Your Mid-Week Update for 02/24/16

I think I need to kill Charlotte. I know I've said that before but I really mean it this time. She called me on Monday morning and said we had to meet as soon as possible. So that evening, we went out for coffee and she stared at me. For an uncomfortable amount of time. She just sipped her coffee and stared. The poor woman has gone off the deep end. About half an hour into our silent coffee, she finished drinking and pulled her purse on to the table. I guess she was gathering courage by being silent and psychotic. I can't even guess at what's going on in her mind. 

She started pulling documents out of her purse until the tiny cafe table was overflowing. Daniel's bank statements, phone records, old case files stolen from his office. She's looking into the possibility that one of his old clients or subjects came after him. Like this is some spy movie where the private investor looks into the potential adulterer and uncovers a complicated drug smuggling operation instead. I saw some of Daniel's cases while we were stalking each other. He got slapped or punched by unhappy clients on occasion but nothing beyond a broken up marriage or an employer terminating a thief. Nothing that would get him killed. With the exception of my case file.K

Which I hadn't thought of until she laid it out in front of me.

By the grace of whatever deity may be watching over me, my name was omitted from the file. I know when the case was officially dropped, Danielle too my name off the record so he could investigate without losing his job. It is the one and one time I am glad for Daniel's obsession. After he stopped the investigation and after his disappearance no one at his work apparently looked into his files and noticed the anomaly.

I guess no one really cared for him except for Charlotte and me.

But now Charlotte has been looking into the death of my co-worker and wondering if the "potential suspect" or "unnamed persons responsible" could be behind his murder. She's thoroughly convinced that it's murder. There's no swaying her on that subject.

I just sat there and listened. Let her ask me questions about what I knew - my response was always "nothing". I told her my case was unrelated to the one she was investigating and the reason she couldn't find my file was because it was transferred to his co-worker a short time after Daniel took the case.

She seemed suspicious - or not entirely lucid - and I fear she's going to start asking the right questions.

Our meeting was brief and she left frazzled. I don't want to do it but she has to go. I've been putting it off, distracting myself with meaningless murder. I've been trying out different methods, seeing which way causes the least amount of suffering. I don't want her to go through any more pain than she already has.

My dear friend.

I will find the perfect poison for you

Any suggestions please let me know.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe  

Review of Underworld's Daughter

In preparation for the release of Immortal’s Spring (the third book in Molly Ringle’s fantastic Chrysomelia series) I read book two in the series: Underworld’s Daughter. You can read my review of book one here.

New immortals are being created for the first time in thousands of years thanks to the tree of immortality discovered by Persephone and Hades. But Sophie Darrow is not one of them. Nikolaos, the trickster, has given the last ripe immortality fruit to two others, the reincarnations of the gods Dionysos and Hekate: Tabitha and Zoe, currently Sophie's and Adrian's best friends.

While the disappointed Sophie struggles to remember Hekate and Dionysos from ancient Greece, she must still face her daily life as a mortal university freshman. Tabitha and Zoe have their own struggles as they come to terms with being newly immortal and their own haunting dreams of past lives and loves. The evil committed by Thanatos invades all of them in heartbreaking memories, and worse still, Sophie and her friends know their enemies are determined to kill again. And even the gods can't save everyone.

Your Mid-Week Update for 02/17/16

My husband can be very romantic when he wants to – and I prefer it that way. A husband who brings you flowers every day is trying too hard or hiding something. It’s the ones who are romantic only when you need it that you keep.

This was our first Valentine’s Day in two years that wasn’t completely ruined by dramatic oversight. Last year it was my fault. I was so obsessed with seducing Daniel that our Valentine’s dinner was a quiet, distracted night at home. The year before was entirely his fault. He picked up an extra shift without realizing what day it was and left me stranded at the restaurant for an hour before I gave up and got drunk on the bathroom floor – it was a bad year. But this year was different. We made plans and double checked those plans, made sure there were no more stalkers; we had this down but we didn’t try to make up for the last two years. Overcompensating always leads to disaster. In the morning he gave me flowers and I made breakfast – not a romantic breakfast, Jason was also there – and then we stayed at home for most of the day, cleaned and…danced.

That is the only romantic trope that I admit to indulging in: dancing in the living room just because we can. You know when you’re in a comfortable silence and you just have an overwhelming sense of happiness and contentment that you just have to move? It’s that sappy. James and I don’t do sappy very often so when it does happen, we tend to laugh at ourselves. Our unprovoked laughter was right around the time Jason took off to be with his girlfriend. I don’t blame him.

I expected us to do something kinky and illegal with the child out of the house but no, we kept cleaning. And then we went to our dinner reservation together and we had a lovely moderately priced barely-lit dinner. Seriously, why does every restaurant think that mood lighting involves preventing customers from reading their menu? It’s just an inconvenience and I may need glasses soon.

Nope. I don’t want to think about how old I’m getting *cough*40 next year*cough*

I swear to god, if I go through some awkward mid-life crisis, I’m going to be very put out.

Anyways, we had a wonderful dinner and then we went home and had sex on the kitchen floor. I know, that’s not the first time I’ve typed that sentence. I can’t explain it. Apparently linoleum just really does it for us.

That was surprisingly not the most embarrassing part of that evening. Jason walked in just as we finished cleaning up; if he had been any early one of us would have been very…exposed. But instead when he walked in, he got very quiet and asked us to sit down.

James and I have always prided ourselves on our rigorous – and occasionally adventurous – sex life. When the kids came along everything changed. It meant we had to get more creative but it also meant that we had two extra people to take care of – children. It helped that they came preloaded with a bunch of parental settings so we weren’t raising them and teaching them lessons so much as we were just ushering them into adulthood.

One of the things, I assumed had been dealt with before I received the children was the sex talk. My mother gave me the talk when I was about 10 – and then again when I turned 16 with a lot more graphic detail – so I assumed that taking on a 12 and a 14 year old meant that I didn’t have to worry about that. I really wish I had double checked before they turned into teenagers.

Jason had sex with his girlfriend. And they didn’t use protection.

I am surprisingly calm about my 17 year old son having sex. I don’t need to think about it but it’s surprisingly fine. It’s the unprotected part that has me worried. When he sat us down and told us – because he’s also a little worried – he confessed…or rather he blamed us. He said that he was just following our example because yes, on occasion the kids have caught us having sex, and yes, on occasion it’s unprotected. So he blamed us for setting a bad example and we promptly corrected him by reminding him that we are adults, happily married, and are mature enough to make that sort of rash decision. He still refuses to take full responsibility for his little mistake.

He is a little shit who would totally deserve it to have his life turned upside down with an unplanned pregnancy but that’s not fair to the child – or his girlfriend – and I am not ready to be a grandmother. So, we’ve agreed to “keep an eye on the situation” is the phrase we used. If his girlfriend gets pregnant, we’ll talk. But one night of unprotected sex isn’t always a life changing event.

But it’s going to be a while before I can look my son in the eye without going back to our conversation. About my son. Having sex.

Yup, I am surprisingly okay with this.

I am absolutely lying.

So that was my Valentine’s Day. Just the most romantic of days.

On a completely unrelated note: My sister called yesterday. Just to make sure I remembered it was her birthday. How ridiculous is that? Christmas may not have gone as well as she’d hoped – although Ginette, her parole officer, loved my sweet potatoes – but she’s still the closest family member I have so her birthday is in my calendar. I think she’s afraid of losing our connection, especially after losing Sandra. I have to find a way to reassure her without actually going up there and talking to her.

I got it. I’ll send Jason up there to ask why he never got the sex talk. That’ll show her I care.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 02/10/16

I was wrong; Charlotte is crazier than I thought.

As discussed, we went out for drinks on Saturday night. She looked even worse than last week. She’s not sleeping or eating, her outfit was at least a week old. We were at the bar for two hours and all she did was order vodka and rant about her different theories about what happened to Daniel. I couldn’t get a word in edge-wise to calm her down or turn her focus to other topics. The woman is obsessed.

I hate to say this but…I think I have to kill Charlotte. It’s for her own good, really. She can’t keep going on like this. It’s not healthy.

I don’t know what else to say. I’ve thought about it for the last few days and discussed it with James last night. He agrees with me: Charlotte is a danger to herself and to others – particularly me and my family.

Now I know what you’re thinking: just because she’s crazy doesn’t mean she needs to die. There are very few people in this world who need to die. Will die, should die, can die; certainly. But “need” is a very strong word. Do I think the unstable woman unintentionally threatening my family should die? Absolutely. Do I have the means to carry out that action? You beat your ass, I do. So what’s stopping me?

I still like Charlotte.

She was one of my very first girlfriends and she’s really a victim in all this. I know that but she’s handling her victimhood very poorly. Becoming obsessive and far too close to the truth is dangerous. If she starts asking the wrong questions, someone might get suspicious and want to keep her quiet. On the other hand, she may just starve to death or die from sleep deprivation. Maybe I won’t have to do any work at all.

But if she gets too close, I won’t have a choice.

I don’t know.

I don’t want to but it may be my only option.

What do you think?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

City of Legend Blitz

Check out the promo event for all three books in Cheyanne Young's YA superhero series and enter to the awesome giveaway.

Series: City of Legends

Publisher: Alloy Entertainment

Release: February 2016

Purchase series: Amazon

GOODREADS

Book One: City of Legends

Maci Knight has grown up in the shadow of legends. Her father and her brother, Max, are Heroes, worshipped by humans and Supers alike for their strength and valor. All she’s ever wanted is to follow in their footsteps, to fight villains and protect humankind. But Maci has a secret—one that could change everything. 

Maci had a twin sister who died the same day they were born. In their world, one twin is always good, while the other always eventually turns evil. There’s no way to tell which twin will go rogue . . . which means no one knows if Maci will suddenly become a villain. 

The closer she gets to her eighteenth birthday, the more she has feelings she can’t control: Violence. Rage. Revenge. Maci wants to be a Hero. But she may not have a choice . . . 

The first in a trilogy, City of Legends introduces a new superhero mythology and an unstoppable heroine.

Purchase: Amazon

~EXCERPT~

Crimson throws an arm over my shoulder, the scent of her cherry lip-gloss briefly overriding the stench of fish tanks. “So, Maci Knight . . . think you have what it takes to pass your Hero exam?”

I know she’s not talking about the hours of training I’ve endured over the last decade and this last week of performing skill tests for the examiners to prove I’m ready. Crimson’s question goes deeper than that. She’s talking about the core of being a Hero. Placing my life on the line to save people I don’t even know. Throwing away the idea of a normal life, all to uphold an oath of protecting those who can’t protect themselves.

The Hero Brigade is the most elite group on the planet. I meet her gaze and the corner of my mouth twists into a grin. “Hell yes.”

BOOK TWO: The Valiant

After the most vicious villain attack in centuries, Maci Knight is struggling to put the shattered pieces of her life back together. She survived, but barely, and her family will never be the same. The only good thing to come out of the attack is that the Elders have granted her probationary Hero status. Now she’s desperate to prove that she has what it takes to shine in the field.

Maci gets her first chance when she’s called in to stop an illegal fighting ring where humans are battling to the death. But when she goes toe-to-toe with the fighters, she’s shocked to discover that even she can’t contain them. The humans are strong—supernaturally so. Maci knows that this is the work of the villain underground and is determined to put an end to it. But how do you fight an enemy who won’t show their face?

In the second installment of the City of Legends trilogy, Maci Knight will find out what she’s truly made of.

Purchase: Amazon

~EXCERPT~

“Something strange is going on,” Katia says.

“It’s almost like they have power,” I say.

The two Heroes look at me like I’ve lost my mind. “They’re human, Maci,” Katia says. “They can’t have power.”

“I know,” I say quickly, feeling the sudden need to defend my intelligence. But something about my words rings true. Even with dedicated strength training, humans are weak. If I hadn’t seen firsthand what happens when a Super and human breed, I would have suspected that these humans were some kind of half-Super. But this . . . well this, I don’t have an explanation for. And if we don’t figure it out and put a stop it, it could bring unsurmountable chaos into the human’s world—and ours.

BOOK THREE: Empire Rising

Eighteen years ago, Maci Knight’s family was destroyed when Aurora Falcon killed her mother. Now Aurora’s partner, Felix, has kidnapped Maci’s brother. For five long months, there’s been no sign of Max. His Codex is offline and she can’t feel even the slightest trace of his power. Maci refuses to give up hope, but when a new threat on King City emerges, Maci is ordered to abandon her search. 

Somehow Felix has managed to do the unthinkable: repower all the villains that Central has depowered over the years. Now they’ve banded together to get revenge on the Supers who wronged them. What feels like an arduous mission becomes an opportunity when Maci realizes that if she can stop the villains, she can get them to lead her to Felix—and her brother. 

In the action-packed conclusion of the City of Legends trilogy, Maci vows to save her city and bring her family back together—no matter the cost.

Purchase: Amazon

~EXCERPT~

Evan approaches and slides his hands around my waist. A chill goes through me at the feel of his touch and the familiar tingle of his power so close to mine. Heroes train hard to hone and strengthen their power more than any other Super, so it has a distinct and dominant feeling. Evan spent a few years in Hero training, but his power isn’t like that. It doesn’t burn like Crimson’s power when she’s in a frenzied fight, and it doesn’t intimidate like one of the older Heroes might. It encircles my body the same way his arms do, bringing me closer to him spiritually and physically.

Desire courses through my veins. I grab his shoulders and lift up on my toes. Evan grips my waist and lifts me into the air. I close my eyes and kiss him. His lips taste salty and perfect. My fingers slide up through his dirty blonde hair. He deepens the kiss and I hold onto him as if I need his lips to stay alive. I want this moment to last forever. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cheyanne Young is a native Texan with a fear of cold weather and a coffee addiction that probably needs an intervention. She loves books, sarcasm, and collecting nail polish. After nearly a decade of working in engineering, Cheyanne now writes books for young adults and is the author of the City of Legends Trilogy. She doesn’t miss a cubicle one bit.

Cheyanne lives near the beach with her daughter and husband, one spoiled rotten puppy, and a cat that is most likely plotting to take over the world.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER

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Your Mid-Week Update for 02/03/16

Coffee with Charlotte turned into dinner with Charlotte. We had a lot to talk about. Friday after work we met at a café, bought some overly-expensive coffee and sat in the corner. I was expecting to see a woman well put together and happy; I’d freed her of an oppressive uncaring life, but I didn’t recognize her when she first walked in.

She’d died and cut her hair – said that it had gotten in the way and needed a change. I understood that. She’s been through a lot, I can have sympathy for that. But she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her eyes were swollen and purple, the rest of her skin was pale, drained of color. And her hands looked thinner, they shook when I handed her the cup. She was sad, tired, and there was something behind her eyes.

Madness.

That’s a funny word, madness. It seems like such a posh word when used in a sentence but it’s really kind of dirty and incomplete. Madness doesn’t explain how someone is crazy or deranged. It doesn’t tell you what they look or sound like. For example, my dear friend was once beautiful and sensible but the woman I spent Friday night with was crazed but hiding it, losing her grip on rationality, daring me to push her buttons.

I didn’t. I was too in shock.

The evening started calmly enough. We chatted about little things: the weather, local politics, the price of gas. Things quickly progressed to our public lives: stories from work – or in her case, searching from work; it didn’t take long to progress to more sensitive topics. For the first two months after Daniel “disappeared”, several reporters hounded her for quotes and leads, costing her a job interview. She eventually found a job – though she never did tell me what it was – and she’s making semi-steady income which makes her enough to earn some privacy.

I made the mistake of asking how she was coping with the mystery of her missing husband. That’s when we realized it had been several hours and she suggested we go to a restaurant for a “nice, hot meal”.

An hour later we were sitting across from each other with fake authentic Italian food in front of us and an inexplicably expensive bottle of wine between us. That’s when Charlotte looked at me and I saw the madness. She confessed that the reporters made her curious about Daniel’s disappearance so she spends her off-hours investigating what actually happened to him. After months, she thinks she’s close. Daniel was having an affair and when he threatened to leave his mistress, she killed him. Or he ran away with her.

I told her how sorry I felt for her situation and assured her that Daniel wouldn’t have left her for another woman. Which, of course, set her off. She’s now convinced that Daniel is dead and all I could do was apologize for her situation. She looked right through me and just whispered to herself for a few minutes.

I fear Charlotte. This path that she’s on is dangerous and could lead to a lot of messy situations.

I have to keep an eye on her. I need her to come closer to home. I tried to hint at it while we were at dinner but she wasn’t taking it. I don’t think anything I said got through to her. I have to keep trying.

Maybe we’ll go for drinks this weekend, mixing alcohol with crazy may straighten her out.

Wish me luck.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe