The Fantastically Demonic World of Nila N. Brown

 Hello my Lovelies! It's that magical time of the year; you know...where I love saying, "I'll go into the new year with a renewed sense of optimism and hope that this year will be the best year ever!" You know what happens - the year ends up sucking rotted monkey butt. Well, this year was no different. I went into 2014 happy that things at the j.o.b. that pays the bills were going to get better. They didn't. I went into the year hoping to have my trilogy finally published. I didn't (one book short). I tried to rally the troops for the "We're Not Bitches" thingy. Well, you know... women. I went into the year hoping to be a little bit smaller. I really didn't accomplish that one. Hell, I didn't even come close! I did manage to accomplish a lot, though. While I didn't finish my trilogy this year, I did publish two books, I made it to the Miami Boat Show despite the "Two Inch Blizzard of the Deep and...

Heart-to-heart time, my Lovelies. When you were young, you were so carefree, you had no worries, and the future was for old farts like your parents. You did cartwheels, played freeze tag, played double dutch, ate junk food until you got sick, played hide & seek, and watched cartoons Saturday morning. In the 70’s, a dollar got you a bag of Doritos, a Pepsi, a Snickers, a SuzyQ, and the leftover was penny candy. The weekends were those magical days when you weren’t chained to a desk in Ms. Richardson’s class for the five days during the week that ruined your life. The summer was freedom from the bondage of education, and you celebrated by going to the pool, cruising the park, Skate King, Six Flags, or otherwise moped around complaining about there’s nothing to do and nothing to watch. You had to be careful about telling your parents you had nothing to do; they’d FIND you something to do!  Having a boyfriend meant that the little punk up the street bought you candy,...