Anywho, before I got sick I read a Godspeed, a beautifully written steampunk novel by February Grace. Honestly people, she stole my breath within the first few pages. I wanted to know more about her and her book so I did what I always did. I emailed her, gushed over the book and demanded an interview. Ok, not really demanded but nonetheless she answered my questions.

And now… you get to read it, just remember it was done in this past fall.

Bru? Sorry for the delay. I know you can’t have a Guinness so I’ll have one for you and here’s an ice cold Coke for you.

1. Can you give us a quick synopsis of Godspeed?

FG: Godspeed is the story of a courageous young doctor who breaks the law to treat his unique patients, using his own inventions to help them even though in his time this sort of ‘experimentation’ on humans could cost you your life. The story is told through the eyes of one of those patients, a young woman who comes into his care after she collapses in the street and is discovered there by the doctor’s best friend.Of course she is quite taken with him from the start, and the story goes on from there, with her mystified by the secretive nature of his practice and trying to piece together the puzzle of who he really is and why he does what he does.

2. What drew you to the steampunk/romance genre?

FG: I’ve always been drawn to the romance of the idea of technology ahead of its time. I remember being in Disney World as a kid and hearing/seeing references to Jules Verne and HG Wells and how they dreamed worlds ahead of their times technologically, and those images stayed with me. I guess when you think about it, Disney himself did the same thing and has always been a HUGE influence on me (thanks EPCOT Center!)Add that to the fact that my favorite book of all time is Jane Eyre, and I wondered for a long time what would happen if you took what was essentially a love story and embellished it with Steampunk elements.

I had absolutely no idea how to do it though, most of my ideas just fell flat before they took on any life at all. So the thought brewed for a year or two before I ended up doing anything with it. I’ve always been a hopeless (hopeful?!) romantic at heart, so basically any good love story has the potential to stay with me. But I wanted to attempt to write a love story that wouldn’t be outdated two, five, ten years from now, and hopefully this hybrid of both genres has allowed me to do that. I hope it will stand the test of time.

3. What was the inspiration behind this novel?

FG: I won’t bore everyone with the details but basically, I had fifteen surgeries between 2009 and 2011, most of them in 2010, and the actual idea for Godspeed came to me one night when I was awakened abruptly when my pain medication wore off.I was trying to focus on anything I could to stay in the moment– to keep from passing out from the pain so I could get some help and some more medicine since I was in the room alone– and I became aware of the sound of two things: the racing of my heart, and the ticking of my favorite clock on the opposite wall. It has three faces, and they were all ticking so loud and in perfect unison and the line “What is a heart if not the ultimate clockwork?” came to me.

I grabbed the notebook where we had been keeping track of my medication doses and scribbled that down along with a couple other ideas then I somehow fell back to sleep. The original idea was much darker than Godspeed turned out to be, but in the end it turned out to be exactly the story it needed to be.

Add to that the fact my doctors told me that my body has set them back “A hundred and fifty years” as far as what they can do to help my eyesight, and it just led me back again to the idea of a story of a doctor trying to work beyond the limits of existing technology. Put all that together, and you get Quinn Godspeed.

4. One of the reasons why I, and others, loved your book is that you make it seem entirely plausible that there was a London doctor performing these types of experiments in Victorian England. Did you do any research into medical practices of that time?

FG: First of all thank you, you are so very kind. One of the reasons that I set the book in a fictional city, Fairever, (though most certainly it was most closely modeled off of London of the late 1800s) was because I wanted to have room to create whatever I needed to create to serve the story and the characters but still make it believable. Believability is VERY important to me– there is only so much suspension of belief you can expect from a reader before they have what Crow T. Robot from Mystery Science Theater 3000 would refer to as an “I call no way” moment, and can’t invest in the characters. If they can’t invest in the characters then they won’t care what happens to them and won’t finish the book.The beauty of Steampunk influenced writing is that it gives you that freedom of invention but how fantastical those inventions are varies from author to author. But yes, I did research the medical devices of the day. Stethoscopes especially, for example, since one figured in so prominently into the story, and of all things believe it or not, I did a lot of research on typewriters! I don’t want to give any more away than that or it’ll count as a spoiler.

I focused mostly on the characters and telling the story from a patient’s perspective in order to keep it believable but still allow for the Doctor’s innovations. I didn’t want to get too bogged down in the mechanical; that is where the literary aspect of the book comes in, it is more character than technology driven.

5. Many writers take material from their own life and use it as a foundation for their creativity. Is there any part of the story that represents a part of you more than any other?

FG: Oh, that’s a difficult question. It’s not a memoir, but I certainly have plenty of experience to draw on for writing about different types of pain, and of course I had my own issues with my eyesight which gave me perspective as to how to write the character Marielle. I think though in the end the greatest issue I related to is one of belonging; everyone wants to be loved and feel they belong, and my search for those things in life likely bled through onto the pages to a degree, no doubt.

6. What inspired you to write? How long have you been writing?

FG: I was making up stories about my toys before I could hold a pen, my imagination was always working that way, toward creating amazing adventures for them. I remember my first actual creative writing experience as being an extra credit assignment I was given in the fourth grade, to watch clips of fairy tales on the projector at the library then rewrite the endings. I was hooked then, and I kept writing, in one form or another, ever after.

7. Are you currently working on anything new?

FG: I’ve had a lot of health issues since I finished Godspeed and other things going on life-wise so I haven’t been working on a new novel.

I’ve written some short stories and flash fiction and had several poems and short pieces published this year, which has been amazing. I’d love to put together a collection of short stories and a book of poetry. As far as another novel, I am hoping to start working on something this fall when NaNoWriMo comes around (it is great motivation to write) whether I decide to publish it or not.

I’m kind of at a fork in the road with my writing at the moment, unsure if I want to focus more on the shorter pieces and poems instead of novels. While I’ve been mulling it over I’ve been doing a lot of painting, which I also love to do. I think by the end of the year I’ll have a much clearer picture of where I’m headed as a writer.

February Grace is a writer, artist and poet who lives somewhere that is much colder than she would like most of the time. She sings on key, plays by ear, and is more than mildly obsessed with colors, clocks, the Perseids, and science fiction.

She’s done a few more or less interesting things in her life, not the least of which include working for Disney, getting kissed by a Klingon (it was unprovoked) and going blind, though she wouldn’t personally recommend the latter. She would however highly recommend the doctors who helped partially restore her sight after a long series of surgeries between 2009 and 2011.

Her poetry, prose, and/or flash fiction have appeared in The Rusty Nail Literary Magazine, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and Rose & Thorn Journal. Her work can also be found in the recently released anthology Poetry Pact Volume 1.

GODSPEED is her debut novel, and a labor of love she refers to as “Literary romance with steampunk embellishments.”

You can pick up Godspeed at  and Barnes & Noble and add it your Goodreads now!

Follow Bru on Twitter or by checking out her website.  

One I never thought I’d have to hear is, “Worst case scenario, double amputation up to the knees.”

Those words hit me harder than a physical punch to the gut.

I was lying in my hospital bed on the sixth floor. It was sixteen days since I was admitted and my world was thrown upside down without me knowing about it. The initial scare was gone. I had the fight of my life and I won, but I was not without my scars. My left hand was swollen and the tips of my fingers black. My left thumb was completely black and I was just starting to understand that I would have to have it amputated. My hand was so heavy that I had to lift it up with my right in order to move it and with blood flow returning it was also hot to the touch. If I fell asleep with my hand close to my head I would wake up sweating from the radiating heat.

I was out of the ICU for about four days and plans were in motion to move me to a rehab facility the next day. But before I went I needed my fevers to stop and a podiatrist needed to see me to plan a treatment course.

On the fever front we had several theories all that were being addressed so I mentally put that requirement on the back burner.

All that was unknown was my feet.

A few days earlier I finally got out of bed and started walking around. Granted, I needed a blood transfusion of a couple of pints in order to get enough energy to take a few steps without having a heart attack but the point was I could walk. I thought I was as good as gold, the podiatrist would look at my swollen feet with open sores, red and angry, and would put me on some regiment that would help heal the wounds and I’d be on my way.

Instead I had this man standing in front of me in my darkened room telling me that I’d most likely never run, skip or dance with my little girls. His words cut me to the core. He continued to assess my feet but all I heard was white noise.

How could this happen be happening?

At this time I was two days shy of my thirtieth birthday. I should have been wondering if Eric would be able to pull off a big surprise party for me. I should have been enjoying the sun on the hot summer day, watching my girls run around a playground and worrying about sun screen. I should not be lying on a hospital bed listening to someone who wants to take my legs.

The air went out of the room. For the past week I became good at schooling my facial expressions. I had received a lot of mind blowing news in that time and I was coming to the realization that there’s always an option, just take a deep breath and think. But that philosophy did nothing for me in that moment. I hated my life. I hated God. I hated that damn doctor.

My breathing increased and I must have made some indication of my struggle because my mom was at my side within seconds. Her one hand rested on my shoulder while the other one gripped my right hand.

Somewhere in all the anger that filled my body, my mind cleared and I saw my girls.

My two little girls.

With no legs how would I pick them up and spin them around, using the pitch of their giggles to determine to go faster or not? How would I show them how to take a corner kick? Who would chase them around the house on a rainy day to expel their pent up energy?

I would fail them as a mom. 

Now, with all this said, I knew deep down that legs or not I would never fail my children; just being alive proved that. But I allowed myself that moment to grieve, to be scared, to be angry.

Time started again, the doctor left and I lost it. I looked up to my mom with tears blurring my vision and just asked, “why?” All I wanted to know at that moment was why was I going through this. Why did I get sick? What did I do?

My mom fell back on her maternal instincts and just rubbed my back and quietly shushed me. My father reverted back to his overprotectiveness of my childhood and smiled, saying, “I’ll be right back,” and went right out after the doctor. In all of this, that actually is one of my favorite moments, my dad giving the doctor a piece of his mind… and I’ve been on the receiving end of one of my dad’s pieces, I almost felt sorry for the doctor. Almost.

But I digress.

After the doctor returned and pointed out that there is a chance that I could make a full recovery, he explained about the hyperbaric treatment that could save my feet. Time was a huge factor in whether I’d lose just a toe or my legs and I had to get in a chamber right away. That was a Thursday, the following Monday I was all set up and ready to start the first of my fifty-five dives the following day.

For those of you who don’t know I have two feet, minus a pinky toe. I have major deep tissue damage that slows me down some days but I remember that day, those feelings of hatred and anger, and I remember how far I’ve come.

There are a lot of things that happen to us that we never ask for or expect. The trick to getting through them is allowing yourself that time to feel the emotions you’re feeling at the time. Happiness, anger, frustration, confusion, whatever, just feel it. It’s ok to cry, it’s ok to hate your situation, it’s ok to beat your chest and even scream a few curse words.

But that’s not all. There’s a second part to the equation to remember. Feel those emotions when they happen but don’t carry them with you. (Unless they’re the happy emotions. Keep feeling those as long as you can.)

Don’t get confused with feeling angry, sad, or frustrated with feeling sorry for yourself. Anger doesn’t solve anything, but it can be a great motivator. Use the anger to come up with a viable solution but don’t get stuck there. Move on. You don’t have a future if you live in the past.

That day, and the days after, felt like they lasted an eternity. It’s now been ten months since that prognosis. I’ve participated in a three hour spin-a-thon, I’m training for a mud run, and I’m dancing on stage with my oldest daughter.

We might not plan for things but with the right attitude you can overcome just about anything. Even when your favorite TV show is cancelled.

**I just want to note that we stayed with this doctor, he became one of the doctors we were closest with. He may not have given the greatest first impression but his quick thinking got me into the hyperbaric chamber which in turn saved my feet. We had weekly visits with him for months and we had some of our favorite doctor moments with him and his staff. And I’ve forgiven him for his bedside manner.

I love Christmas. You should just know that before you get further into this post. If it’s about Christmas, I am there… with bells on. When the 12 Blogs of Christmas idea popped up I just knew I had to be a part of it and showcasing the movies of the holiday was an obvious choice for me. If there’s a holiday movie out there, either about the holidays or taking place during, chances are I’ve seen it ad nausuem.

But when it comes to picking my favorite I can’t pick just one! Thankfully my tribe mates picked some of the best movies out there and thanks to Marie Patchen and her 12 Cartoon Classics post, there is even more holiday movie goodness for us to feast on.

Before I get into our 12 recommendations I need to give a shout out to three very special Christmas movies that didn’t make the list but are must-sees for my Christmas holiday to be complete.

The first one being, .

This one has a special place in my heart thanks to TNT. Yep, TNT has been playing 24 hours of this new classic every Christmas Eve for some time now. That night is my family’s “formal” dinner at my grandmother’s house. (If you want to know why I put formal in quotes check out Justin’s post on the 12 Christmas Faux Pas.) While we open presents and exchange small talk this little movie that could plays in the background.

Next comes, .

I can’t tell you  how many times I’ve watched this and found myself in a heap of giggly goofiness. I remember seeing this in the movie theatre with my brother and I swore we’d get kicked out because he was laughing so hard. I can’t even begin to pick a favorite line or part because whenever I start, I just end up reciting the whole darn film. “I just like to smile, smiling’s my favorite”

And last but definitely not least is .

Just call me the female Clark Griswold. We both share a love of Christmas to the point where we almost expect too much from it. Oh, and we have this unhealthy need to decorate and light up every single inch of our home.

Now on to the 12 Christmas movie recommendations from my fellow bloggers…

Raine Thomas

My family and I decorate our Christmas tree every year while watching It’s a Wonderful Life.  The message behind the movie is so timeless and important.  If I had to pick a favorite classic Christmas movie, this would definitely be it! My favorite scene is the phone scene where George and Mary see each other again when she returns home from college. The tension in the scene is palpable! The viewer is rooting for Mary to win George over, and just when he starts to stalk away, the phone rings. And then there are those magical words, issued in a whisper, that break through George’s defenses: “He says it’s the chance of lifetime.” Click on Raine’s name to see her 12 Christmas Songs and be sure to read her .

DC McMillen

I have always had a love/hate relationship with Christmas. Part of me gets caught up in all of the lights and cookies while the other part wants to shove tinsel down the throat of non-spiked eggnog pushers in tacky sweaters. It is for this reason that I have decided Bad(der) Santa is my favourite holiday movie. This is the vilest anti-Christmas Christmas movie and I feel actual guilt for loving it so much. But if you are like me in that you consider your holiday a true success only if you managed to maintain a light alcohol induced buzz from December 24^th right through to January 2^nd, then Bad(der) is the movie for you, too. After all, shit happens when you party naked. Hop on over to DC’s blog to read the 12 Alcoholic Drinks and remember to check out her latest,  available now!

Amberr Meadows

The best Christmas movie ever is The Nightmare Before Christmas. Call us strange or morbid, but it is one of the least cheesy Christmas movie alternatives, and we have a fondness for all things Tim Burton, anyway. Plus, I love the soundtrack and used to play it during playtime when my daughter was little, and now we have both memorized most of the words of each song. We have the regular traditions, of course, but there is one night during the holidays set aside for popcorn and The Night Before Christmas. I’ve watched it every year since I was 16, and the holidays wouldn’t be complete without it. Merry Christmas, everyone! Join Amberr on her blog for the 12 Tasty Traditions!

Erica Lucke Dean

My “must see” Christmas movie is Die Hard. I mean, what could be more festive than watching John McClane save Nakatomi plaza on Christmas Eve? Yippee-ki-yay, motherf*cker! Be sure to check out Erica’s blog for our 12 Christmas Memories and get ready for March 2013 when her book, To Katie With Love comes out!

Ciara Ballintyne

I don’t watch a lot of Christmas movies so I turned to the Christmas guru in my family for this one. Yes, my Mum. When I asked her why this is her favourite the conversation went like this:

Mum: Because it’s funny.

Me: Is that all?

Mum: And I like Tim Allen

Me: That’s short. I need this for a blog. Can you make it longer?

Mum: Tim Allen is spunky. And I like the Rose Suchak Ladder Co. And Santa Claus got pushed.

Dad: Santa wasn’t pushed

Mum: Am I being interviewed?

What can I say? My Mum was a real Home Improvement fan owing to the fact there are plenty of opportunities to laugh at someone else in pain (something she doesn’t reserve solely for TV). I’d guess that’s why she liked Santa Claus getting pushed (er…falling?) off the roof. Be sure to click on Ciara’s name and check out our 12 Christmas Decorations and look for her story in .

Natalie Kenney

Home for the Holidays is what my life is like from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Okay, so Robert Downey Jr. isn’t my brother. And I don’t live in Chicago. Or have a teenage daughter who’s trying to lose her virginity. But the dysfunctional family antics and ridiculous events that befall the main character? That’s completely my life. If you haven’t seen the movie, maybe this will convince you it’s worth the watch. Happy Holidays! And remember to keep a camera around for when the turkey falls in someone’s lap. Natalie is hosting the 12 Yummy Cookies on her blog!

Melody-Ann Kaufmann

The Year Without a Santa Claus is easily my favorite Christmas movie.  When I was a kid I loved the idea that all of us kids could be kind enough to give poor over worked Santa Claus a holiday.  As an adult I have to admit I still watch it - I love the way it presents the concept of not taking things for granted in such a perfectly fun yet clear way.  Also, Snow miser & Heat miser are ridiculously cute siblings.  Personally, I like Snow miser best – just so you know Click on Melody-Ann’s name to see our 12 Christmas Toys!

Justin Bogdanovitch

Karen: Conrad. Let’s have a great Christmas. Let’s have… a great year. Let’s have the best year of our whole lives. We can, you know… this could be the best one ever.

Robert Redford’s Best Picture Oscar film, Ordinary People, was based on Judith Guest’s family drama and Redford said he wanted to direct it because the story’s family reminded him of his own in the way it talked around issues. The holidays are very much that way for so many people. There is hope too. Mary Tyler Moore played the ultimate unemotional, nervy, and distraught center of her family; she stole the movie whenever her character entered the frame. Timothy Hutton also won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his portrayal of the one son who survives a tragic boating accident. Justin is hosting the 12 Christmas Faux Pas on his blog and don’t forget to check out Justin’s book 

Kelly Stone Gamble

This Christmas is the story of a family whose eldest son comes home unexpectedly for the first time in several years.  Not for young kids, it’s funny, yet has several very serious and adult subtexts in play. It features and all star cast and the music is amazing, with songs by Aaron Neville, Chris Brown, Jordin Sparks and Luther Vandross, just to name a few.  My favorite line: “Santa ate all Kelly’s cookies….” Kelly is featuring the 12 Books of Christmas on her blog. Click on her name to see our suggestions.

Marie Patchen

Who doesn’t love the classic Dickens story, A Christmas Carol?  It is one of those timeless pieces that we all know and love by heart, and has been done and redone many times over the years, both on the big screen and on television.  In 2009, Walt Disney Studios put a new twist on this enduring tale by giving us A Christmas Carol in 3D, starring Jim Carrey as Ebenezer Scrooge.  It was, by far, the creepiest version of A Christmas Carol I’ve ever seen, and I’ve yet to figure out if it was the fact that it was in 3D, or it was the fact that it was a dark, twisted ride through the haunting night that Scrooge experienced.  I think it was a little bit of both.  In any case, I wouldn’t have wanted to be Scrooge, and this movie still gives me nightmares, thanks to the creepy candle ghost in this very scene.Marie posts our 12 Classic Christmas Cartoons on her blog.

Maureen Hovermale

The Shop Around the Corner (1940) isn’t on very many people’s Christmas movies list, but it should be, the ending coming to a very romantic Christmas climax.

Watching this movie, it may remind you of You’ve Got Mail. It should because this is the movie that the Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks version used to create their own blockbuster. Even in all the bed-head glory of the modern version, it doesn’t quite measure up to the chemistry of Margaret Sullaven and Jimmy Stewart.

Two coworkers who can’t stand each other in Budapest; both unaware that they correspond regularly under anonymous conditions to post office box 237: Classic!Click on Maureen’s name to see what we’re wearing in her 12 Articles of Clothing in a Christmas Clauset.

That’s right, people, my pick is White Christmas. I can not go a Christmas holiday without watching this movie at least a dozen times. I picked the song White Christmas as my favorite holiday song over on Raine’s blog so if you’ve been there this shouldn’t be a surprise. A couple of years ago a nearby theatre used to play this movie for free right after Thanksgiving. I can’t describe how cool it was to see this classic on the big screen and Crosby’s velvet voice gave me the chills… but in a good way; man, can he sing. It’s always my wish to have a white Christmas, even if the weatherman is predicting temps in the 60′s.

So, there ya have it friends, our recommendations for holiday movies. So grab your favorite person, a bucket of popcorn and snuggle under the blankets and have your own movie fest!

Also, before I leave you, many of you know I went through some trying times this year. I would like to take a moment to thank all the hospital personel, doctors, nurses, therapists, friends and family who have helped me pull through with flying colors. I owe this Christmas to you all.

If you would like to learn more about what happened CLICK HERE and read my story on the Orange Karen Anthology Blog.

Enjoy and I wish everyone a happy, healthy and snowy holiday season!!! Slainte!

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

It started like any other Saturday. Eric was rushing around trying to get the kids ready and I was being lazy not wanting to get out of bed. Until, that is, I realized what was happening this Saturday. That evening was our oldest daughter’s very first dance recital. I was beyond excited. If you know me you know I love theater, the arts, entertaining. The thought of my daughter following in my footsteps just makes me want to push her out of the spotlight and take her place. Just kidding.

My little ballerina so excited to take the stage.

As the day went on I started to feel tired, run down. I brushed it off thinking it was just the normal mom feeling of having to do everything in a short amount of time. I remember swaying back and forth as I tried to perfect her braid and scolding myself for doing a half-assed job.

When we got to the recital I started to shake with cold sweats. Taking shallow breaths and hoping not to pass out in the wings, I watched my little ballerina hit every move. After her second dance I couldn’t stand any more and opted to go home to bed. After tossing and turning that night and the following day with a high fever, Eric took me to the ER Sunday night. The night nurses took my blood, found nothing out of the ordinary, gave me fluids and sent me on my way, diagnosing it as a viral infection.

Under this advisement I went home and spent all of Monday in bed as severe pain ravaged my body, especially in my neck, shoulder, and abdomen. By Tuesday morning I was vomiting and too weak to even stand. Eric and I actually discussed not going to the hospital because of cost but I soon felt too sick to care and insisted we go. We later learned that had I not gone to the ER that Tuesday morning I would have died Tuesday night.

The total time from onset to fatality, four days.

I spent all day in the ER and after test after test with no answer as to what my ailment was I was admitted into the ICU that night. The last thing I remember was turning to the doctor, pointing to Eric and telling her to make sure he ate something. Another doctor looked down at me and said, “Lie back, we need to intubate you.”

When Eric left that night I was just intubated, when he walked into the room the next morning I was hooked up to 13 different machines. My body went into shock and they couldn’t figure out why. Just overnight I lost blood flow to my hands and feet; the toxins then pooled where there was decreased blood causing an intense rash which then turned to blisters which popped open and left open wounds. Disgusting, angry, limb losing wounds.

I lost my left thumb almost immediately. The infection was causing my body to throw out random clots. I was also placed on four machines that are designed to pull your blood to your core. The machines saved my heart, and my life, but they doomed my hands and feet. My family watched as my extremities turned black knowing there was nothing they could do to stop it.

At one point I had 19 extra liters of fluid in my body. Think of a 2 liter bottle of soda. That’s a lot of soda.

The doctors were stumped, they had no idea what was causing my sickness. I was dubbed the sickest person in the hospital by the Dean of Medicine. I’m still waiting for my plaque.

My heart was only pumping at 25 to 30% and there was concern that my body wouldn’t be able to handle the severe attack of the infection. However, thanks to the sheer determination of the many doctors and nurses on my case, a day and a half after they started antibiotics I started to turn around. At this point I was placed on hypnotics which allowed me to respond to the doctors but I would have no recollection of the events.

I woke up 10 days later to my husband and brother looking down on me with big goofy grins on their faces. Two days later we had a cause. A culture finally came back with toxic shock antibodies. My infection had a name, and it was Toxic Shock due to strep. Yep, your everyday strep got into my blood and there you have it. It’s cause is still unknown. It was NOT caused by tampons, or the mud run I had just raced in, or anything like that. Somehow strep got into my blood and tried it’s damnedest to kill me.

We were told that 8 out of 10 don’t survive what I went through. My doctors attribute my survival to three main reasons:

1. My age. I went through all of this, which includes mastering the bedpan, just a few short weeks of my 30th birthday.

2. My strength. Before my illness I was working out five days a week, sometimes twice a day. I would have loved to have been awake when the doctor told my mom, who used to criticize my workout schedule, that my physical strength was one of the reasons I survived.

3. I’m stubborn. My body basically refused to quit. They had me on enough narcotics and medicine to down a 300 pound man for a week, and yet I was struggling with nurses to remove my own tube, even tried to punch one who went to stop me. I struggled to let them know that I was still inside, that I was still fighting.

During that week and a half in the ICU I was placed on a dialysis machine, had several blood transfusions and more than one central line put in to administer medicines. The last one I had went straight into my neck and into a main vein; it was put into place right before I woke up. I kinda miss that one. They’d put in pain meds and before they were down pushing it all in, I would be out. Until the one nurse left the syringe in my neck and I didn’t realize it.

“Karen…” Eric asked me ever so cautiously, “is that a syringe hanging out of the side of your neck?”

I brought my hand up and lightly touched around what they called the IJ (inter-jugular) pick.

“Why, yes, yes it is.” And I went back to reading.

He spent the rest of the afternoon calling me “Frankenwife”.

After a month in the hospital and physical rehab facility I was released to go home on July 4th; a day that is now my own little Independence Day. I thought I was in the home stretch, but my recovery was only beginning.

When the podiatrist first saw me he said the worst case scenario was double amputation up to my knees. No one should ever have to hear those words. I never felt so helpless in my life. I just kept thinking about my two little girls at home; how I could never dance or run with them again. He recommended a hyperbaric chamber to help circulation in my feet to aid in the healing. For 55 days I spent two hours breathing pure oxygen at twice the atmospheric pressure. I laid in that gigantic glass tube, completely closed off from the rest of the world watching “Frasier” reruns on Lifetime. It could have been worse.

My home for two hours for 55 days. Should have been 60 but my thumb surgery was on my would be 56th day.

I only had 2 panic attacks in the chamber. One was when my stretcher was too high and my forehead almost touched the top. The second one was when they were fixing the air conditioner on the floor and I felt like I was lying in an oven. Other than that I welcomed the quiet and relaxed.

My afternoons were spent at various doctors, cardiologists, hand therapists, and surgeons.

With every appointment I continued to defy the odds. They told me that it would take at least six months for my heart to recover. By the end of July it was already back to normal. When August rolled around it looked like my feet were going to be saved, minus a pinkie toe.

My thumb was still the only question mark.

The first hand surgeon wanted to amputate it, sew my new stub of a thumb to my groin and grow a new thumb from there. Yeah. Let me just walk around with my hand down my pants for six weeks. I’m sure no one would notice.

But thanks to a second opinion I am now working with a brilliant micro surgeon out of the University of Penn. I am currently undergoing a series of surgeries to reconstruct my thumb using tissue from my arm.

Look ma! Two thumbs!

I don’t remember anything from those 10 days in which I fought for my life. A part of me wants to but looking at the sadness in my family’s eyes when they recall that time I’m guessing it’s for the better that I don’t. What I do remember is waking up to two whole walls of the ICU room covered in get well cards. Nurses and doctors would randomly come in, hug me, kiss my forehead and thank God I pulled through. My social media sites, Twitter feed, Facebook wall, were filled with seemingly endless posts of prayers, well wishes and notes of people wanting to help.

I have never been so overwhelmed in all of my life.

I’ve learned a lot this past year, patience, humility but most of all what friendship and love really means. I’ve learned to be thankful for the smallest things and I’ve gotten pretty good at finding the silver lining in darker moments.

I learned to laugh at myself.

Everyone who looks at my hands and my troubled gait say they’re so sorry that this happened to me. But please, don’t feel sorry for me; never feel sorry for me.

I’m alive, and I’m in control of my recovery.

But I am sorry. I am sorry for my parents. They had to watch their only daughter’s hands and feet turn black before their eyes, knowing there was nothing they could do to stop it. I’m sorry for my husband who called up his parents to tell them to come say goodbye to me and how he had to figure out what to say to two little girls about their mommy who went to the hospital and didn’t come back.

But I’m most sorry for my two little girls who knew nothing of what was going on and just wanted their mommy to hold them. That’s who you should be sorry for, for my loved ones who had to watch me fight this and could do nothing to help.

However, that is all in the past. So instead of feeling sorry, I try to remember to celebrate. I’m here for birthday parties, holidays, smelling honeysuckle waft through the air on a cool June night. And yes, I’m even excited to be here to potty train our soon to be three year old.

Life is truly a blessed and beautiful thing. I have many reminders by way of scars, pain, and overall way of life that reminds what I went through to ensure that I have a life to live. Whenever pettiness and pride creeps in to ruin my day I just have to look down to my hands or feet to remember how precious life is and what really matters.

I urge you to stop and take some time to yourself and be thankful for all that you have because within four days it could all be gone.

*I want to quickly give thanks to everyone who has worked on this site, submitted posts, submitted stories for the anthology, and is currently working on putting everything together. Another big hug and thanks to all my friends and family who have rallied behind us during this trying time. To my doctors, nurses, therapists, pharmacies, and hospital staff, thank you for your dedication to help others. And last, but not least, my husband, Eric. Yours was the last face I saw before I went out and the first one I saw when I woke up. I want to keep it that way.

** I’ve posted a photo journal of my injuries over this summer. Feel free to check it out by clicking HERE. But please, it is not for the faint of heart. My toes and fingers were gangrenous and not the prettiest.

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

Did I mention she’s five? Yeah. Read her birthday cards on her second birthday. She can read. Which brings us back to my problem.

Have you ever had that guy on the bus or the train, or God-forbid a spouse, that reads over your shoulder? Doesn’t it drive you insane? Now imagine someone doing that while you’re writing something. Once she corrected my spelling mistake when I made a typo. I kicked her out of the office and locked the door.

Do you know what my favourite thing with in 6 feet is? Well, actually it’s my daughter because she’s sitting beside me, but if she wasn’t, it would be the lock on the door. It’s my special “writer-in-residence” sign. Keep on walking, I’m working in here.

My husband is actually the one that uses it the most. He’ll hear me chatting with her when I’m supposed to be writing, usually sounding rather exasperated as my daughter continues to needle me with questions and requests. Then he comes in, suggests she come out and watch TV, play on her computer, play a game with him, etc. And when she goes, he reaches around and turns that little switch that makes me smile and say, “Thank you.”

My daughter has been stretching her bedtime further and further. When I started writing, she went to bed at eight. That gave me a glorious 2.5 hours for writing! Now she gets her pyjamas on at 8. Then its snack requests and kicking around for another thirty minutes and bed at 8:30, no I need to go pee, 8:45, no, I need a drink of water, 9:00, will you tuck me in? So my writing time keeps shrinking.

This is the place where I tell you that have the most awesome boss in the world. When she hired me she only wanted someone part-time. I really wanted a job in my town and in my field, so I hashed it with the hubs and we figure, sure, I can work part time and do errands, cleaning, cooking, etc. on those days off. There were only two of them. It was agreed that if money became a problem, I could pick up another part-time job. Well, it’s happened. I have a second job, writing. Not only is my boss totally on board with this, she’s down with me taking a day off here and there where I need it for things like conventions and signings. She is awesome! Part of the reason she’s coming over tomorrow to play MahJong. We don’t have a typical boss/employee relationship.

Okay, I think I’ve meandered enough. Bottom line, my daughter isn’t allowed to read over my shoulder. I wish I could disallow her from the office entirely, but that’s not going to happen. One day, she’s going to be a writer. She already tells the greatest stories in the world, like “I’m going to sleep in my own bed all night” and “I’m going to bed right now!” Uh-huh. Sure you are.

Angelica Dawson has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards — mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires. 

Be sure to pick up your copy of Blue Moon House at these following sellers, , and Smashwords. You can find Angelica at her website or follow her on Twitter. 

Julia has the opportunity to become one of the Vampire Dominants of Blue Moon House. Before they accept, however, the seven vampires must all gauge her worthiness as an eternal companion. Each will test her, sample her, and decide her fate.

Hey friends! Welcome back to the pub! Today I’m very happy to introduce you to Angelica Dawson, author of the erotica novella,

KD: Can you tell us a little bit about Blue Moon House?

AD: Sure! Blue Moon House is the story of one human who has so impressed her vampire Master that he wants to keep her forever. However, there are six other vampires living in the house who would also be spending eternity with Julia. They all want a chance to decide if she is someone they find worthy as a companion.

KD: What is your inspiration behind the novella?

AD: At first, the idea was simply to have a BDSM free-for-all. I wanted to hit everything. The vampires came in early as the Doms that could real put a sub through his/her paces. However, as I began to pit Julia against them, I got to know each of them, just as she did, and found they had a lot of character.

KD: What drew you to the erotica genre? Have you always written erotica?

AD: I started back into writing with Fanfiction. My first pieces were pretty PG, but I quickly dove off the adult deep end. I do publish under my real name as well, but those are YA and literary fiction. My YA ranges from SciFi/Fantasy to Paranormal to Horror. I am a big fan of YA books (like the Hunger Games, Divergent, everything by Tamora Pierce) so that was where I went first with my writing.

KD: What is your biggest obstacle as an erotica writer?

AD: My five year old daughter! She is a voracious reader and although she might not know what all the words on my screen mean, she can sound them out. So, I have to make sure she’s out of the room or asleep, preferably asleep. I try to spend time with her and my husband while she’s awake.

KD: This first installment was a novella at just 20,000 words. Why did you chose this format instead of a full length novel? 

AD: I did. I had a story I wanted to tell and at the end of 20 000 words, I had told it. I tend to write shorter form and especially for this story, where the plot really only covers a few days, it made sense for it to be shorter. Also, in general, erotica thrives in the shorter form. You can really overload if you try to stretch it too far.

KD: If you could meet any writer living or dead who would it be and why?

AD: Tamora Pierce, so I can apologize for making her feel old when I told her I read her books in high school. Ha! She had a signing her in town and that’s exactly what I said. It’s true, but well, I didn’t mean to make her feel bad! Also to let her know that she inspired me to publish my first novel.

KD: You’ve just won a trip to a secluded island and you’re instructed to bring your favorite book, drink, and companion. What/who would you bring? 

AD: Only one book? Not a series? Damn. I’d be tempted to bring a notebook. LOL Let’s go with the Mists of Avalon, because I’d probably be rescued by the time I finished it and it has lots of pages for kindling fires. (I didn’t just say that.) My favourite drink would be pineapple juice. Unless there are pineapples on the island. And naturally, some rum to add to it. My companion would have to be my husband. He’s been my best friend for over a decade and he’s good at inventing games so when Mists got boring I’d have something to do.

KD: I hear that you’re writing a prequel series focusing on each of Blue Moon House vampires, is this true? *Crosses fingers*

AD: It is true. I’m still working on the first one, Jocelyn’s story, but I have all seven outlined in one form or another.

Thanks so much for stopping by and giving some insight into your novella and you! Friends check back tomorrow for Angelica’s post on what it’s like to be an erotica writer and a mom. 

Angelica Dawson has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards — mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires. 

Be sure to pick up your copy of Blue Moon House at these following sellers, , and Smashwords. You can find Angelica at her website or follow her on Twitter. 

Julia has the opportunity to become one of the Vampire Dominants of Blue Moon House. Before they accept, however, the seven vampires must all gauge her worthiness as an eternal companion. Each will test her, sample her, and decide her fate.

Cheers!

Since my typing abilities are severely lacking right now I made a quick video to thank everyone and to give a short overview as to what happened in the beginning of June.

I apologize for my emotions getting the better of me but I still struggle with the reality of it all. Also, because of my emotions, I forgot to mention some things, one most importantly are the nurses, especially in the ICU. I complimented my doctors but the nurses deserve the same amount of praise. The nurses at the hospital and rehab center were with me through some of my hardest times and will always have a special place in my heart.

So here it is, my thank you card to you all. I truly believe that it was with the help of your prayers and healing thoughts that kept me here. Well, that and I’m just to stubborn to die.

Enjoy! And keep an eye out for when I start my blog series about my story. Thanks, again!

(Oh, and PS – No, that is not a nicotine patch, it is a Fentanyl (pain med) patch. I can’t tell you how many people congratulate me and ask how long it’s been. When one woman found out what it was she asked if I wouldn’t mind trading patches. Um, yeah, I would mind! For some reason I don’t think smoking, or a nicotine patch, would take the edge off considering I still need other pain pills to manage the pain.)

That is until the deal of a lifetime brings everything back. Not knowing who to trust, Micaela is left to turn to the one thing she denied herself all these years, her visions.

Smith’s writing is spot on. Her characters are well thought out and developed and she reveals just enough about the players without giving too much of the story away. At first there does seem to be an influx of characters in the beginning of the story but Smith handles the character development well, quickly fleshing out a spot for each of the main characters in the reader’s head. I quickly came to understand and feel for Micaela as she fought for clarity and safety as her visions returned and her world was threatened by an unknown villain.

I would have liked to know more about her parents. They seem to have been highly respected and regarded in her grandmother’s Druid community, but the details about the explosion and how Micaela survived it (and what that meant) were few. It’s mentioned a few times in regards to her gift and legacy but never exactly what happened or why she survived.

I appreciated the different layers of story telling Smith infused into her work. Suspense, action, magic, mystery, all with a dash of romance, created an extremely well written story about a woman discovering her true path in life. Smith’s voice is strong and seasoned and I highly recommend this book to anyone who is interested in the urban fantasy genre.

The Tofa don’t communicate through words, their faces are featureless so reading their expressions is out of the question and they emit odd smells at seemingly random times. Due to miscommunications and confusion, tensions between the two groups have been growing and the council is desperate for any sort of intervention. Scientist Mara Cadell, who has an obsession with twins after learning she lost a twin brother in utero, thinks she has the answer.  Her plan is to implant one human embryo and one alien embryo into host mothers. With the hope of using the scientific fact that twins have special ways of communicating between each other, Mara sets out to create special sets of twins specifically designed to bridge the gap between the two species.

Unfortunately, no matter how carefully engineered the experiment was, Mara couldn’t control certain important elements such as human ignorance and prejudices. As outside influences try to destroy the work she has dedicated her life to she starts to question the morality of her actions while trying to push through to achieve their one true goal of unification.

I have to say that Twin Bred is more science than I’m used to but Wyle handled the explanations, details and intricacies of the plot dealing with breeding people and aliens together quite well. Details concerning the sociological and psychological consequences of inseminating women with both human and alien embryos as well as the effects on the children themselves were carefully handled within the story. Wyle’s writing was meticulous in order to help even non sci-fi readers, such as myself, understand the specifics of the experiments without having it go over her reader’s heads.

The relationship between Mara and Levi was an interesting twist to the story and I think it really kicked up the psychological aspect of the story. I actually wish there was more time dedicated to their relationship. Wyle infused the story with a number of different characters to give a fuller and more detailed look at all the players involved in the experiment, (the scientists, the neighboring Tofa, the government officials, the twin bred, the host mothers, civilians) however at times it became too many points of view. By reading up on everyone’s stance on what was going on around them some of the characters who started out strong, like Laura, a host mother, lost steam as the story progressed.

However, with that said I found Mara to be a well developed and strong character. I loved how Levi was her voice of reason and the moments at the end of the novel involving her, Levi and the Tofa were tenderly moving.

Using science, psychology, and good intentions Wyle put together an interesting, thought-provoking read that any science fiction fan will love.