Heart of a Thief – Release Day, October 11th!

We all love steampunk adventures, and I have found a fellow steampunk author!

The Heart of a Thief is now available on Amazon in paperback, ebook, and Kindle Unlimited!  This will be the second book in Kathleen Bird’s series of steampunk fairytale retellings: the Isles of Miadhra.  You can find the purchase link in her bio (@birdsthewords).

Fan of fairytale retellings and clean romance?  Enjoy stories set in a world full of clockwork and steam?  Then this book is for you!  Check out the blurb below to find out more:

He needs to pull off the biggest con of his life…but he can’t do it without her.

Elian never wanted the life of a petty thief and con man. He’s desperate to quit. But there are people depending on him, and he can’t let them down. This new job could buy his freedom; but it requires a partner he doesn’t have.

Jaida is used to being just a pretty face. What she wants is to be truly helpful to those in need. When a young man asks her to play the role of his wife, she sees an opportunity to finally be useful. But will he turn out to be more than just a perfect partner?

A clean romance retelling of Aladdin set in a brand-new steampunk world.

Visit her website to learn more about Kathleen Bird

adventrilogy.wordpress.com

I’m Published! Finally.

Today, I have published The Dragonchild. It’s only taken 20 years since I started writing…… If you’re still waiting to publish, this is good news for you.

The last five years have been tumultuous. I moved to Wisconsin. I got married again. I had another kid. I got divorced. And now I’m stuck here for a while.

This has obviously taken a bit of a toll on my creative energy, but during 2020 I had a pretty great year. 2020 destroyed a lot of people? I found myself in 2020.

The moment they shut us inside our homes, I started cosplaying in steampunk apocalypse when I went to the grocery store.

I stitched the gears onto the mask myself
And then the birth of the Steampunk Elf happened…..
Who couldn’t resist being a mysterious gypsy?

Obviously after I started cosplaying regularly, the Lady of the Wood became a reality. I started wearing the pointed ears all kinds of places– including work. It’s terribly fun at work hearing where everyone is used to seeing pointed ears. It’s at the point where some of my coworkers say “I didn’t recognize you without the ears!”

2020 also produced The Dragonchild. I don’t know how or what sparked it specifically, but one day at the beginning of August, I said “I’m going to write a story about an alchemist and a dragon.” And before I knew it, the whole book was written by the end of August.

I spent the next month reading and rereading it, editing it, took two weeks off, read it again, edited it some more… and then by January I wanted it edited so I could publish it in March of 2021.

The endless waiting game of needing my editor to actually work on the book started. It never came to fruition, either. I waited most of 2021 for her to edit it. Eventually I agreed to letting Paul edit for me, and then I spent even more time waiting on him to edit it. By the end of 2021, I still had no book published.

2022 dawned. I’d been living on my own for a year, working for Amazon, when I was finally promoted to a supervisor role in March. After going from part time 20 hrs on the weekends to full time NIGHTS my writing habits changed significantly. Come June, Paul had finished editing my book, and so I was free to go ahead and start the final touches on the book.

By September my final edits were complete and I needed to figure out what I was going to do next. I sent it off to a few beta readers, they liked it as is, and thus the publishing process and picking a date arrived!

I decided to go with the cover I’d digitally painted myself, did a few tweaks to make it look interesting, and it was ready to submit to publish!!!

So! Now it’s published. It’s available all kinds of places in ebook form:

https://www.scribd.com/book/599512398

https://books.apple.com/us/book/id6443764082

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-dragonchild

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/…/the…/1142480308


And on Amazon, but the Amazon link refuses to show up……

The print version will soon be on the way, I approved the print copy I received from Draft2Digital…. I need to figure out printing it through Amazon, too, but for now it’s going to be available in print with D2D.

The worst part of all is deciding how on earth I am supposed to SELL MYSELF! Like– I don’t do that. I’m introverted, I keep to myself, I don’t talk about me…. I don’t even tell stories about me unless they’re relevant to the conversation.

Obviously this is troublesome. I must convince people to buy my book. HOW on earth does one do that?

I hope you consider buying it. It’s REALLY good. It’s a steampunk world, with dragons, and magic, full of cliche Destiny and adventure. Even a touch of romance. One might call it an Epic.

Will you take the chance on a glorious adventure in the skies? You should.

Without You

I have no words to describe the way I feel.

It’s empty. It’s disappointed. It’s fragile. It’s chaos….

We put ourselves into situations, one after the other, to remember why we never venture outside.

Locked behind glass, watching from the inside as the rest of the world moves on without you–

they survive without us.

I have so much love. I have so much to give. I have so much to share with the world…

and yet the world is fine without me.

I have a Name

I am someone.

I work hard every day, striving to leave a footprint behind me of morale and ethics.

I have a name, I’m not just a number.

I work hard, trying to carry myself with excellence, and yet I don’t think you see me.

Diminishing my light and silently fading to the backdrop is not my style, others should know they are valued.

And yet value is not your ethic, instead you push for productivity. Those around more have better chances of moving ahead— and I stay at the backdrop.

I put my name out there, watching others have better chances, I don’t understand why I am forgotten in the faces of the crowd.

It is a crowd. One I am silently working my way through, and have resigned to watch forget me.

I’m still here, among the forgotten, and I still have a name.

I wish you would use it at least once.

House of Dreams

The sound of a fall is heard through the entire room

It’s so empty, even whispers echo

I look about, tears brimming my eyes

This place was Home

It was my home

Fantasizing the memories I longed to have, I watch growing children chase past me

I can hear her on the phone with friends, getting ready in front of a fancy mirror. Her hair is long, she’s 13. She giggles and rolls her eyes, parting her lips to put on makeup.

He’s 15, with headphones and his door closed, I wonder what music he listens to as he lays on his bed looking at a magazine.

She’s 9, she plays with a golden dog in the backyard, before running to ask for lemonade.

Suddenly it changes, the 9 year old is dressed for prom, and walks down the stairs in her gorgeous dress.

And then again, the 13 year old has a band of giggling bridesmaids gathered around her in her old bedroom. She is dressed in white, glowing and ready for her big day to start a new life.

This was my house of dreams. Imagining fantasies that will never be memories.

It was ours. Perfect, charming…

And none of them will ever be.

I cry alone in my old house of dreams.

Tumbling

Alone.

I ache.

Inside I churn and toss.

This way– that way–

I created this merry-go-round.

Make it stop spinning,

Let me off.

A hole rests ahead.

And yet it seems a canyon.

I have been to this canyon before.

I cry out to you!

Screaming from the core of me.

Love me! All of me.

But you don’t hear me.

I am drenched in my tears.

I am alone.

The cavern in my chest collapsing around me.

Why do you abandon me?

Why don’t you seek me?

Why don’t you call to me?

Why do you leave me here?

Disconnected.

We are not One.

I am alone.

When I call to you, you silence me.

You do not reach back.

You put your hands on me.

But they don’t want my heart.

You want to connect with me in your way.

You do not find me the same.

I am alone.

Tumbling. Crumbling.

Dying.

My breath is faint within me.

I waste away.

End me.

Stop sending me tumbling.

Stop trying to hold my flesh,

While my heart bleeds out in your hands.

Rejection : The Common Core

I remember crying as you watched

My heart aching

Breaking down and not understanding why

I trusted you

I trusted you with my soul

You broke it

It’s never been the same since you

Rejection

A nine letter word, so tiny in the vernacular

And yet it shreds us to pieces

Our first rejection shadows us

Creating the lense we see ourselves through

One rejection after the next

We conclude it is us that is the problem

We cause others to deny our worth

We cry out for validation!

Validate me! Validate me!

Again and again to face rejection

The monsters enslaving us

Causing us to sin–

They rejected us first

And we reject ourselves ever since

We are not good enough

We are not intelligent

We are not beautiful

I am not beautiful

I am the itching scabs of leprosy

Oozing from the wounds that never heal

Loving the loudest

Loving the longest

Loving so no one knows this pain

Pushing away and building the walls to keep you from seeing the wounded animal I am inside

I’m terrified if you knew my pain you’d see that I’m a fraud

I am the perception Rejection has spoken over me

You create

You sing

You play

For I am unworthy to speak the voices and sing the notes of my Fantasies inside

Rejection visited me, too, and I had nowhere to hide

Friendzones and Endzones

I don’t want to fall in love with you,

But I don’t want you to love somebody else

Everything will change between us,

I know it’s selfish, but I can’t help myself.

You’re everything that means a lot to me

And I don’t ever want you to change

You’re my favorite regret

I wish I’d waited instead

You remind me what it feels like to be true to me

Please don’t go so far away

I know I can’t make you stay

I’m so scared that you’ll forget me

So please don’t forget me.

Love is weird, attraction makes us do things we’d never do

And we hide from those who remind us who we are

Struck down by things that aren’t true

Compulsive unspoken expectations creating scars

Causing us to hide away

Hide away, hide away, hide away

You’re everything that means a lot to me

And I don’t want you to change

You’re my favorite regret

I wish I’d waited on you instead

You remind me what it feels like to be true to me

Please don’t go so far away

I know I can’t make you stay

I’m so scared that you’ll forget me

Please don’t forget me and all we

Built inside together

You’re the only one who knows how deep I can doubt

I need you to remind me

This heartache won’t last forever

I’m so sorry for always pushing you out

You’re my favorite regret

I wish you’d fall for me instead

You remind me what it feels like to be true to me

Please don’t go so far away

You’re my favorite regret

I wish you’d fall for me instead

You remind me what it feels like to be true to me

Please don’t go so far away

I know I can’t make you stay

I’m so scared that you’ll forget me

I’m so scared that you’ll forget me

I’m so scared that you’ll forget me

So please don’t forget me

Faet & Fantasy : Nothing At All

“What other delights of winter am I missing out on?” Kiena asked Breigh as they sat together on her tier of the dell, legs dangling over the edge, and all the world growing silent with the coming night.

“A great many things.” Breigh smiled.

They were wrapped in blankets now, sipping warm cider. Kiena’s wings had warmed and flitted gently once in a while to circulate.

“That tells me rather little, don’t you think?” Her smile was bright, energetic in a new kind of way. Perhaps getting out more with someone new, to see the sights she’d never known before was what she’d needed all along.

Breigh’s eyes were fixed across the way, “Winter is among the most relaxing of times. There is no one else out, and you can hear the earth as it sleeps.”

“How is that, exactly? What does the sleeping earth sound like?”

“Close your eyes and listen.”

She did, a bit reluctantly, clasping her warm cup in both hands, holding it a might tighter as she looked into the darkness. “Now what?”

“Listen.”

Kiena did. Her ears sharpened, and she focused on the sounds around her. There was nothing there. Faint sounds of others laughing or talking around the dell, faint whispers of wind calling through the trees. But little else.

“I don’t hear anything.” She opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Exactly.”

Kiena laughed, “That’s all I get? There’s silence and that’s why it’s so enjoyable?”

Breigh winked at her, “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the silence from time to time. In fact, I think you crave it more than you wish to admit.”

“You’re not wrong. However, sometimes it’s nice to know others are around to hear you. My friends sleep during the winter.” Kiena added.

“Did you say you have friends?” Breigh cocked an eyebrow, “I was sure you said there were no friends.”

Kiena let out a laugh of disbelief, “Animals are friends, believe it or not, and I do enjoy their company.”

“I can see the appeal.”

She glanced at him a moment, soaking in the joy she felt being with him. His black hair had never been restyled after they landed, and locks had fallen out of his ponytail, swirling gently around his face once in a while when the wind blew. His crystal blue eyes turned to her, and she blushed, looking away.

He took her hand, stroking it with his thumb, “What’s wrong?”

Kiena’s lips tugged to a shy smile, “Nothing at all.”

Without hesitation, Breigh took her face in his hands, kissing her.

Taken off guard, Kiena put her hand on his wrist, and as the kiss deepened with passion, her fingers strayed to his loose strands of hair, gently weaving her fingers into it.

Breigh’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her near, and she melted into his embrace, feeling overwhelmed.

They parted and he pressed his face into her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Kiena asked.

He pulled back, looking her in the eyes. Gentle and yet strong. Serene and yet passionate. “I am.”

Kiena felt nervousness slide into her heart. When winter was over, and his colony went home, would Breigh go with them?

Breigh noticed the change, “Are you okay?”

Kiena looked down, feeling ashamed of the brief pause, “I am.” She looked back up at him, sitting up right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She took his hand reassuringly. “Nothing at all.”

“Kiss me again.” He said, putting his hand to her cheek, leaning in before she could respond.

Kiena melted again under his touch, a silent tear tracing her cheek as she let his nearness and warmth overpower her heart in ways she thought she’d never feel again.

The Lover

There was a Lover who created a garden.
Perfection displayed in brilliance.
To the trees He said, “Bear fruit of many kinds, for my Bride is coming, and she will need nourished.”
To the ground He said, “Bring forth vegetables to sustain her, and satisfy her hunger.”
To each plant He said, “Bring forth vitality, to protect and heal her sickness and ailment. She will find healing in you when complication may arise, and where I destine that you cannot heal her, I will renew her body.”
Then, He created and brought forth animals to be companion and friend, for cheer and play.
He looked in awe of the splendor of His hands and said, “All is ready, and it is good.”
Finally, crafting with His own hands, He formed the Glory of His Creation, His Bride, to live in the Garden He had prepared.
Together they communed in peace and happiness. The Lover had never been so full of joy….
But soon, the Bride was deceived by a great Enemy and cast out.
The Lover, broken and filled with sorrow watched as His Beloved drifted farther and farther from Him.
To the trees her offspring said, “Your fruit is too sweet and not good for our bodies, we will not consume it.” And they limited their children from it as well.
To the vegetables they said, “You are too high in starches, and the rest of you are meager. We do not wish to consume you, either.”
Turning to the beasts given by the Lover to be companions, they ate of their flesh and drank of their milk, abusing them to satisfy their thirsts and hunger.
When they became sick, and forced sickness on each other, they trampled down the plants the Lover had crafted, and said, “We will grind the rocks instead.” Pulling from mines and refining chemicals, using the waste from different sources-even from the dead, saying “surely these will heal us!” These did not heal their sickness, and made them worse. They dug for more stones and strained through more waste, and more of the dead, to find their cures.

The Lover watched as His Bride trampled down the beauty He had given them, overcome with sorrow and anger. He sent floods to wash out their crops, frost to ruin their trees, fires to burn their vineyards, storms to display His glory – but His Bride made excuses, “It is us, we have done this, our hands are causing this to happen.” Some yet said they themselves had managed to create these disasters to destroy each other.

So few turned to Him, delighting in His gifts.
To those who did He blessed them with health and peace, for they looked to Him and said, “Your Creation is enough for Me, and I will Delight in you, all of my days. I will eat and make use of your Garden. For you created the world in Perfection and I praise you for providing for My needs, and designing them by hand to prepare a place for Us, before you even made us.”