MY CRAZY HOLIDAY

You know you're totally PC when you feel guilty celebrating Thanksgiving. US history seems like one great big bloody stain between what we did to the Native Americans, Slavery, turning away Jewish Refugees, Japanese Internment Camps, waging wars over oil and religion... I try to tell myself it's a holiday about thankfulness, but there's an empty feeling in my gut that only Tofurky can fill. LOL

But I digress. My crazy holiday began at 1:00am November 26th, Thanksgiving morning. I'm at work, hoping to soon clock out so I can get back to making my yummy Carmela Apple Pies!

The new girl at work and I had just finished setting up the dining area for breakfast, when we noticed a man sleeping on the couch in the hotel lobby. I asked him if he was a guest and he said yes. He seemed intoxicated but friendly at that moment.

His name (Christopher Gledhill) wasn't in our system, nor had it ever been in our system. He was certain that he was a guest at our hotel and handed me his credit card. There was no record of his credit card in our system. He said he checked in earlier that morning, 8:00am 11.25.2015...But I found no record of anyone checking in then, 

At this moment 3 police officers approached my desk because apparently another actual guest (Kerry Friendly) had called the police to dispute a transaction on his credit card, the transaction being him having to pay for his room, which he didn't feel he had to even though it was a prepaid for reservation... The police said that Kerry wasn't well in the head and moved to leave, when Chris told them they'd be back because he was going to press charges on us if we couldn't find his reservation...Chris was right, but he wasn't the one to call them.

Up until that point I was prepared to check him in anyway. My main concern had been that he was at the wrong hotel in town and I wanted him to be sure he was at the right place, but pressing charges against us? Suing us? What the heck? I told him there was nothing I could do for him. We have no record of him in our system whatsoever, and his attitude had destroyed any compassion I had for him.

He pulled out a knife! I didn't see it at the time, but my coworker did. Yeah, still no. I was not checking this guy in, no way, no how.

He then said he was actually a secret shopper and I was in huge trouble...A secret shopper at now 2:00am on Thanksgiving morning? HA! It was incredibly hard not to laugh at him. I just smiled and said, "Nope." Maybe I did laugh a little...I asked him to leave, just leave. He wanted my name and my manager's card. Yeah, buddy, take what you want. 

When he finally did leave, I locked the doors behind him but he was soon back. He begged to be let in for a while and then decided he'd take himself a nap beside our doors, so we called the police. The local police are amazing, so nice and very fast to respond. They were there in minutes and called the guy a cab home. But first we had him sign a notice of trespassing. 

Then I went home to bake! I got two hours of sleep, and then I was up and getting ready for Thanksgiving! Cooking, Cooking, Eating, Eating, napping and then back to work again. 

A few hours before I would leave for home, Mr. Friendly (the guy that didn't want to pay for the room he already paid for...) came to the front desk to argue about how expensive our ice cream is. He came back later to say he bought some cheaper ice cream at the grocery store, but then ended up buying half the store, but that's okay, because he's a billionaire. 

"Why argue over $5 ice cream if you're a billionaire?"

He's a trillionaire, actually. He was born into riches. 

"That must be nice. I was born into the opposite of that." LOL

He's royalty, actually. 

"Oh, wow. That will do it."

He says he's the King of Washington State! 

There are no kings in America. (other that movie stars and CEOs)

He says, he's THE MESSIAH. He's the king of kings (in all seriousness)

I said, "Well that changes things" LOL

He goes on to weave this fantastically, if not a heaping butt load narcissistic and absolutely delusional tale. You see, he is Jesus and God. He found out 19 days ago when God physically came to him and told him he's royalty and has all the money in the world, and complete rule over all the universe. 

As a decedent of Sampson (the murderous biblical douche bag with super human strength...until you cut his hair. Then he was weak...until it grew back, then he was a murdering super human again), Friendly's father was not born of a woman (no details given) but his mother was just 4 years older than himself (white with blue eyes and blond hair), and a direct decedent of Lucifer himself, who also had blue eyes and blond hair, because obviously all white people came from Lucifer and all Black people came from Jesus. That's why all white people are evil and all black people are good. Duh. :-P

Oh, did I forget to mention that I was meant to be his queen? Yup, the whole point of his nonstop nonsense was to convince me that God wanted us to be together, forget that I'm married. God loves me and wants to bless me in the privacy of Mr. Friendly's room. Insert here disgusting horny facial expressions and sounds, and a plethora of not cool sexual comments. He wanted to bless me all night...so gross... He went on and on about how much money I will have and what God wanted to do to my body, 3 times a day, every day. I tried to keep it professional, to be politely pleasant, but I couldn't stop being incredibly sarcastic.But, my semi-regular outbursts of funny went unnoticed.

This harassing went on and on for far too long before our security finally escorted him to his room, which was fantastic because just as the security office came in he was trying to reach over the counter to kiss me....NO!

 As soon as he was gone from the front desk I left! It was all I could do to not speed the whole way home. I needed mass quantities of distance between us to feel better. I got home just before midnight, but I couldn't sleep. I stayed up until 3:00am binging on Netflix, Jessica Jones until I finally felt I could fall asleep, you know, just in time for the baby to wake up. LOL ^_^ 

Yeah, I had a swell Thanksgiving...

I'm not sure if any of this even makes a lick of sense...I still haven't had enough sleep to function at 100%.  2 hours here, 1 hour there...so tired :-P

WOW 4 MONTHS!

That's crazy, right? I haven't written a blog in 4 months...too busy being a mom to a toddler and a new born.

On September 20th, I gave birth to a lovely little boy, named Bram Alexander Graves.

Bram and Morrighan

He was huge, which doesn't make sense... Throughout the pregnancy I was on a strict diet. I always treat my body better when someone else is inside it. I lost 40 lb while pregnant! You would think that would earn me a small baby, and you'd be wrong. He was nearly 10 pounds at birth and two months later he's pushing 15 pounds... all he drinks is breast milk.

In other news, I'm still struggling with Toxic. I'm stuck at chapter 28, and for no good reason at all. I know what's going to happen, I know how it's going to happen...I just can't bring myself to write it. Maybe I'm afraid to say goodbye to Raina, this being the last book and all. I'm rereading all the books with a fine tooth comb, making sure I don't miss a loose thread, no forgotten plot lines, which is easy to do after 4 books.

I've once again redesigned my book's covers. I wanted something more dramatic, something that spoke to the mysterious elements of the book but still felt very Washington, very Pacific North West:

  

  

I'm hoping to get back on track with Toxic soon. Maybe one more read-through is what I need to say goodbye. I'm hoping I'm not suffering from Postpartum Depression again....It was hell with Mo. 

Right now all 4 books are on sale for just .99 cents for November. What the heck, I'm turning 32 years old come November 17th.  

WWP: Writing While Pregnant

I've never tried to write while pregnant before this year. My daughter was born just months before I published the first Raina Kirkland novel, Fatal Retribution... But the novel itself had been written for years before that point. December 2011 was just when I gave up on traditional publishing and took my life into my own hands, but I didn't write a word of Fatal Retribution while I was pregnant...I was too busy working two jobs for most of the pregnancy.

I started writing the 5th and final Raina Kirkland novel, Toxic, in November 2014 and by January 2015 I was nearly a quarter of the way done with the first rough draft. Then I found out I was pregnant. Then 3 solid months of sever morning sickness. I lost almost 30lb through starvation and vomiting. I was good for a couple months after that. I got to the halfway point, chapter 20....Then the cramps and cervix pains began around the 5th month and have steadily gotten worse and worse. I'm at week 31, just 8 more weeks of pregnancy and I'm still on chapter 22 in Toxic...I am fully sure I will not make my publishing deadline of Winter 2015. Sadness

Not only am I in pain and near constant discomfort, but I'm terribly scatterbrained as well. I've spent 4 books setting up all the pieces. This books should be the easiest to write. I'm simply knocking over the pieces and watching them fall. Fun! But, no. I can't focus well enough to actually write well or much. I'm very very certain that once my brain chemistry calms I'm going to have to do a lot of rewriting. The new deadline for Toxic is now Summer 2016...Sorry guys. 

A Thought on The American Prison Industrial Complex

This idea hit me hard after seeing so much suffering first hand. I've seen lives destroyed by our prison system. We must acknowledge how very broken it is. When 1 in every 100 American's is in jail or prison, it's no longer a public service. It's a privately own money making machine in which men and women get in too easily and are terrorized, raped, beaten, belittled and dehumanized for years on end!

Prison should ONLY be for violent crimes. Murder, Rape, Torture, Assault, Armed Robbery....shit like that. All other crimes should be dealt with according to their wrong doing.

A thief should pay for what they took out of their paycheck and do community service on their weekends, like working in a community garden, giving back to the community to make up for stealing from it.

An Alcoholic or drug addict should be forced to seek medical help for their addiction and do community service, like work in a soup kitchen to teach them to not be so selfish.

And no one, not a single person, should be put in jail just because they can't afford bail or some stupid traffic ticket. That shit is outrageously fucked up! Jailed because you're poor? Really?

When we put nonviolent people in jail or prison, we aren't just punishing them. We're punishing their families, anyone who depends on them, and we're pretty much destroying their lives. These nonviolent people are getting beaten and raped brutally every day and night, and for what? Pot possession? Illegal gambling? Stealing? Speeding 10 miles over the limit while being poor? And when they do get out their lives are an uphill battle. They still have to pay restitution and court fines...But how are they supposed to get a job? Not to mention deal with the PTSD they got while in the rape-mill we call the Prison Industrial Complex.

We need a system overhaul. We need to deprivatize prison

Diana Graves: DREAM CAST FOR RAINA KIRKLAND MOVIES

Diana Graves: DREAM CAST FOR RAINA KIRKLAND MOVIES: It may very well be every author's dream to one day have their babies made into moving pictures.  I know it's mine.  I made some pr...

The Raina Kirkland Series

I feel like I've written a blog similar to this one once a long time ago, but after discussing the ailments of the world with a coworker, which inevitably brought me back to my books, The Raina Kirkland Series, I can't help but marvel at the progress of Raina's story.

In Book One, Fatal Retribution, Raina is very much a naïve young woman. She has a lot of emotional issues, like feeling less than human, and not good enough, never good enough. She's thrown into a fuck storm of chaos and pain, and yes, she cries, but more importantly, she never stops. She's young and sweet, but she's also head strong.

In Book Two, Mortal Sentry, it's only been a couple of months since holy hell came down on her, and tore away any normalcy she had known. She's hiding from a demon and most likely still dealing with the emotional aftermath of having her family torn apart and having killed a man in cold blood...PTSD seriously...But still, throughout the second book Raina puts other's before herself. Mortal Sentry is a serious clusterfuck, a who's who of shitty situations that never get any better until they get as bad as they could possibly get. Again, Raina is forced to either fall apart or rise to the occasion. Her stubborn heart would never let her let down a single soul. She has such a big heart, no matter her troubles.

I feel like Book Three, Grave Omen, is where a lot of readers become disillusioned with Raina. The entire point to Grave Omen is that something is obviously off, something is definitely not right, but Raina can't see that because her state of mind has been so fully altered, her ability to think is almost completely obstructed by her love for the people in her life. She's pregnant, she's feeling guilty because hundreds of people have died and she feels it's her fault. It's been nearly three years since book two, and her life seemed perfect...and then everything she holds dear, every person she's ever loved is in jeopardy because of what she is...And in the end it was a total Admiral Ackbar moment, 'It's a trap!" It was frustrating writing, so I don't blame readers who dislike book three, but it was a necessary evil.

The Forth Book, Deadly Encounters is be far my favorite. I loved writing it, and I love reading it over and over again. It has everything! Serious character development, vampire society, zombies and apocalyptic shit. In the forth book Raina has become exactly what Alistair had hoped for her, what the demon, Raphael had planned for her. The world is on the brink of total inhalation and only Raina can save it...but it's not that simple. It never is. Like in book two, shit has got to get as bad as it could possibly get before it can get better. I just love how this book flows, the drama and the progress and the ending is just so perfect.


Now on to the Fifth Book, Toxic. Washington State is quarantined from the world, because every single person living there has special super human abilities that can be used for good and bad, but because they came from Raina, they're inherently good, because with the powers gain, so gained was Raina's ability to feel the emotions of others as if they were their own...The story is a complex mix of politics, war, religion and the supernatural. My major concern is that with such serious martial that it might come off as heavy handed. And being pregnant myself, as Raina was in book three, my ability to focus is a tad unpredictable... too much emotional chaos.

 

A NEW NORMAL

#‎TeaserTuesday‬ **Spoiler Alert**

Toxic, the final Raina Kirkland book, is guaranteed to surprise many loyal and first time readers. If you've read the 4th book, you know the world just isn't the same for Raina and everyone else in Washington State. Here's a taste of their new normal:

Toxic: Chapter 6

     I sighed. It was my turn to take off for the day. I was wearing the same sort of tight thin jacket, good for aerodynamics. I put on my hat to keep my face from getting wind burnt, and my goggles. I slid on gloves and made sure my shoes are on tight…I hated losing them in the air. Like with most powers, it begins with a thought. Think light, think up. I could feel a tingling in my body as my insides became weightless before the rest of me. Heartburn. Damn it, I drank too much coffee…again. It took me a moment to change my breathing and I struggled to ignore the feeling of nausea that was inevitable. As my arms moved up I could feel my feet leaving the ground and my first instinct was always to panic. No matter how many times I flew, I always felt the need to panic at first. I used to be deathly afraid of heights, to the point of debilitation. I told myself I was not afraid. That the fear was illogical, but I could feel my spine tingle with adrenaline as I rose above the ground, five feet, ten, twenty, thirty…
     “Come on,” I urged myself. I knew I’d feel better once I started moving forward. I always did.
     Once I reached the proper distance from the ground, I lunged forward to lay out flat and moved along. I'm no superman. There was no fist forward, fast flying with a brave smile on my face. No, my kind of flying was both hands clutching my stomach, periodically checking the GPS on my wrist to make sure I was still on course to Washington’s capital in Olympia.
     As much as I hated flying, I had to admit, the commute had the best view. An endless sea of trees, green lakes, farming fields lush with fruits and vegetables and sapphire snow peaked mountains on every horizon. The rain from last night left the air crisp and clean. I flew over Interstate Five. It was once Washington’s largest freeway, now it was just a crumbling mess of cement covered in green plants. Three years of no use and Mother Nature had all but erased Washington’s mighty roadways. The only roads that were maintained were those in the five major cities; Seattle, Tacoma, Spokane, Vancouver and Olympia. And only to a point, really. Not everyone lived in the wilderness like Alistair and I. Some still liked the hustle and bustle of city life, they liked to drive and bike and take public transportation, all electric and clean of course.
     I smiled as I came up on the capital of Washington. The grounds were fifty acres of pristine beauty, elegantly arranged flowers and shrubs and a massive variety of old growth conifers, mostly shaggy hemlocks. The men who originally designed the landscape were the very same who designed the look of Central Park in New York City. And as the hub of government and justice, the capital was bursting with people; administrators, civil engineers, mayors and more.
     Flying over, I could see each memorial created to honor great wars fought and lives lost. A bronze statue of an angel guiding a solder, a sailor, a marine and a nurse to victory was built in remembrance of those thousand or so citizens of Washington who never came home after WWI. A field of cast-bronze wheat and five large blades with six-thousand names honored those Washitonians who died in WWII. For those lost in the Vietnam War there was a curved wall on the grassy knoll with more than a thousand names carved into its glossy surface. And as for the forgotten war in Korea, a beautiful statue with five-hundred and twenty-eight names engraved… Each memorial tugged at my heart, but I couldn’t help but feel there was a monument missing from Washington’s capital. But what kind of statue would befit the loss of over three million lives?