Tag Archives: ilona andrews

Audiobooks

I listen to quite a few audiobooks. In fact, I might listen to more books per year than I actually read. Mostly, because I can listen to them in the car and at work which makes my work day much more enjoyable. I can’t listen to music at work. I have a tendency to sing along and no one wants that. Really, no one wants that. It’s weird. Plus, I was never really into music. I like music. I could never just sit and listen to it. I always had to be doing something else. That’s why audiobooks makes so much sense. And with the ability to download the content to my phone (instead of the bulky CD’s pack you would need in years past) it’s so much easier. My Audible library is ridiculous and quite frankly Amazon has too much of my money. Actually, there are a couple of authors that have all my money because I own their books in three formats (physical books, ebooks, and audiobooks). Thanks Kresley Cole and Ilona Andrews! No really. Thanks! I want to be you when I grow up some day. I’m 38, by the way.

The flip side is that audiobooks can also be very very bad, independent of the book itself depending on the narrator. This is a performance and quite frankly, if you can’t do an accent, don’t try. I’m listening to something now that just delivers everything in a monotone and has the worst Irish accent I’ve ever heard. Lucky Charms Leprechaun type accent. It’s horrendous and I’m not sure I want to listen to it. I’m in it to win it though. I’ve listened to two hours and it’s only eight hours long. I might as well finish.

As we’ve said before, I have a problem with books. Is there a BA (books anonymous) group I can join? Do I even want to?

Nope! And I have zero shame about that.

 

Violet Abyss Snippet

I’ve got nothing today. So, instead, I thought I’d give you a little snippet from Violet Abyss coming in May. I’m working on the 1st round edits now.

This is the lazy way out…I know.

“As much as I appreciate the distraction, we need to talk about this.” I sighed, still feeling the endorphins coast through my system and unable to keep the grin from my face.

“Do we?” Dean growled.

“Yes.” I grabbed my T-shirt and slung it over my head, tossing it across the room. It was covered in sweat and sex. I couldn’t wear it downstairs in a house filled with shifters that would smell it a mile away. “You know it’s a trap, right?”

“Yes,” Dean growled beside me, sliding his hand across the lace of my bra.

My nipple puckered again under the warm caress of his hand.

“And yet, the only way to curry favor with the other Territorial Lieges is to attend.” Patrick stretched out beside me, lithe and lean like a satisfied cat.

“When was the last time a gathering of this type happened?” I asked Patrick, watching the muscles ripple beneath his alabaster skin, still marred by the scars caused by silver spikes when he’d been tortured in Faerie. I was getting used to them, almost not even seeing them anymore but when I did notice, a pang of guilt always twisted my stomach into knots. It wasn’t my fault, but I hadn’t saved him in time to stop it. For that, I would never forgive myself.

“Never.”

“Well, hell,” I snorted. “That can’t be good.”

“You said it,” Dean added, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.

“So, what’s our plan?” I asked, feeling the endorphins wearing off and the edge of anxiety making my blood pressure rise.

“Stay alive,” Dean snorted.

“We must demonstrate our power, our self-reliance, and resources to the Territorial Lieges. We must also show our superiority over the Lebensblut board. We must give the Territorial Lieges a reason to side with us or this entire endeavor will be fruitless. A rebellion of sorts is in order and this conclave is our best chance to gain support,” Patrick said, his voice harsh but firm. A sexy, gruff tone I recognized from that night in Crimson when he’d shoved me up against a wall, not knowing if he was going to kill me or kiss me. He’d kissed me and it had been one hell of a kiss.

“What you’re saying is that I shouldn’t hide who and what I am . . .”

“No, baby, no hiding this time,” Dean grumbled.

“Correct. No hiding. We want them to fear us. We want each of them to weigh their options and find Konyam and the board lacking.” Patrick brushed a strand of my long, blond hair from my face. His cool fingers brushed across my forehead and I shivered in the humid New Orleans air.

RT2013

Am I the only one not concerned with fame?

I don’t care that you’re famous.

If you’re an ass, you’re just a famous ass and I don’t have time to deal with that.

If you have fans (and don’t get me wrong, I’m totally jealous), but at least pay attention to them and don’t treat them like their shit. If they want to take a picture with you, smile and say “sure, that would be great!” Also, don’t hide who you are. If you started out as self-published, acknowledge it and embrace it. Be proud of where you came from. Yes, now you have a very VERY lucrative publishing contract but own up. You started out as fan-fiction, stole someone else’s characters and wrote a very subpar set of novels that the general masses adore. Own it!

Maybe its me but I can’t respect a person who doesn’t acknowledge who and what they are, the work they’ve done, and tries to be something they’re not.

As an author, I strive to be better every day, to make my characters as real for my readers as I can. I’m not going to lie. I’ve written some shit in my day, unabashed shit but I know that and acknowledge it. I learn from it and and develop not only as an author but as a person taking the good with the bad. I feel that most of us who are in the business for a while want to be proud of our work and we understand that rejection, development, and tears are all part of the process. If you catapult to stardom without the benefit of failure, you lose something. You lose the ability to be humble, thankful, and grow.

I realize this is a little late considering that RT was in April but better late than never…right?