Inbox cat says spend your time napping when you can.
I’ve been pondering the fact that life usually doesn’t go as planned. In my twenties and thirties, I sold stories—I had an agent for a while. The agent proved a bit shady, so I dropped her. I wasn’t overwhelmed by offers of publication.
During the peak of the Twilight era, I wrote a vampire erotica story. I was having a hard time selling it when I ran into a friend who had the same problem. We created an anthology for our stories, and others. She launched a publishing house, and we put out four anthologies.
Then, just as I’d always dreamed it, though rather later in the timeline than I’d planned, I pitched her my fantasy series and she said, “I’d publish that.”
So here we are. Tales of the End Times continues its small, imperious, yet antihierarchical reign, facing down the patriarchy, white supremacy, capitalism, and toxic monotheism, with lots of queer sex.
Now book 4, tentatively Arise, You Rebel Angels, is off for my publisher’s first read.