You may recall from other squeeful posts that I adore Angela Benedetti as PMSing women love chocolate. Her books A Hidden Magic and Emerging Magic are my definitions of kick-ass urban fantasy. Why yes, I adore me some Rory and Paul.
I also adore me some Manny, who doesn’t have his own story (yet), but plays a mean secondary role here, and Angie’s been working hard on getting his story told. I’m ready to read.
So… I am on my way to Portland, OR, where I will be spending some time with Angie, in Lincoln City on the coast, taking a course with Dean Wesley Smith, who is a guru of publishing and writing and all. I expect Angie and I will learn many things about writing and publishing, plus having a hellagood time. I haven’t seen Angie in meatspace since GayRomLit in New Orleans, so she needs to be prepared to get glomped. (Yes, I bear a curious resemblance to a happy St. Bernard. Hope I don’t knock her all the way over.)
The trouble with getting from Denver to Portland is that it requires an airplane. While being a miracle of planet shrinkage, and way faster than Conestoga wagons, air travel has its own set of pitfalls. I’m prepared to sit in a flying pilchard tin for a couple of hours, but I kind of expect the trip to be a lot like this.
Good thing I have a Kindle filled with superior m/m adventures like Angie’s Sentinel series.