I've known for awhile that the Dimidium series had to be divided into another book. I've been working obsessively in the new book three, taking parts from book two and the now book four.
Here is an excerpt. Lainie has been hurt and Jeffrey is with her. Lainie loves to drive Jeffrey crazy.

Jeffrey turned to smile at Lainie, but she had just taken a partially eaten doughnut covered with lint out of her shirt pocket. He grabbed it before she could put it in her mouth and he growled.
“What?” she asked. “The boys are hungry. So am I.”
“No more bad foods. You promised.”
“I crossed my fingers,” she said.
“What’s that got to do with doughnuts?”
“Human thing,” called Trevor.
“Don’t you try to trick me, Lynx. I’ll be watching you from now on. What have you got in your mouth now?”
“Thocolate,” said Lainie, munching on a chocolate bar. “Other pocket.”
“You have any more of that human sugary stuff?” he asked.
“Nope,” she said.
“Did she put her hands behind her back?” asked Trevor.
“Yeah, why?” Jeffrey looked over at Trevor.
Trevor turned his back and showed his brother crossed fingers. Jeffrey snarled and looked at his wife.
“What’s in your mouth now?” he asked.
“Licorice.”
Jeffrey took it away. “Any more junk food?”
“Nope.”
He turned her over and her fingers were crossed.
“Next time, you lose those fingers.”
Lainie pulled out a taffy from another pocket.
“Give me that. Am I going to have to body search you?”
“I’m up for that,” said Lainie.
“You drive me crazy, Runt.”
“That’s my job, Mega Man, that’s my job.”
“Glad you know your place in this marriage. What do you have in your mouth now? Give me.”
Lainie took a fireball out of her mouth and plopped it in Jeffrey’s hand.
“It’s all sticky,” Jeffrey looked for a place to throw it and Lainie opened her mouth.
“Toss it back in. I’m starving.”
“Food will be here shortly,” said her mother wrapping the fireball in a napkin, puckering her face.
“Lainie, I’m going to pay you back for saving me,” said Trevor.
“What?” Lainie sat halfway up. “No, not that. Don’t you dare. I mean, think nothing of it. No need to repay me.”
“Ogre, go upstairs to lockers forty two and forty three. They’re extra lockers and they’re where Lainie hides all that junk food. Topu told me he found her stash. They’re overflowing with human sweets.”
“Traitor,” said Lainie.

As writers, we all have writing tics. One of the worst? Starting a sentence with 'it'. I tend to use this when I get lazy. Do you?

In frustration, I discovered that one of my beta readers isn't really reading my book, only making generalized comments. Why not just tell me my book isn't for her? Has this happened to you?

I'm currently revising and editing two different book series. This is a time-consuming project, but I'm hoping both will be published by the end of the year. They've been years in the making.

Marketing tip: Make sure your blog or your website has links where readers can purchase your books.

Love Honor and Respect

I've been reviewing and doing minor changes to Book One. Here is a short segment of Trevor fighting a vampire:

The vampire grabbed him from behind, his fangs positioned at Trevor’s neck. Unable to turn, Trevor, daggers in hand, threw his arms towards the Accursed’s back and shoved the daggers in deep.
The vampire hissed. “What are you waiting for? Kill him.” He pried at Trevor’s arms, but couldn’t dislodge the daggers.
The men leapt up and pummeled Trevor’s face, stomach, and groin, but he didn’t pull away from the Accursed or take his hands off his daggers. His attackers lagged, their breaths in heavy gasps, and as a last resort they yanked uselessly at his arms hoping to pull the daggers free.
When they stepped back to regain their breath, Trevor was still clutching the daggers that were stuck in the vampire’s back. He lifted his legs and kicked both men away and they slumped to the ground.
In a burst of speed, Trevor yanked out one dagger, wrapped his arm around his enemy’s neck, and tossed the Accursed forward to the ground. “We should have known that a leech was involved,” he muttered. In his fury and hatred, his fangs now protruded.
The two men cowered back. “Oh God,” said one of them, “it’s another one.”
As the vampire stood, Trevor quickly removed his other dagger. The two enemies tussled rapidly, a turbid ball of arms, legs, and fangs while the humans watched, terrified.
The Accursed flung Trevor backwards. He landed flat with a crunch, his glass vials breaking. Furious, he jumped up, throwing himself on the vampire.
“One day we’ll eradicate your sort.” He flung the Accursed into a wall and with his daggers in hand, sliced him into pieces in a whirring action. He kicked the head aside, pulled a potion out of his pocket and poured it on the remaining parts. Smoke rose and all but the head disappeared. The two men covered their noses and choked on the fumes while Trevor pulled out a plastic sack and placed the head into it and then put the bag in his backpack.
He wrinkled his nose at the smell and felt the pain of his swollen left eye. He wiped at the blood trickling down his jaw from his nose and looked at the humans with contempt. “Which one punched me in the nose and who blackened my eye?”

Did you know you can find my ebooks at Walmart? Just click the link below.

Love Honor and Respect to all

As writers, we tend to write quickly, doing our best to get our thoughts down on paper, but when we go back to edit, there they are - punctuation mistakes.

Let's talk quotation marks. The following information is from Grammarly:
Quotation Marks: Rules How to Use Them CorrectlyMarko Ticak
Basics

• We use quotation marks with direct quotes, with titles of certain works, to imply alternate meanings, and to write words as words.
• Block quotations are not set off with quotation marks.
• The quoted text is capitalized if you’re quoting a complete sentence and not capitalized if you’re quoting a fragment.
• Commas and periods always go inside the quotation marks in American English; dashes, colons, and semicolons almost always go outside the quotation marks; question marks and exclamation marks sometimes go inside, sometimes stay outside.
• In American English, single quotation marks are used for quotes within quotes.
• 
  
  
  
• Love Honor and Respect to all.
  

This is the last part of Chapter Two:

“There’s no mistake that you’re a Duff. You seem to possess a high level of their genes. I’m not in the market for a relationship.”
“You must accept my help. My friend Telulla explained it to me at the end of my vacation last year. She’s a fortune teller,” she said, nonchalantly.
“A…a fortune teller?” Simon heard Dixon guffaw.
“Yes, Simon,” replied April.
“Who? What?” said a confused Simon.
“Telulla. She lives down the street and had just opened her shop when we met,” April said patiently. “She knew I had a crush on an older man. It’s my responsibility to guide you into our future, she said.”
Dixon walked in, composed, fighting a grin, and sat down. After asking his niece about her school year and her father, he was ready to leave. “We best head over to the property. We can see Aunt Tillie later. Simon?”
Simon stood slowly and walked to the door, the uneaten piece of gingerbread still in his hand. He stopped to glance at April before he went outside, and she smiled at him. As he climbed in the jeep, he watched the house. April ran outside and waved good-bye, hugging the stuffed dragon.
“Your face, man,” said Dixon, hooting. “It says it all. A mission. Just too clever. What fun. I can’t wait to share this with Dixie, Jesse, and Dad.”
“Don’t forget to page the Prime Minister. Let’s also publish it in your paper and all the other newspapers so the entire country can read about it.”
“Good idea. I’ll consider it.”
“You would.” They looked at each other and grinned.
As Simon ate the slice of gingerbread, he considered April’s offer. He excelled in challenges. It’s why he bartered successfully over prices. He boxed vigourously and never lost, so April could try her best, but Simon was determined not to let her win. If Dixie couldn’t get him to marry her, no-one could, and certainly not a child. He’d placate April’s foolish dreams, but he’d never give in to her.

I hope you enjoyed this section.
Love Honor and Respect

I was in a writer's group once not long after a popular vampire series was written. So many young writers decided to try their hands at vampires. Most were terrible; a few were exceptional. That's when I got the idea for Geraldina, an older, know-it-all, church-going lady who meets a vampire. From that one story, several more about Geraldina unfolded.
Here is an excerpt from 'An Offer I Must Refuse':
“Geraldina.a.a.a,” hissed Victor.
Snookum-Doodles’ fur stood up around his sweater and he gave a low growl. He flattened his ears against his head and backed behind Gerri’s typewriter as he stared at the ungodly intruder.
 “Now, now, Snookum-Doodles, no need to get nasty. If ya want more pudding, finish what ya have first. Shame, bad kitty. Behave yerself. I need this lesson fer the church’s young adults’ class tomorrow.” She shook her head. “Can’t believe all this nonsense about vampires.” Looking up, she called out, “Lard, I thank ya I ain’t as dumb as everyone else.”
Gerri looked down at her paper through her pince-nez, which hung from a chain around her neck. Mumbling “good” and “silly young ‘uns”, she had yet to spot the thin short stranger standing in her room with his cape pulled across the lower half of his pallid face, held in place by one hand.
 “Geraldina.a.a.a.a.a” he snarled, emphasizing every other syllable. “I, Veector dhee Veectoroose haf come vor you to make you von of us. Avter tonight you vill lif vorever and be no more trouble.”
Gerri jumped in her seat.  “Sweet Jesus! Are ya talking, Snookums?”  She gaped at Snookums who was mewing whiningly, and she turned to see what bothered him. Frightened, she pounded her fist several times on her chest above her heart.
“Oh, my, my. Oh, my, my, my. Ya near done gave me a heart attack. Young man, ya should a’rung the doorbell. How’d ya get in here, anyhow? Shirley’s son, Buddy, give ya the key? Yer one of his starving actor friends, I bet. That Shirley and Buddy. Why don’t they feed you people sometimes? Lookie here, I’m a might busy. I have a class ta teach tomorrow on why vampires don’t exist and I’m up too late already. A woman like me needs her beauty rest. It’s past 11 p.m. and I’m not done yet.”
The young man looked curiously at her clock, which clearly read one a.m. “I tink there vill never be enough time for your beauty rest.”
 Gerri chuckled. “Ain’t you sweet. Ya want a bite, do ya? The fridge is downstairs. Go on. Get. Lock the door after ya leave.” She checked the paper in the typewriter as she waved him away.
“I…vill haf my bite…here.”
“Eh? Whatcha say?” Gerri looked at the stranger and grasped at her heart. “Oh, my Lardy.” Her brows arched.
“Vinally…you see. I vrighten you, yes?” He spoke with a strange accent, trilling his r’s, and had trouble pronouncing th’s, v’s, and w’s.
“Oh, God’s dumplings, yes. Look at ya.” Gerri pointed a knobby crooked finger at him. “Oh, ya poor boy. My, my, my. Yer black hair is stringy and way too long. Those eyebrows! Boy, haven’t ya heard of tweezers?” She leaned forward with squinched eyes, fixing her pince-nez in place. “And those eyes! They’re like  black pins! Can ya see very well?” Gerri waved her hand with two fingers held up.