I appreciate how much better my Kindle has made my life
I appreciate how much better my Kindle has made my life.
I will never give up having at least a laptop, but I’m not chained to it anymore. I have something that more easily fits my hand. I can work outside or thanks to Swype write while I’m walking somewhere.
I use ColorNote to write posts, then email them either to myself or directly to my blog. I’ve nearly completed a novel with it.
And for proofing … The Kindle has become my hero.
I make a mobi file, then use notes to tell myself where changes should be, and the dictionary has saved me a few headaches. I bookmark the page where I left off so I never lose my place. And when I’m all done, I see where changes need to be made and I do a Find & Replace on my document.
Maybe I’ll upgrade to a better and fancier tablet, but the Kindle has been a great introduction for me. It’s given me a taste for what I want a tablet to do and I didn’t have to sell my soul to afford it.
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Read slashy stories at Kimichee.
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Have an excerpt of “Fierce,” by Harper Kingsley. mm contemporary.
EXCERPT:
Rating: teen+ to be safe
Being on location was one of those things Simon used to love but that now made his stomach churn nervously. He didn’t really like being out of his safety zone, but it was something he felt had to be done.
Looking over and being able to see Byron Hughes standing with the rest of the crew made him feel better. His bodyguard had a gun and was willing to use it. He was perfectly safe.
“All right, Simon, in this scene you and Colby are entering the Dragon’s Tomb,” the director, Paul Bleek, said. “Just like in practice, you bring the gun up and it’s just ‘bang-bang-bang.’ Colby, you get hit and fall down, knocking over the Orb. We all good?”
Colby nodded and Simon said, “We good.”
They were standing in front of the archway leading to the “Dragon’s Tomb,” a temple built by the set designers in the middle of the desert. It was already hot and Simon could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead and sticking his clothes to his skin.
Waiting for the cue, he flashed a smile at Colby. “So what’s it like being the male Lara Croft?”
Colby Jackson gave his world famous grin. He really was amazingly good looking, a tall African-American with a leanly muscled body and a perfectly trimmed beard. “I feel very pretty.”
They’d never worked together though they’d known each other for years. It had only been because Colby asked so nicely that Simon had even accepted the role of “Percy Walden,” assistant and sidekick to itinerant explorer “Nicholas Blaine.”
“Places!”
“Let’s Indiana Jones this bitch up,” Simon said, earning himself a laugh.
Dressed in black pants, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a flak vest jangling with all kinds of faux-weaponry, Simon already felt like he needed a break and they hadn’t really even started yet.
“All right… Action!” Bleek called.
Simon drew in a deep breath and hurtled forward and kicked the stone door down with a grunt. He had a gun in his hand and he didn’t hesitate to run forward into the tomb. His head moved back and forth alertly and it seemed natural to bring his gun up and start shooting.
An Asian-looking tomb all shining with gold and jade. Dangerous looking men in lots of brown and gray clothing toting machine guns as they worked at stripping the place bare of treasure. They dropped what they were doing when he started shooting them and brought their own weapons up.
There were screams and shouts and the plink-plink of misses near his head and feet as he jumped, rolled, and dodged until every one of them was dead.
He stood from his crouch and turned to Colby. “It’s clear, sir.”
Colby sauntered in, his lips forming a disappointed moue. “Really, Percy, did you have to come charging through like a bull in a china shop? Perhaps some of these gentlemen would have liked the chance to surrender before you shot them in the face?”
Simon holstered his gun with a shrug. “We’ll never know now, will we?”
Colby smiled and started to say something, then hesitated. His expression congealed, his brows coming together, and he raised his right hand to his left shoulder.
“Sir?” Simon took a step toward him.
Colby pulled his hand away and there was blood on his fingers. He half-turned and there was a giant, bleeding wound in his back. “I think I’ve been shot,” he said calmly, then his legs wobbled and he stumbled sideways before collapsing. His flailing arm knocked against the pedestal and the glass Orb trembled and fell with a crash against the floor.
There was a puff of glittery dust that obscured everything.
/EXCERPT