Random stuff
I am sad that a certain someone has been voted off of Survivor. I loathed him, but he was entertaining. Now he can no longer lead his team with his eyes! Oh noes! Farewell to the strongest, most true warrior!!
Let’s see. What else. Oh. Supernatural’s season finale was good. Can’t wait for more Castiel next season. 
Other than that, there’s been a little bit of writing, but it’s mostly idea scribbling. I have a really difficult time working on two projects at once, no matter what I do. So I told myself that I’d work on edits, and when I got enough to feel virtuous about spending my time, I’d switch to one of the projects burning at the back of my brain. Except…when I work on the edits, then I get caught up in the edits! And find it hard to switch. Just not much of a multi-tasker.
Oh, and there is a dead possum in my back yard. Apparently it’s been dead for quite some time (like, months). And apparently I need to go into the back yard more often, because we never knew it was there until the Orkin man pointed it out.
Yeaaaah.
Oh oh oh!! And Succubi Like It Hot (Succubus Diaries, book 2) is now available on Amazon! You know you want to pre-order it. The book will be released on January 26th, 2010 — one month exactly after Gentlemen Prefer Succubi hits the shelves.
Yay!
Coming Up For Air…
Hey everyone!
After a month (well, almost) of slogging, I’m done with my edits. Hooray! I wasn’t sure how I’d handle my first ‘real’ big change letter, but it was a learning experience and a fun process, and I’m 110% happier with my book now than I was when I started. So yay for that! I’ve got a few last minute tweaks to make and it’ll be winging back to my editor. And that means a mini vacation for yours truly.
But I should be back to blogging again, which is nice. Things are moving along in the book publishing world — I should be receiving finalized back cover copy soon (which I will share) and a few more blurbs (which I will also share).
In the meantime, I am thrilled to be done. It’s a great feeling of accomplishment.
Haven’t posted in a bit, sorry.
I’m currently in the middle of edits of book 2, SUCCUBI LIKE IT HOT. Edits are currently eating my brain to the point that I’m not really functioning like a normal person. I just stare at my computer and reword the same sentence over and over again.
I’ll be back in a few weeks when edits are turned in. In the meantime, I offer a (very small) snippet from book 1, GENTLEMEN PREFER SUCCUBI:
(Jackie and Zane are in the New City Museum of Art, looking for clues)
“Are you going to be in there long?” From outside of the claustrophobic storage closet, Zane’s voice echoed in the quiet hall. “Or shall I wander off?”
Oh hell no. I didn’t want him wandering off at all. I had to think fast. “Wait,” I called out, cracking the door and sticking my head out to look at him. “Do you know what Nitocris’s cartouche looks like?”
The vampire gave me a blank look. “I beg your pardon?”
“The cartouche?”
An offended look crossed his face. “How dare you ask me about such a thing? She is my queen, not some common slut-”
I blinked hard, and resisted the urge to giggle at the piss and vinegar look on his normally blasé face. “Whoa there, stud. I meant her name. Spelled out in Egyptian hieroglyphs.”
He flicked his cigarette butt on the floor, no doubt to tick me off. “No, I wouldn’t know.”
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See you on the other side of edits!
The Edit Letter
On Tuesday, I hit a milestone in the publishing sprint/marathon/turtle-crawl. I got my first edit letter. This is book 2 for my series, but book 1 never had an official letter – it was mostly verbal “Can you change this” or “Let’s go back to this version” etc etc. Book 2 was going to be my first, honest to goodness edit letter.
I was terrified to think of what it might contain. There’s always the horror story lurking in the back of your mind:
Dear Jill,
Start Over. Really. This blows.
Love,
Your Awesome Editor
Luckily, this wasn’t the case! My edits were actually pretty light, and the letter clocks in at 7 pages. For those of you wondering what the edit letter contains, here’s a quick and dirty breakdown of what mine has:
Page 1: Editor tells me how much she liked my book and a broad overview of what I did right. Yay!
Page 2: A broad overview of what I need to fix in the story. For me, I short-changed two subplots and have questionable motivation for two characters. Still easy fixes.
Page 3-7: Page notes. For example: “Page 231, you say “200 years but it’s really 400” or “Page 76: Man, she’s kind of being a jerk right here, isn’t she?”
All really great stuff. I printed my manuscript and have started working on it already. I wasn’t sure what my reaction would be – I’ve heard stories of authors weeping, calling their agents ranting about cruel editors, and all over the spectrum. Here’s basically how I reacted:
Page 1: This doesn’t sound bad…
Page 2: Ohmigod – that’s EXACTLY WHAT MY BETAS said. Wow. She caught that!
Page 3 – 7: Er…wow…there are a lot of notes here. 
In all seriousness, I love my notes. My editor knows exactly what I’m trying to do with the book, and there wasn’t really one single thing I disagreed with. She pinpointed my weak-spots with laser accuracy. And sprinkled into the letter are comments about parts that she found funny (which I loved) and parts which were…not (which made me realize I am not as funny as I think I am, hee).
I have difficulty with constructive criticism at the day job, so I was worried I’d be really upset at her notes. As in, must lay in bed and stew for 24 hours before I can possibly read these notes ever again (cue back of hand against forehead). But after reading her notes, I am totally pumped. 100% excited and ready to fix this bad boy.
Here’s the thing, though. You think critiques are hard? Those tough beta-readers? Those agents that gave you feedback that made you curl up into a fetal position? Those editors that passed on your submission because they didn’t like it?
Suck it up, because it doesn’t change now that you have a contract. Your editor is going to ask you to change a lot and she’s only going to sugar-coat it on page one. Your book is now a Product (Yes, I said the “P” word), and she’s going to expect you to act like a professional.
My letter is absolutely great, but my editor doesn’t pull punches. She gives it to me like an adult. If my character acts like an asshole in chapter 20, she tells me. If I write an idiotic phrase, she points it out. And not with “Oh dear, special snowflake! You might have made a mistake! But it’s okay!! I love you!” Nope. Your editor is not there to lovingly stroke your hair and tell you that you are the bestest writer evaaaaaaaarrrr. She is there to make your book successful. And she already thinks you’re awesome because she bought your book. And if she thinks you wrote a moronic subplot in on page 157, she’s going to tell you to take it out, no matter how much you might love it.
If you want petting and love and sympathy, talk to your agent (well, maybe) or your parents (definitely).
But you’d still better fix that shit in your book, or the copyeditor is going to tear you a new one.
(And I got agent notes on a different project yesterday. She didn’t stroke my hair either, come to think of it! But she pegged everything I thought was questionable. Love that. Best Agent Ever.)
Snippet!
Here’s a quick snippet of GENTLEMEN PREFER SUCCUBI (pre-copy-edit, so please ignore errors):
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Noah took his sweet time getting to the cathedral, I must admit. I’d been checking my watch every thirty seconds since the clock had struck seven, and still no sign of Noah or his friend. When seven-thirty crawled around, I got up from the pew I’d been hogging and decided that he had been yanking my chain. He wasn’t coming. This was just another joke in the long line of misfortunes that had been my life recently.
Of course, just as I stood up, Noah walked through the double doors, sending my hormones through the roof. At the sight of his broad shoulders, my insides quivered and I felt a flush sweep over my body and centralize between my thighs.
Not two seconds later, I noticed following close behind him was what appeared to be a supermodel, and distaste flared as well. How dare that jerk make me wait because he was on a date? Self-consciously, I smoothed my hair and hoped my Notre Dame sweatshirt didn’t have any stains on it.
Noah looked as delicious as ever. Dressed in a cool grey jacket, his wavy dark-blonde hair was pushed off his face in tousled bed-head fashion, and he wore dark grey slacks as well. His shirt was a dark garnet color, which I wouldn’t think would go well with a business suit, but he made it work. No tie, again, and his collar gaped slightly, revealing a smooth, tanned chest.
“Hi,” I managed to choke out, trying to control myself at the sight of him. The urge to dive onto him and kiss him madly was a tough one to resist. “Thank god you’re here.”
The supermodel behind him took off her sunglasses and revealed pale blue eyes. “Wow, she’s got it bad, Noah. Check out her eyes.”
“I see them.” His grey ones stared into my own. “Are you all right, Jackie?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, unable to keep the whine out of my voice as I sized up the competition. The girl behind Noah was utterly gorgeous, a tall, exotic supermodel type. She must have been Indian, or Arabian, or something along those bloodlines. Her hair was a smooth black curtain rippling down her shoulders, and she was built like a Barbie doll. Her light-colored eyes made her look striking, and her skin was the most delicious shade of caramel I had ever seen. A short, tight mini-dress revealed impossibly long legs and a svelte figure that had likely never seen a Slim-Fast shake in its life. I was pretty sure I’d seen her before somewhere. Like on the cover of Sports Illustrated.
I hated her on sight.
“Why’d you bring her?” The petulant words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
Supermodel took one look at me and began to laugh. She nudged Noah forward. “Did you not explain anything? Good lord, man. Her panties must be soaked at this point, and here you show up with a date.”
I blinked at the woman’s crude words. “I beg your pardon?”
Noah put his hands on my shoulders, and my entire body began to tingle. God, he smelled good. I grew dazed at the thick, masculine scent of him—he smelled like leather and cinnamon. I leaned closer to him, admiring the hard angle of his jaw. If I moved in close enough, I could tuck my head under it and be enveloped in his arms. Held against that broad, delicious chest.
“Are you okay, Jackie?”
He repeated his question a third time and I managed to nod at him. “Something’s wrong with me, Noah.” I reached for him, dying to touch him, and then pulled my hands back at the last moment. Maybe I was being too forward.
Noah sat down on the pew, and I sat down next to him, so close that I was practically in his lap and stared into his eyes.
“Do you believe me now?” he asked.
“About?” I said, distracted by the nearness of him.
“You’ve been turned into a succubus.” His hands clasped my own.
“Right…” My skin began to itch, and I wanted to rip the jacket off his shoulders. I was having a hard time concentrating. If he moved his finger just slightly, he’d rub against my palms. My thighs quivered just at the thought alone. “What exactly do those do again?”
“It’s a long story,” Noah’s friend explained. I’d almost forgotten she was there, like a buzzing fly. “I doubt it’ll sink in until we take care of your current Itch, though.”
“My itch?” I echoed her words, wondering how she’d managed to put her finger on the exact word for what I was feeling. I was itching, all right. My whole body was pulsing, and the feeling was centralized right in my pelvis. Noah’s close proximity didn’t help things much either. I shifted a little closer to him, my thigh brushing up against his.
“The first time’s always the worst,” she said, her voice cheerful.
I barely heard her. My entire being was focused on that knee so close to mine. Noah had very large thighs, I noticed.
Noah must have sensed what I was telegraphing. He picked me up off the bench and slid me into his lap, and my nerves thrilled at the contact. My mind swam from the sudden rush of blood, senses fogged, all nerve-endings focused entirely on the small of my back where his hands rested.
“I guess we’d better find some place to take care of this.” His voice sounded from far away, heard through the roaring of blood in my ears.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts against him.
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Still on hiatus for most of March, but wanted to share…
Someone’s on Amazon! Yaaay!
Click here to pre-order, because you know you want to.
Official Release Date? December 29, 2009.
YAY!
(Will update my page shortly, and a snippet is still forthcoming, promise.)
ZOMG
I love you, Google Alerts! Because you brought me this:
http://authors.simonandschuster.com/Jill-Myles/46456926
OMG YOU GUYS I’M HAVING A BOOK PUBLISHED. IT’S LIKE IT’S NOT JUST IN MY HEAD ANYMORE. AND THEY WILL EVEN BE IN EBOOK. ZOMG AGAIN.
*runs around the room*
(And the author photo is a dead ringer for me – j/k)
ETA – I did not realize at the time that the page says that the books will be out in February & March 2009 (as in, a month from now). This is wrong. As far as I know, pub date is still 2010. After all, there are still no covers or anything on Amazon, and I don’t think that’s part of the plan.
