Archive for November, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving

If you celebrate it  🙂  If not, then have a great day.  Maybe think about what you are thankful for.  I’m most thankful for my family.  My husband, my children and their spouses, my grandchildren and the one that’s on the way—I’m truly blessed.


I’m thankful for the friends who are there for me during the hard times.  I know they have my back.  They celebrate the good times as well.  


I’m thankful for the fans who buy my books, the booksellers and librarians who stock it.  For anyone who has ever said—you’ve got to read Karen’s books  🙂 


And I’m thankful I did a lot of the cooking and cleaning yesterday and don’t have as much to do today  🙂  Have a happy day tomorrow  🙂




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It’s here! My favorite holiday. I love Thanksgiving and hate that it gets trampled over by the Christmas rush. Thanksgiving is so much more than the heralding in of Santa. If you’re like me this weekend is nuts with getting things done. Thank heavens the leaves are all finally raked! What a job! Today I get out the holiday dishes. I’m a dish nut. I love china and linens and crystal. I especially love holiday dishes because they make every meal more festive. I dug out the Thanksgiving decorations of pumpkins, apples, dried arrangements and spiced scented candles a month ago. But of course the best thing about Thanksgiving is getting the family home. I have one daughter in NYC and another in Baltimore. They’ll be flying in on Wed. My son got married so we get to add another chair to the table. Always wonderful to add a chair and not take one away. We did that last year. Thanksgiving will be a day of everyone cooking and talking and laughing. Celebrating being together, giving thanks. What are your Thanksgiving plans? Going away? Having family over? Crashing by yourself and giving thanks you don’t have to be anywhere for the day? What makes Thanksgiving special for you? I’ll give away a Hot and Irresistible T-shirt from the answers. Have a great Thanksgiving. Hugs, Dianne Castell DianneCastell@hotmail.com

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Out of the closet

I’m coming out of the closet long enough to write my blog.  Yes, I’m getting organized—again.  I really doubt I’ll ever be truly organized but I’m getting rid of a lot of stuff and trying to contain everything else rather than having it scattered all over the house.  This is what I love about finishing a contract.  I always feel as though I’m starting new again. 


I’m putting fresh shelf paper in the kitchen.  I got the sticky kind.  Karl was cutting up peppers from the garden that is still producing and I decided to tackle the cabinats.  Karl is the type that if I start something, he’ll try to finish it.  I’m not sure why.  Anyway, I had this long piece of sticky shelf paper and was trying to get it on the far back corner and work from there.  He decides to help.  About three minutes later we looked like flies on flypaper.  Although it’s a little wrinkled in places we did manage to get a few cabinets done.  Onward and upward. 


The bad news is being out of work.  I’ve sent my 3 new proposals to my agent and he loved them—whew!  Now to see if the editor feels the same way.  This is always the scary part.   Prayers are welcome 🙂


Okay, I’m off to tackle another cabinet. 

Karen Kelley

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Saw this on FB and wanted to share.

FYI, I checked it on out Snopes.com and it looks very legit… if you can spare a Christmas card for this little guy, I’m sure he’d love it. 😦


ATTENTION FACEBOOK FAMILY & FRIENDS! Diana Harrison Biorkman has a 5-yr old son in his last stages of a 2 1/2 year battle with Neuroblastoma cancer.

They are celebrating Christmas next weekend and Noah loves Christmas cards. Please take a minute to send a card to: Noah Biorkman, 1141 Fountain View Circle, South Lyon MI 48178. THANKS. PLEASE REPOST THIS MSG & EMAIL YOUR BUDDIES! this was sent to me pass it on

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Countdown to Hunter’s Need…

Hunter’s Need releases in just over a month.  I’m doing a big contest over @  my personal blog.  If you’d like to read up on it, just visit http://shilohwalker.wordpress.com

A mini excerpt from the countdown…

He still had scars from those days, days that ran together in a pain-filled, delirious blur.  Just a few days, but even a few minutes under those circumstances would be too much.  She’d used him, figured out what and who he was and toyed with him, making him believe she wanted him and convincing him to leave the club with her.

He’d done just that, but instead of taking her to a motel or some dark, quiet apartment where she lived, she’d taken him to hell.  To Cat, a feral vampire with a few mental issues.  Something about Ana’s gift fucked with his instincts and he’d been blinded to the fact that the house he was following her into the territory of a feral vamp’s.  Ferals—the kind of creature that Duke hunted down and killed.

Blind to everything but Ana, he’d been so caught up in her, in the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against his, he hadn’t realized the danger until it was too late.  He’d been shot with silver and in the brief period he’d been unconscious, somebody had chained him up, bound him head to toe with chains of silver and titanium—the silver drained him, burned him and ate into his flesh, while the titanium was too fucking strong for him to break away.

And that was how he’d spent the next couple of days, up until help arrived, in the form of Mary Kendall and Duke’s old friend Kane.  Somebody from his life before.  Life before the Hunters.  Life before he’d ever met up with a sad-eyed psychic—a life that had been a helluva a lot easier.

He didn’t remember much of the days he spent in captivity, beyond Ana.  Almost every damn time he swam up out of the black well of pain and weakness brought on by starvation, she’d been there, urging water past his parched throat, giving him just enough to keep him going.  A natural shifter, he ate more, drank more than a mortal.  A mortal could go a decent amount of time before starvation left them weak.  But for a shifter, a couple of days without food was enough to put him in a bad state.

For the thousandth—no, probably the millionth time, he found himself wondering why she’d made the pretense of helping him, of caring if he lived or died under Cat’s hand.  Found himself wondering why she was here—why she’d come, and why they’d allowed her to stay.



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