, squeezed back and exchanged a
>grin with her couch companion.
>Rendol kicked off his pants and sauntered over to join them, his eyes surveying
>the other guests with cool assessment. When he'd positioned himself behind his
>lovely victim, he grinned in a comradely fashion at him. "Shall we?"
>Alex entered into the spirit of the orgy. "Yes, let's. The ladies have earned a
>little reward, haven't they?"
>Two giggles erupted from their sun and shadow darlings. Both wriggled in
>anticipation, their sexes pinkly gleaming and ready.
>Their host virtually purred. "If they haven't, they will." He looked down at
>Millicent. "Won't they?"
>Unbelievably, Alex heard Millicent reply in a soft, feminine voice. "Yes, Master
>Augustine. Yes, Master Alex."
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Tuesday, January 4, 2011

PG13 Excerpt 1: Blue Rose by Lena Austin (Paranormal, Erotica, GLBT, Menage)

One of my rare full-length stories...
Blue Rose

Author: Lena Austin
Artist: Renee George
Buy Link:

Ever read Dante's Inferno? The old boy must have a new nickname—Pinwheel—for all the turning over in his grave he's doing.  


This time the tourists in Hell are a poisoned warrior princess and her two suitor princes, both of whom have secrets of their own. Their guide is not a gentle philosopher-poet, but a sassy demon with his own reasons for being their escort through all nine levels. They have to find the blue rose in the deepest part of Hell and make it into an antidote potion before the next full moon or the princess dies.  
Things have changed a little—okay, a lot—since old Dante made his visit. Hell is timeless, existing in all times simultaneously. Along the way they'll meet the Furies, a little thief named Dodger, a few gods and goddesses, and step over Satan's chewing gum and they're getting quite an education in the process.  But time is running out for the princess....


At long last, her father stood, signaling with a wave that the dancing would begin. Servants rushed to obey, but Zara rescued the bowl of grapes and hid it in a niche behind a tapestry. It would serve her well to have a cool, sweet treat to see her through the hours of dancing ahead.

Defiantly, she popped another into her mouth and grinned like a conspirator at Prince Kennit when he hid a large goblet in the same niche. He leaned over to whisper, "I shall share my water, if you share your grapes."

Nodding agreement, Zara allowed her father to sweep her into his arms for the opening dance. At least dancing quickened the heart and brought a flush to one's cheeks. She would take what she could get in the way of exercise. Undoubtedly by now the stablemen had their orders to tell her that her stallion had a rock in his hoof, a sprain in his foreleg, or any other lie to forestall her riding him away, even for an hour.

No sooner did her father relinquish her hand than a dance slate was pressed into her palm by the seneschal, who'd kindly–he thought—taken a list of partners for her. She glanced down, and read quickly. No prince was permitted more than two dances in a row with her, though there were conspicuous empty spots left on the list for her to discreetly signify her choice by permitting more than two dances with any prince that caught her eye.

Naturally, Prince Bram the Perfect was first on the list. King Ragnar was making his preferences perfectly clear. She was beginning to hate that word.

Zara handed the slate back to the seneschal with a nod of thanks, and raised her arms for Prince Bram to take her back out on the floor. She ignored the tremble in her stomach, and told her fears to settle. He may be boring, but he was the best choice so far.

But her stomach did not settle. It rumbled and grew worse. Her face felt flushed and her fingertips felt as if they were ice cold. She could no longer feel her feet, and every step became an agonizingly icy stab. Zara persevered, knowing it was likely she'd caught some small illness from all the newcomers. Tomorrow, she promised herself a morning of rest.

Many of the older courtiers retired, including most of the contenders after one dance with her. The drunkards stumbled through a dance with her before being discreetly removed by the staff, and the oldsters confessed themselves quite worn out and retired from the field. Only one contender had to be threatened with being fed his balls before he stopped fondling her, so Zara thought she got off lucky.

Finally, only Prince Bram and Prince Kennit remained. Kennit took pity on her feverish face and asked that a small table be set near one of the open windows, permitting a cool breeze to dry the sweat pouring from Zara's brow.

Prince Bram, not to be outdone, fetched her grapes from their hiding place and fed them to her one by one, pausing only when she turned and shared Prince Kennit's goblet.

Finding a common subject to discuss had been difficult, for they, all three, had vastly different interests. The three of them settled on a card game made fashionable in Bram's kingdom the previous summer, and he taught them to play "Bell and Candle" with enthusiasm.

Zara noted their differing styles with interest. Bram played with reckless abandon, bluffing and making daring plays to get desired sets of matches. Kennit played with care and precision, rarely making a bluff but devastating when he did because it was unexpected. She counted the cards and noted the matches already made, and could guess at what would be dealt next. Between them, they rang the bell provided by the staff equally well.

Soon, Zara's illness began to tell upon her. She fought her wavering eyesight and surreptitiously wiped the sweat pouring from her brow, using the ruse of setting the water and grapes on the ledge of the open window to cool them as an excuse for sticking her face in the wind as much as possible, even if the breeze seemed to stick a thousand icy needles in her skin. It dried her sweat and made her appear less like an apple-cheeked peasant, didn't it?

Kennit had escorted her to the window, ostensibly to get a drink for himself from the goblet. He leaned close and whispered, "You are ill, Zara. End this charade and stop teasing. Pick Bram and have done. Go to bed. Your wedding and bedding of his perfection can wait a few more days."

Zara planted her trembling hands on the ledge and ate another grape for its cool sweetness in her hot, dry throat. The floor seemed wreathed in smoke. How odd. Was there fog and the window allowed it entry? Shame washed over her as she realized that's what both the princes thought–that she was teasing and being coy. How wrong they were! "I'm not teasing, Kennit. I can't decide." The fog rose higher, swirling around her thighs. She reached up to close the shutter, and her hand met only air.

Bram's chair scraped. "Watch her. She's going out the window!"

Kennit's hand closed about her wrist. "Stop, Zara. Stop. If you can't choose, then go to bed. None of us will die before the morrow."

Zara swayed and fell into Kennit's arms. "Pardon. Are you sure, Kennit? Why can't you be perfect too?" The fog wrapped around her and enveloped her.

His soft voice was the last she heard. "I am. I'm perfectly me, and that's all I want to be."

Buy Link:

Monday, January 3, 2011

How fast it all happened

Several of my friends have expressed shock at how quickly this all happened. For me the days passed with agonizing slowness.
Randy got what we thought was the flu on the 14th of December. On the 20th, I took him to a clinic. They called an ambulance. After a day in the ER at the Naval Hospital, Randy was transferred and admitted to a civilian hospital where they could monitor his blood oxygen levels with the latest equipment in a private room. That lasted but one day before he began to have hypoxia from lack of oxygen and they put him in ICU and ventillated him. At first, they sedated him for his own comfort, but it soon became clear he was comatose without the chemical assistance.
For days, throughout the holidays, they fought for his life. Some seemed to help temporarily, some failed miserably. I'll spare you some gory details. I was heartily grateful Randy remained blissfully unaware of the indignities his body suffered. I was there every day, and often winced inwardly. This was Randy's first (and only) hospital stay.
Then they realized he didn't have pneumonia but a horrible mold infection in his lungs called Aspergillosis. By the time they discovered this horrible fact, the mold had not only clogged his lungs but also several of his systems including digestive. He went into renal failure because the kidneys clog on the huge mold spores. (They look like giant fuzzy caterpillars.) Every treatment caused another system to fail or develop a problem. One by one, each failure led to another until his body simply quit without warning.
At 9 PM on the 2nd, the nurse called me to say the last ditch effort had failed, and would I like to come say my goodbyes. Before I could even put my tennis shoes on and make a few phone calls, they called back. Randy was dead. 

Lena Austin


PROMO Excerpt: Coyote Non-Grata X version-- by Lena Austin


Coyote Non Grata
by Lena Austin
Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-59596-851-7
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Length: Novella


The Creator laughs at human plans...
Dr. Jeff Gleason rejected his Comanche heritage and became a volcanologist studying the giant magma chamber beneath the National Park. Until his modern job and his Medicine heritage crossed paths.

Rody, wounded and rejected from his coyote shifter pack, seeks refuge and medical help from the human in the ranger shack, then joins his new friend on a sexual romp that will lead to a new mating of coyote and man that hasn't happened since the white man came to the park.

...because the Creator has plans of his own.



Lena Austin

Welcome to my Blog!

Thanks for popping by! Don't sit on the whipping horse unless you want to find out how it's used. I speak my mind and annoy many people, but all of it is meant in good spirit. Feel free to argue with me. I like it.

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