Murder She Writes

It’s Excerpt Week here on Murder She Writes. All the excerpts are copyrighted, you all know the drill. I’m putting up two excerpts from EXTREMELY HOT, and YOU GIVE LOVE A GOOD NAME (from SUN SAND SEX Anthology).

EXREMELY HOT
By Jennifer Apodaca

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We’re taking a little time off here at Murder She Writes. We hope you all have a Wonderful Holiday and Very happy New Year!

Next week we wiil have excerpts from our books.

On January 7, 2008 we’ll be back to our regular schedule.

Stay safe!

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One of the things I love most about this time of year is tapping into the hubster’s brain. Many years ago when he worked mids he began the tradition of writing a ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas rhyme to encompass the personality of not only his fellow cops, but the shift he worked, and the city he worked in. Sometimes it was poignant, but mostly it was hilarious. So as not to break with tradition, every year I ask him to write a ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas rhyme to highlight where I am with my writing. This year, as usual he nailed it.

So without further adieu, hubby’s 2007 ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas ditty:

T’was the night before deadline and all through my brain
Not a story was working, I felt totally drained

For weeks I’d been writing again and again
Working my story from beginning to end

My family forgotten who the hell are they
I’m on a deadline, nothing more to say

In the back of my neck a pain so severe
Hunched over this lap top, I give it a sneer

I know I must focus, this work is due
But people keep calling, and IMing me too

Distractions abound and the tension will mound
If I don’t finish soon, my head it will swoon

Then out on the porch, in front of the house
Something did stir, too big for a mouse

The door bell was ringing, too busy to care
Won’t someone get that, I’m driven to swear

But alone I must be for no one is moving
The ringing continues, it’s mine for the choosing

Up from my desk and my work at hand
I head for the stairs, “Who is it?” I demand.

Giggling and laughter, what the hell could this be
Some silly door to door, they should know I’m busy

Out on the porch there came such a clatter
I flew down the stairs to see what was the matter

Now to the door I move in a flash
And yank the thing open, I know, a bit rash

There in the dim from the moonlight high
Coming into focus, the annoyance I spy

Eight tiny Diva’s in their own right
Half in the bag, and out for the night

They rushed right in, and went straight to work
Gals on a mission, not one a jerk

While one mixed martini’s, another had truffle’s
Chips, dip and candy and even a pretzel

A varied group of female persuasion
I still tried to figure, what was the occasion

They threw up an easel and a board to boot
It’s a plotting party! oh what a hoot

Idea’s now flowed, and the booze did as well
We were chatting up a storm, this idea was swell

Soon it was finished, my story on track
Another great book, no, I’m no hack

Now out of here all of you, this book I must write
Out of my house, and into the night

I called to them all, each by their name
It was time to get going, this is no game

Now out of here, Josie and Tawny too
Out the door Jami, Poppy I bid you adieu

Natalie and Monica with the others you go
Allison and Bella as well you know

Into the night they staggered away
All on their feet, no one had a sleigh

Like waves on the ocean, arms in arms
They swayed down the street, setting off car alarms

The house now quiet, to my office I retreat
Two little dogs and a cat at my feet

I know I can finish with much delight
But I gotta get to work, it’s almost daylight

Off in the distance I can barely hear
The tone deaf singing of Diva’s so dear

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall
Ninety-nine bottles of beer

We plotted her book, and all got snookered
Ninety-nine bottles of beer…

Happy Holidays, all!
We’ll see you back here in a couple of weeks. Stay safe

Karin*

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I don’t have a long, witty, fun or poignant post today. I’m getting over a cold, the two older kids had finals and final projects all week, and I’m not *quite* don’t with Christmas shopping. I haven’t yet showered today because I got up late because the youngest Brennan insisted on sleeping on the couch last night. So I was up half the night with him, hoping to get him back to bed without waking the rest of the kids. No such luck. We both slept on the couch.

I started writing a post about depression during Christmas, and just deleted it. I think we all know that there are people who don’t handle this time of year well–either because of the intensity in the stores, the weather, or lack of nearby family. Travel can also be a strain on some, and memories of sad times often prevail over the good.

Instead, I thought I’d ask what your favorite feel-good movie is. What’s the one movie–Christmas or not–that never fails to uplift you. For me, it’s IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE. I know, that sounds typical and corny, but that movie never fails to remind me that sometimes we don’t know all the lives we touch. It’s not something most of us think about. We go about our lives and some days are worse than others. And we wonder, why? What good am I doing? Is it all worth it?

P.S. All the contest winner packages are ready for me to take to the post office. Sorry for the delay, I don’t know that you’ll get them by Christmas, but most assuredly right after!

P.P.S. Check out Kristin Nelson’s blog about her end of year stats. Amazing. She had over 30,000 queries. That’s 2,500 a month, or roughly 25 per business day. Amazing.

Day 1: Dear Boudreaux, Tanks for de bird in de pear tree. I fix it las’ night with dirty rice. I don’t t’ink de pear tree.will grow in de swamp, so I swap it for a Satsuma.

Day 2: Dear Boudreaux, You letter say you sent two turtle doves, but all I got was two scrawny pigeons. Anyway, I mixed dem with andouille an’ made some gumbo out of dem.

Day 3: Dear Boudreaux, Why don’t you sent some crawfish? I’m tired of eating dem damn birds. I gave two of dose prissy French chickens to Marie Trahan over at Grans Bayou an’ fed the t’ird one to my dog Phideaux. Marie needed some sparing partners for her fighting rooster.

Day 4: Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux! I tol’ you no more friggin’ birds. Deez four, what you call dem “calling birds” were so noisy you could hear dem all de way to Napoleonville. I used deir necks for my crab traps, an’ fed de rest of dem to de gators.

Day 5: Dear Boudreaux, You finally sen’ somethin’ useful. I like dem golden rings, me. I hocked dem at de pawn shop in Thibodeaux and got enough money to fix de shaft on my shrimp boat an’ buy a round for de boys at de Raisin’ Cane Lounge. Merci Beaucoup!

Day 6: Dear Boudreaux, Couchon! Back to de birds, you coonass turkey! Poor egg suckin’ Phideaux is scared to death at dem six geeses. He tried to eat dey eggs and dey peck de heck out of his snout. Dey good at eatin’ cockroaches, though. I may stuff one of dem wit’ ’rster dressin’ on Christmas day.

Day 7: Dear Boudreaux, I’m gonna wring you fool neck next time I see you. Thibeau, de mailman, is ready to kill you. De poop from all dem birds is stinkin’ up his mailboat. He afraid someone will slip on dat stuff and sue him good. I let dose seven swans loose to swim on de bayou and some duck hunters from Mississippi blasted dem out de water. Talk to you tomorrow.

Day 8: Dear Boudreaux, poor ole Thibeau, he had to make t’ree trips on his mailboat to deliver dem 8 maids a milkin’ and deir cows. One of dem cows got spooked by de alligators and almost tipped over de boat. I don’t like dem shiftless maids, me, no. I tol’ dem to get to work guttin’ fish and sweepin’ de shack but dey say it wasn’t in deir contract. Dey prob’ly t’ink dey too good to skin de nutrias I caught las’ night, too.

Day 9: Dear Boudreaux, What you tryin’ to do, huh? Thibeau had to borrow the Lutcher ferry to carry dem jumpin’ twits you call Lords-a-Leaping across the bayou. As soon as dey gots here dey wanted a tea break with crumpets. I don’t know what dat means but I says, “Well La Dee Da. You get Chicory coffee or nuttin’. Mon Dieu, what I’m gonna feed all dese bozos? Dey too snooty for fried nutria, and de cows done eat my turnip greens.

Day 10: Dear Boudreaux, You got to be outs you mind! If de mailman don’t kill you, I will fo’ sure. Today he deliver 10 half nikid floozies from Bourbon Street. Dey said dey be Ladies Dancin’ but dey don’t act like ladies in front of dose Limey twits. Dey almos’ left after one of dem got bit by a water moccasin over by de out-house. I had to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde an’ had to get toilet paper. The Sears catalog wasn’t good enough for dose hoity toity Lords’ royal behin’.

Day 11: Dear Boudreaux, where y’at? Cheerio an pip pip. Your 11 pipers pipin’ arrives today from the House of Blues, second lining as dey got off de boat. We fixed stuffed goose and beef jambalaya, finished de whiskey and we havin’ a fais-do-do. De new mailman, he drink a bottle of Jack Daniel an’ he havin’ a good time, yeah, dancin’ with de floozies. Thibeau he jump off de Sunshine Bridge yesterday, screamin’ your name. If you get a mysterious, ticking package in de mail, don’t open it.

Day 12: Dear Boudreaux, I sorry to tell you but I not your true love anymore, no. After de fais-do-do, I spent de night with Jacque, de head piper. We decide to open a restaurant and gentleman’s club on de bayou. The floozies, pardon me, Ladies dancing, can make $20 for a table dance, and de Lords can be waiters an’ valet park de boats. Since de maids don’t have no more cows to milk, I trained dem to set my crab traps, watch my trout lines, an’ run my shrimpin’ business. We’ll probably gross a million clams nex’ year!

A bit of Cajun cheer to all my friends. May this be your best holiday season ever!

deb

Every year is a learning year for me. I used to think when I “grew up” I would stop having these “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” moments when I realized I am a total idiot and I can’t believe I just did that! Unfortunately, it has not happened. As we edge toward the last few weeks of the year 2007, I decided to recount some of the things I have learned.

1. Dogs should not chew gum. Chewing gum with the sweetener xylitol in it can kill a dog. Stormy the Wonder Dog, who is a a notoriously poor judge of what should go in one’s mouth, survived a chewing gum incident. NO MORE GUM for the dog.

2. Britney Spears is BAT-SHIT crazy…. Really. Excuse my French, but how else do you explain it?

3. It doesn’t matter how smart you think you are, or how many parenting books you read, the realities of having a teenager WILL make you question your parenting abilities. When a child turns 15, they become a mutant. A mutant with a smart mouth. It’s unavoidable. (Note: Teenage boys are slightly more mutant than teenage girls, only because they have that testosterone thing going on.)

4. Old people do not drive slow because they can’t see over the steering wheel. They drive slow because the older you get, the faster your life goes. Why hurry?

5. Being an author makes you a “semi-celebrity,” and with that comes some pretty weird emails. Trust me on this one. I’ve been invited to ghostwrite about seven books this year. All offers I have had to turn down. I write fiction. Nonfiction requires you stay on the dotted line. I’ve been coloring outside it as long as I can remember…..

6. Being an author means suddenly complete strangers will give you writing advice. And expect you to take it. (Story ideas, too.)

7. People automatically assume that because you write books, you are rich. I want my swimming pool and summer home. Where IS it? Was that not in my contract?

8. When I grow up, I want to write like Laura Lippman.

9. I’m not entirely sure I want to grow up.

10. Pumpkin Pie shakes are to DIE for!

11. No matter how many psycho dance moms you meet, there is always one more around the bend. And she WILL manage to top the last one.

12. Dance teachers are walking drama. It rolls off them as they walk in the door. It is contagious. There should be a vaccine. (Love you all, but you know it’s true.)

13. If you are looking for the writers, please check the bar.

14. No one but me seems to find it strange that an active Mormon is writing books about vampires. Although they DO believe in eternal life….

15. There is a saying for EVERY situation. Just ask my father, who has become the KING OF ALL SAYINGS. For example, one of his new favorites: If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for everything. I suggested, “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” as an alternative. He was not amused.

16. Teenage girls are the hyenas of the human species. It’s best not to turn your back on them.

17. A hot-fix rhinestoner will burn a hole in lace DAMNED fast. (Don’t ask. It involves a costume, my Dancing Daughter, and my ineptness in all things fabric-related.)

18. No matter how happy you are to see your daughter make Ballet West’s production of the THE NUTCRACKER, there is nothing so glorious as the last night they perform….

19. When you finish up a blog post at 2 a.m., it starts to sound pretty stupid.

20. Jennifer Apodaca is funnier than I am. Damn her.

How about you? What did you learn in 2007?

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I know…I’m the Queen of Snark, and often put the “b” in witch. But what can I say? The holiday spirit jumped me when I wasn’t looking. I want to tell all the Murder She Writes Friends who hang out here with us how much I appreciate each of you. I know all the gals here do.

To the fans: We wouldn’t be doing this without you. That simple. Without you to buy our books, read and talk about them, we’d just be the crazy people talking to ourselves in the corner. But you give our voices a chance to come out in stories. You make us feel sane and valuable because you get us and our stories. Thank you!

To the writers who hang out with us: We need you just as much! Creating writer communities is how we keep that last shred of sanity. We learn from each other about the business, we support one another, often sharing courage, strength and wisdom. We teach the baby writer, patting her on the back for her achievement then gently showing her the cold, hard reality of publishing. For the more seasoned writer, we lean on each other when standing alone is just too damned scary.

I count all of you as friends.

And now a little offering, I’ll pick from the comments one winner of a $15.00 Barnes and Noble Card. Say anything you want in the comments, talk about what you’ve learned from hanging out here, or maybe how you found a new author, had a laugh, or just say “Happy Holidays.” It doesn’t matter, if you comment (without offense, please, it is the holidays) you get a chance. I’ll pick a winner from Monday’s comments, and post the winner in the comments on Tuesday, December 18th.

Happy Holidays and May 2008 Bring You The Dreams You Deserve!

My friend Toni McGee Causey interviewed me over at Murderati. Come visit and comment for a chance to win free books! (Including the new paranormal I wrote with Karin and Roxanne.) Murderati is one of my favorite blogs to visit.