Hey, anyone who doesn't already know, this entire week is a party with Lucy Monroe, with lots of great prizes and wonderful discussion going on, so drop in to her blog and join the party!!
http://lucymonroeblog.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
A new Media-based novella
MY IMMORTAL BELOVED
Genre: Media-based Historical/Victorian erotic romance
Publisher: Alchemy Ink (www.cyphrevoudou.com)
Cover by: Barbara Fister-Liltz
Tentative release date: Autumn 2006
For fans of the movie The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. This is a short novel based on the character of Dorian Gray, as he was portrayed by Stuart Townsend.
Dorian Gray is immortal, powerful, bored, and lonely. When he receives an invitation to yet another of London’s fashionable balls, the last thing he expects to find is a woman who will change his existence and fill his endless days with passion and happiness. In young Venetia Tremaine, the ageless Gray finds a spirit as bright and uncompromising as time itself. She adores him, and is unafraid of the scandal that is stirred when he asks her to become his mistress. A role she revels in as wantonly as she does his sexuality.
But, as life often unfolds, happiness is a fleeting thing, and Dorian’s long past is a hard thing to outrun. It is only after his death that Dorian will come to know just how deeply loved and cherished his cynical soul truly is, when Venetia implores a practitioner of the Dark Arts to return her immortal lover to her….
Read an excerpt:
“Your parents don’t seem at all pleased, Miss Tremaine.”
Venetia felt the caress of his voice so acutely he might have actually touched her skin with his words.
“My parents are seldom pleased with much that I do, Mr. Gray,” she answered when he stopped at her side and looked out over the vast gardens of the estate house. Lamps had been lit and placed all over the property; from their vantage point on the second level balcony, it looked as though a hundred stars were hovering just above the ground. “I’m afraid that’s why I was shipped off to Paris for several years. They hoped the Holy Sisters could instill a greater sense of propriety into my wicked heart.”
Dorian’s smile was brighter than the sun, and warmed her in a much more intimate way, she was forced to admit.
“And were they successful, Miss Tremaine?”
“Venetia, please,” she requested as she turned to face him fully. She was captivated anew the instant their eyes met, and every part of her instinctively attuned itself to his presence. She had met Dorian Gray on several occasions when she was little more than a girl. He had never struck her as being anything more than a handsome rogue who was far too certain of his appeal. As a woman, she was growing more certain his arrogance was not misplaced in the slightest. Every unmarried woman in attendance tonight had sought his company at one time or another. Even some of the married ladies had been unable to resist his charm, despite the ire of their husbands.
“What are you thinking about, Miss… Venetia?” Dorian asked, his voice pitched to a smooth, sensual cadence.
“Honestly, or a polite answer, Mr… Dorian?” she amended softly when he smiled.
“Honestly, please,” he remarked, tone casual and inquisitive. “Polite society makes me feel rather ill after a time.”
Venetia laughed, her pleasure genuine. He straightened and their eyes were mere inches apart when she spoke again, her words a whisper of air between them. “I was simply wondering if there was a woman here who does not wish to be your lover tonight, Dorian Gray.”
“Bold words, indeed, darling,” he whispered.
“Are you surprised?”
“Delighted,” he corrected. “And what of you, my beautiful Venetia. Do you wish to join me in my bed tonight?”
She felt faint, and the restrictions of her corsets were suddenly stealing both reason and breath from her body. Deep within her, she felt a longing so profound it was almost pain. Dorian’s smiling mouth filled her vision, and she knew he was aware of the effect of his presence and his words. It didn’t matter, the outrage she’d have felt had he been any other man could not rise past the truth they both recognized. The curve of his lips fascinated her. The soft, fine dark hair of his goatee and moustache dared her to touch him as she wanted to. And the perfect fine angles of his face led her inexorably upward until she was trapped in the chasm of his eyes.
“Tell me what you’re thinking?”
There was a hint of wine and smoke in the flutter of air that touched her with his query.
“Why?”
“You fascinate me.”
“Why?”
“Innocence is seldom found coupled with utter honesty.”
“My tongue wants to taste your lips, Dorian Gray,” she confessed in a voice that was barely audible, wouldn’t have been had he been further away from her. “And my fingertips are tingling with the desire to know if beneath your fine suit and silk waistcoat is skin that is even finer to the touch.”
He took a step closer, so they were almost embracing.
“Tell me more.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I am baring my soul to a man who is laughing at me,” she stated. “I’ve never before said things like this. Yet even mocking me as you are so obviously doing, Mr. Gray, I find myself compelled to indulge these wanton thoughts of you.”
“I am not mocking you, darling,” Dorian assured her. His fingers came to rest on the side of her face, learning the curve of her cheekbone with a feather-like caress before moving to the back of her neck to draw her forward. “Quite the contrary.” His words dissolved into a soft murmur of pleasure as he bent his head toward her.
As she lost contact with his mesmerizing eyes, Venetia gasped and the sound was captured by his mouth as it covered hers in a kiss so tantalizingly slow and lingering she was certain they were now the only two people in existence. She tasted the wine he’d been sipping earlier, and the hint of cigar smoke, but more subtle and intoxicating was the man himself. His tongue slipped between her parted lips and coaxed her to imitate the erotic dance of exploration in which he was engaged. She sucked his tongue deeper into her mouth and moaned softly when his arms pulled her into full contact with his body as the pressure of his kiss intensified.
Sensation exploded through her like a wildfire, and the swirl of heat and excitement threatened to consume her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned closer, pressing her hips into his, allowing her body to obey the desire to be as close to him as possible.
“And what do you want, Mr. Dorian Gray?” She posed the query as he finally left her lips and continued a wet, open-mouthed trek down the side of her neck. As his tongue stroked the frantic pulse there, his hands rested at her waist, brushing the smooth satin of her gown.
“I want you naked in my arms, Venetia Tremaine,” he breathed as he kissed her forehead. “I want to do things to you that have you crying my name like a prayer. Things that no other man will ever do to you, darling.” He smiled down at her, and she laughed quietly.
“You’re very certain of your prowess, Mr. Gray.”
Dorian’s laughter was genuine for the first time in a very long time.
“Venetia!”
The spell of seduction shattered with the strident outcry of Lady Tremaine as she arrived on the terrace and found them.
“I do apologize for my daughter’s shameless behaviour, Mr. Gray. Do forgive her lack of manners, please.”
Dorian’s eyes glittered with amusement when he let his gaze linger a moment longer on Venetia. “I would forgive your daughter any breach of manners, Lady,” he assured the distraught mother. “Her charm far surpasses any minor lapse in propriety. And,” he turned the full force of his disarming smile on the older woman, “any indiscretion was entirely my fault.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Gray,” Venetia interjected. “Mother, I’m not feeling at all well. I think I’ll retire for the night.”
“In the middle of a ball given in your honour!” The piercing quality had returned to her voice and Venetia frowned at the censure. “Have you no sense of proper behaviour, my dear?”
“I am hardly likely to charm a potential husband if I can hardly stand up due to fatigue, Mother.”
Dorian hid a smile behind his hand, and turned to look out over the gardens.
“Perhaps a walk in the garden would revive your spirits, Miss Tremaine?” He made the suggestion in a tone meant to appeal to her mother, who watched them with overt suspicion. “Lady Tremaine, with your permission…”
The challenge was there between them, though only Dorian and Venetia knew it was in fact a challenge to the woman’s position and authority. Genevieve Tremaine was not only outwitted, she was severely disadvantaged by Dorian’s outwardly innocuous appearance of decorum.
“Of course,” Genevieve nodded, still visibly unsure of the proposition. “I’ll expect to see you inside very shortly, Venetia.”
“Of course,” Venetia nodded, her entire mien demure and compliant.
Lady Tremaine hovered for a moment longer, then turned and went back inside to her guests.
“You are a very wicked man, Dorian Gray,” she noted with a small laugh.
“Thoroughly irredeemable, I’m afraid,” he agreed. “Now, would you really rejoin this rather tedious ball when I’m offering you an escape?”
“An escape,” Venetia repeated, tone thoughtful. “An interesting proposition.”
“I have a much more interesting proposition in mind,” he told her, walking half a step behind her so that he had to lean close to speak the words next to her ear…
Genre: Media-based Historical/Victorian erotic romance
Publisher: Alchemy Ink (www.cyphrevoudou.com)
Cover by: Barbara Fister-Liltz
Tentative release date: Autumn 2006
For fans of the movie The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. This is a short novel based on the character of Dorian Gray, as he was portrayed by Stuart Townsend.
Dorian Gray is immortal, powerful, bored, and lonely. When he receives an invitation to yet another of London’s fashionable balls, the last thing he expects to find is a woman who will change his existence and fill his endless days with passion and happiness. In young Venetia Tremaine, the ageless Gray finds a spirit as bright and uncompromising as time itself. She adores him, and is unafraid of the scandal that is stirred when he asks her to become his mistress. A role she revels in as wantonly as she does his sexuality.
But, as life often unfolds, happiness is a fleeting thing, and Dorian’s long past is a hard thing to outrun. It is only after his death that Dorian will come to know just how deeply loved and cherished his cynical soul truly is, when Venetia implores a practitioner of the Dark Arts to return her immortal lover to her….
Read an excerpt:
“Your parents don’t seem at all pleased, Miss Tremaine.”
Venetia felt the caress of his voice so acutely he might have actually touched her skin with his words.
“My parents are seldom pleased with much that I do, Mr. Gray,” she answered when he stopped at her side and looked out over the vast gardens of the estate house. Lamps had been lit and placed all over the property; from their vantage point on the second level balcony, it looked as though a hundred stars were hovering just above the ground. “I’m afraid that’s why I was shipped off to Paris for several years. They hoped the Holy Sisters could instill a greater sense of propriety into my wicked heart.”
Dorian’s smile was brighter than the sun, and warmed her in a much more intimate way, she was forced to admit.
“And were they successful, Miss Tremaine?”
“Venetia, please,” she requested as she turned to face him fully. She was captivated anew the instant their eyes met, and every part of her instinctively attuned itself to his presence. She had met Dorian Gray on several occasions when she was little more than a girl. He had never struck her as being anything more than a handsome rogue who was far too certain of his appeal. As a woman, she was growing more certain his arrogance was not misplaced in the slightest. Every unmarried woman in attendance tonight had sought his company at one time or another. Even some of the married ladies had been unable to resist his charm, despite the ire of their husbands.
“What are you thinking about, Miss… Venetia?” Dorian asked, his voice pitched to a smooth, sensual cadence.
“Honestly, or a polite answer, Mr… Dorian?” she amended softly when he smiled.
“Honestly, please,” he remarked, tone casual and inquisitive. “Polite society makes me feel rather ill after a time.”
Venetia laughed, her pleasure genuine. He straightened and their eyes were mere inches apart when she spoke again, her words a whisper of air between them. “I was simply wondering if there was a woman here who does not wish to be your lover tonight, Dorian Gray.”
“Bold words, indeed, darling,” he whispered.
“Are you surprised?”
“Delighted,” he corrected. “And what of you, my beautiful Venetia. Do you wish to join me in my bed tonight?”
She felt faint, and the restrictions of her corsets were suddenly stealing both reason and breath from her body. Deep within her, she felt a longing so profound it was almost pain. Dorian’s smiling mouth filled her vision, and she knew he was aware of the effect of his presence and his words. It didn’t matter, the outrage she’d have felt had he been any other man could not rise past the truth they both recognized. The curve of his lips fascinated her. The soft, fine dark hair of his goatee and moustache dared her to touch him as she wanted to. And the perfect fine angles of his face led her inexorably upward until she was trapped in the chasm of his eyes.
“Tell me what you’re thinking?”
There was a hint of wine and smoke in the flutter of air that touched her with his query.
“Why?”
“You fascinate me.”
“Why?”
“Innocence is seldom found coupled with utter honesty.”
“My tongue wants to taste your lips, Dorian Gray,” she confessed in a voice that was barely audible, wouldn’t have been had he been further away from her. “And my fingertips are tingling with the desire to know if beneath your fine suit and silk waistcoat is skin that is even finer to the touch.”
He took a step closer, so they were almost embracing.
“Tell me more.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I am baring my soul to a man who is laughing at me,” she stated. “I’ve never before said things like this. Yet even mocking me as you are so obviously doing, Mr. Gray, I find myself compelled to indulge these wanton thoughts of you.”
“I am not mocking you, darling,” Dorian assured her. His fingers came to rest on the side of her face, learning the curve of her cheekbone with a feather-like caress before moving to the back of her neck to draw her forward. “Quite the contrary.” His words dissolved into a soft murmur of pleasure as he bent his head toward her.
As she lost contact with his mesmerizing eyes, Venetia gasped and the sound was captured by his mouth as it covered hers in a kiss so tantalizingly slow and lingering she was certain they were now the only two people in existence. She tasted the wine he’d been sipping earlier, and the hint of cigar smoke, but more subtle and intoxicating was the man himself. His tongue slipped between her parted lips and coaxed her to imitate the erotic dance of exploration in which he was engaged. She sucked his tongue deeper into her mouth and moaned softly when his arms pulled her into full contact with his body as the pressure of his kiss intensified.
Sensation exploded through her like a wildfire, and the swirl of heat and excitement threatened to consume her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned closer, pressing her hips into his, allowing her body to obey the desire to be as close to him as possible.
“And what do you want, Mr. Dorian Gray?” She posed the query as he finally left her lips and continued a wet, open-mouthed trek down the side of her neck. As his tongue stroked the frantic pulse there, his hands rested at her waist, brushing the smooth satin of her gown.
“I want you naked in my arms, Venetia Tremaine,” he breathed as he kissed her forehead. “I want to do things to you that have you crying my name like a prayer. Things that no other man will ever do to you, darling.” He smiled down at her, and she laughed quietly.
“You’re very certain of your prowess, Mr. Gray.”
Dorian’s laughter was genuine for the first time in a very long time.
“Venetia!”
The spell of seduction shattered with the strident outcry of Lady Tremaine as she arrived on the terrace and found them.
“I do apologize for my daughter’s shameless behaviour, Mr. Gray. Do forgive her lack of manners, please.”
Dorian’s eyes glittered with amusement when he let his gaze linger a moment longer on Venetia. “I would forgive your daughter any breach of manners, Lady,” he assured the distraught mother. “Her charm far surpasses any minor lapse in propriety. And,” he turned the full force of his disarming smile on the older woman, “any indiscretion was entirely my fault.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Gray,” Venetia interjected. “Mother, I’m not feeling at all well. I think I’ll retire for the night.”
“In the middle of a ball given in your honour!” The piercing quality had returned to her voice and Venetia frowned at the censure. “Have you no sense of proper behaviour, my dear?”
“I am hardly likely to charm a potential husband if I can hardly stand up due to fatigue, Mother.”
Dorian hid a smile behind his hand, and turned to look out over the gardens.
“Perhaps a walk in the garden would revive your spirits, Miss Tremaine?” He made the suggestion in a tone meant to appeal to her mother, who watched them with overt suspicion. “Lady Tremaine, with your permission…”
The challenge was there between them, though only Dorian and Venetia knew it was in fact a challenge to the woman’s position and authority. Genevieve Tremaine was not only outwitted, she was severely disadvantaged by Dorian’s outwardly innocuous appearance of decorum.
“Of course,” Genevieve nodded, still visibly unsure of the proposition. “I’ll expect to see you inside very shortly, Venetia.”
“Of course,” Venetia nodded, her entire mien demure and compliant.
Lady Tremaine hovered for a moment longer, then turned and went back inside to her guests.
“You are a very wicked man, Dorian Gray,” she noted with a small laugh.
“Thoroughly irredeemable, I’m afraid,” he agreed. “Now, would you really rejoin this rather tedious ball when I’m offering you an escape?”
“An escape,” Venetia repeated, tone thoughtful. “An interesting proposition.”
“I have a much more interesting proposition in mind,” he told her, walking half a step behind her so that he had to lean close to speak the words next to her ear…
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Rebel Knight 2 is posted at AMC1902
Just so you all know, Chapter Two is finally up... Here's the cover!! Enjoy, and let us know what you'd like to see happen to Nick in future, okay??
http://www.amc1902.com/RebelKnight.php
Professional vs. hobby writing
This is a subject that comes up quite often with all writers, whether it’s your part-time escape, or the job you love most in the world. In my experience, two writers seldom ever work in the same manner, let alone view what they do in the same way. A couple of years ago I was lucky enough to make the jump to professional writing as my full-time job. It took a long time, and a lot of perseverance, which is the one word I would suggest you etch into your brain if writing is what you want to do for the rest of your life. Talent is only a small part of the package, which is something most people tend to not realize. The real test of your skill is not always going to be in how you craft your words, but how you then deal with them afterward.
Early on, talking to my editors, I discovered there’s a real disparity in how even pro writers approach their work. Some are still more hobby writers than driven professionals who value the opportunities that precious, and often elusive, book contract offers them. Instead of working with the editor, (who is the one person who doesn’t lie to you for the sake of your ego, I assure you), some authors take offense to the suggestion that their words are not in perfect order. BIG mistake that one. No one writes a perfect story, and if you think you do, you’re not likely to last long in the “pro” world. I was very lucky with my first editor, she took the time to point out my consistent mistakes, and helped me to a very large degree be aware enough that I’ve made those errors less and less often. I’ll always be grateful for her patience and guidance.
One of the other things that I’ve noticed is greatly appreciated by publishers is that you take this job seriously. They’re not there to wait on your “moods”. If you’re in the middle of edits or galley proofs, then do the work you’ve committed yourself to for the publisher. Don’t make them wait until your cosmic aura is in tune with the world and you feel up to working. Writers work on weekends and holidays, it’s the nature of the business. Honour the agreement you make to work on a timely basis with the folks who are willing to invest their business time and money into your dream of reaching an audience. Professional authors write, they don’t really have the luxury of waiting for the “mood” to strike. If you do, then you’re obviously not looking at this as a job, but an enjoyable and amusing hobby.
And, of course, there’s the audience who is reading your work. Don’t EVER take them for granted! When a writer starts to establish a readership base, every book is about luring in the reader who will really enjoy sharing your vision. You’re winning them over and tempting them back with each and every book. If you’re lucky, they’ll return to your websites, publishers, and blogs on a regular basis and support your career. That’s when the stories have to expand a little further, and as a writer, you then accept the responsibility for entertaining your readers and honouring their trust and faith that you’ll give them the story they want and expect. Contrary to what a few of my friends have said, that really doesn’t mean writing the same story over and over. It means growing, letting your creativity explore the endless realm of possibility, and respecting your readers.
Inspiration comes in many, many forms. For me, it’s always been random chance. When I wrote fan fiction, it was an actor or a character he/she portrayed. When I write original fiction, which is what 95% of it has become in the past few years, then inspiration hits anywhere. My Greek fantasy novel (80,000+ words) was born when I read a piece of ancient poetry. An image will spark an entire story some days. Or the way a certain actor looks in a specific role will inspire an entirely different kind of story. Don’t ever discount the power of a glimpse of something beautiful, or even something profoundly disturbing, because that’s often where your greatest stories can be found.
Ultimately, this is the most wonderful job in the world. You get to express your inner dreams, live your fantasies, and be everything you know in your honest heart that you will never be! Writing is not only cathartic, it’s a gift the Almighty gives us so that we can reach beyond ourselves and touch the hearts of others. Personally, I think that’s a privilege and I hope I can always entertain my readers, and leave them feeling a little bit “up” at the end of the tale. If that happens, then I’ve done my job right.
Early on, talking to my editors, I discovered there’s a real disparity in how even pro writers approach their work. Some are still more hobby writers than driven professionals who value the opportunities that precious, and often elusive, book contract offers them. Instead of working with the editor, (who is the one person who doesn’t lie to you for the sake of your ego, I assure you), some authors take offense to the suggestion that their words are not in perfect order. BIG mistake that one. No one writes a perfect story, and if you think you do, you’re not likely to last long in the “pro” world. I was very lucky with my first editor, she took the time to point out my consistent mistakes, and helped me to a very large degree be aware enough that I’ve made those errors less and less often. I’ll always be grateful for her patience and guidance.
One of the other things that I’ve noticed is greatly appreciated by publishers is that you take this job seriously. They’re not there to wait on your “moods”. If you’re in the middle of edits or galley proofs, then do the work you’ve committed yourself to for the publisher. Don’t make them wait until your cosmic aura is in tune with the world and you feel up to working. Writers work on weekends and holidays, it’s the nature of the business. Honour the agreement you make to work on a timely basis with the folks who are willing to invest their business time and money into your dream of reaching an audience. Professional authors write, they don’t really have the luxury of waiting for the “mood” to strike. If you do, then you’re obviously not looking at this as a job, but an enjoyable and amusing hobby.
And, of course, there’s the audience who is reading your work. Don’t EVER take them for granted! When a writer starts to establish a readership base, every book is about luring in the reader who will really enjoy sharing your vision. You’re winning them over and tempting them back with each and every book. If you’re lucky, they’ll return to your websites, publishers, and blogs on a regular basis and support your career. That’s when the stories have to expand a little further, and as a writer, you then accept the responsibility for entertaining your readers and honouring their trust and faith that you’ll give them the story they want and expect. Contrary to what a few of my friends have said, that really doesn’t mean writing the same story over and over. It means growing, letting your creativity explore the endless realm of possibility, and respecting your readers.
Inspiration comes in many, many forms. For me, it’s always been random chance. When I wrote fan fiction, it was an actor or a character he/she portrayed. When I write original fiction, which is what 95% of it has become in the past few years, then inspiration hits anywhere. My Greek fantasy novel (80,000+ words) was born when I read a piece of ancient poetry. An image will spark an entire story some days. Or the way a certain actor looks in a specific role will inspire an entirely different kind of story. Don’t ever discount the power of a glimpse of something beautiful, or even something profoundly disturbing, because that’s often where your greatest stories can be found.
Ultimately, this is the most wonderful job in the world. You get to express your inner dreams, live your fantasies, and be everything you know in your honest heart that you will never be! Writing is not only cathartic, it’s a gift the Almighty gives us so that we can reach beyond ourselves and touch the hearts of others. Personally, I think that’s a privilege and I hope I can always entertain my readers, and leave them feeling a little bit “up” at the end of the tale. If that happens, then I’ve done my job right.
Muse of the moment
Okay, just for fun recently I’ve decided to take a brief break from professional commitments to have some fun. Writing is a joy to those who do it, but it’s also a job, so once in awhile you need a vacation. For me, writing in someone else’s world is often the creative “recharge” that my batteries need. This time is no different.
Anyone whose known me for awhile knows I started writing in fandom, and that’s usually where I head when I want to do something that is purely for fun. One of my favourite movies was watched again recently, and a story that nagged at me a couple of years back when I first watched it came back with a vengeance. So… For those of you who enjoyed The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, this novella might appeal to you! We all develop crushes on performers that we love, so it was no surprise to me when Stuart Townsend’s portrayal of Dorian Gray lingered on long after the movie ended. But, for me, characters sometimes talk long after the movie’s over, as well, and that’s usually when I need to write the stories they whisper to my mind. “Dorian” wanted to be resurrected, and maybe even redeemed a little bit, so… That’s what I’m doing.
The new novella is called My Immortal Beloved, and it will be published by a very dear friend of mine later this year, or possibly early next year. I’ll post details as we get closer to making this an actual book. If you enjoy Victorian England at all, there’s that appeal. If you adore Stuart Townsend, (and let’s face it, what’s not to love, right?), then you may want to check this out for that reason. For most readers, the appeal may simply be that this is a beautiful, erotic romance story that just happens to be based on a movie. Stay tuned for details, okay?
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Hello on the weekend...
Not much in the way of news, things are moving on schedule. My first Liquid Silver Books release is set for mid-August. At the moment, I'm working on two non-erotic titles, one is a new fantasy novel with pirates, magic, and alternate worlds. And, my other one is an Historical Romance that I've wanted to have done for ages. I think it's one of the best things I've ever worked on, so wish me luck with it!! The research is fun, cowboys and the Old West. My favourites things.
Talk to you later.....
Talk to you later.....
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Release dates!!!
I have tentative dates for my first two Liquid Silver Books releases.
SIMPLY THE BEST is set for mid-August. And, Book One of The Devane Files, OUT OF HELL is scheduled for early-mid September at this time. Not long now....
I'm starting a newsletter, if you'd like to receive it, dropme an email and I'll add you to the subscription list!
SIMPLY THE BEST is set for mid-August. And, Book One of The Devane Files, OUT OF HELL is scheduled for early-mid September at this time. Not long now....
I'm starting a newsletter, if you'd like to receive it, dropme an email and I'll add you to the subscription list!
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