Because I am an idiot, it was 4:30 ayem before I got to bed. You know, if I was out all night playing poker or hanging out in titty bars, like any self-respecting dyke, no one would think this the least bit strange. But no. I am a goddamn geek, and so I was up working on the Howards End sim, then just hanging out with Misi and Jimmy and Joah and Hya in the skybox, talking about movies and shit, and then I "had" to get over to Corvinus, where my Ravnos antitribu Nareth had to a) attend to the ghouling of her "cleaner," b) arrange a meeting between her Master —— who happens to be a Templar of the Sabbat and a Tzimisce kuldun —— and the head of the local Followers of Set, then accompany her Master to said meeting at a Sabbat-owned nightclub, because you never know when "meeting" is codeword for "ambush." Never mind that Nareth has been afflicted by some mysterious hypersenativity to all light, and her skin is a mass of seeping welts and oozing blisters. So, yeah, 4:30 ayem. But, Sonya (
My thanks to Beq for passing along a link to this review of Low Red Moon by Ryan Cole of Waterstone's. It made me happy, being called "...one of the finest and most criminally disregarded authors writing today."
Also, there was truly wonderful email from Cliff Miller (
The "weird tales" involving Swan Point's security continue to trickle in, and I should really go now, because there is email to answer before I can begin writing. It seems that news of mine and Spooky's harrowing encounter with the soul-guarding rent-a-cop has reached Roger Avary in Paris, and Neil in China (where, he says, the internet is really dodgy).....