Immortal: The Crossing - Joy Nash

Finally, awesomely, won Nash's latest Immortal book. You'd swear when I seen the package with Joy's name on it, that it was Christmas or something. I was that excited!

What's even more funny, that I won another of her contests for the books. Since all I really need is one signed copy, not that I love Joy any less, but I really wanted someone else who loves her books and this series to win a copy, so I asked if she didn't mind drawing another name.

She told me in a chat (after complimenting my screen name visionary_druid Squee!) that the girl who won it appreciated what I did. Hopefully that'll add to the good karma. I know it made me feel immensely good.

Alright, I'm "suppose" to do a review on the book. I "suck" badly at reviews; I generally give spoilers in it. So, take this little area right here as a warning that there might be spoilers, read the rest at your own risk if you haven't read the book yet:

Manannan mac Lir, the son of a Sidhe mother and god father Lir, and the world's top musician. Then you have Artemis Black - a witch that has both death and light magic and an interesting blood lines in her ancestry.

She's really not the type of girl that he generally falls for; however, he finds that he simply can not resist her natural temptation and loses all control. Mac senses no evil in her, just this desperation that she won't gallingly confide in him.

He risks so much to help her achieve whatever it is that's compelling her... even willingly follow her into one place his life-magic is reputed to have no real effect, a place that before he'd never dream of venturing, to a place that he'd have a huge handicapp... To Hell

My belated b-day gift from an art friend!

My friend Silent Torture on Y! Gallery and Deviantart did this picture for me as a belated b-day gift! She asked me what I'd like drawn, and well, my mongrel elf (he has drow, shape-shifter, human - that's just from his mother, and demon from his daddy) Ancallin Grave

Here's the caption that went along with it:What time was it? Morning, maybe? Hells, what day was it?

And more importantly, what the nine hells was the green liquid in the glass vial?

Ancallin turned the small, nondescript piece of glass between his forefinger and thumb, watching the liquid slosh against the edges. He was pretty sure whatever it was in there wasn’t harmful. It didn’t bubble and when he uncorked the top, no rank smell emitted from it. Some leftover juice from a spell or incantation or charm…

Or stomach medicine, hells, he had no idea. There was no marking, etching, nothing to give a clue as to the content’s purpose. Anca would have, at this point of sleep-drunkness, downed the liquid in one gulp, just to see what it would do, but some fear that it was a leftover transmutation potion gave him pause. The green color made him think of frogs, and he really didn’t want to be a frog and catch flies with his frog tongue and hop around on his frog legs.

Hm. Frog legs.

Gods, he was hungry. When had he last eaten?

‘Maybe I’ll mix it with something,’ his head suggested. ‘See if it explodes. Hm. That’d be an awful mess. I’d have to clean it up. Hm.’

This, he was sure, was why the gods invented labeling.

~*~Happy Birthday to ! Belated... anyway... >> This is her character Ancallin. She wanted a picture of him "cutely disheveled" as he gets while working in his magic room.The blurb is my doing... I have no idea if that's how Anca thinks while sleep drunk... That's how I think while sleep drunk.