‘Twas the week before Christmas, and up in the Hollows . . .

The short story “Angel’s Song” will be in the next newsletter to go out. You might have seen it last year, but re-gifting is next to recycling, eh? To sign up, just click: SignUp

But I can’t let today go by without partaking in another of my holiday traditions, so from all of us at the Harrison Household, to you. Merry Christmas!


‘Twas the week before Christmas, and up in the Hollows,
Solstice bonfires were burning, to toast the marshmallows.

The pixies were snug in their stump, even Jenks,
Who claimed he was tired, and needed some winks.

So I in my parka, and Ivy in her boots,
Were toasting the season, with thirty-year hooch.

When out in the street, there came such a crash,
I thought that it had to be ‘coons in our trash.

Away to the gate, I trudged through the snow,
While Ivy just said, “If it’s Kist, say hello.”

I lifted the latch, and peered to the street,
My face went quite cold.  We were in it thigh deep.

‘Twas a demon, who stood in the headlamps quite bright,
With his coat of green velvet, and his uncommon height.

His eyes, how they glittered, his teeth how they gnashed,
His voice, how he bellowed, his tongue, how it lashed.

The street wasn’t holy, so on Big Al came,
As he bellowed, and shouted, and called me by name.

“Morgan, you witch.  You’re a pain in my side.
“Get out of your church.  There’s no place to hide!”

Like hell’s fury unleashed, he strode to my door,
Where he hammered and cursed, like a cheap jilted whore.

But Ivy and I, we circled round back,
To stand in the street and prepare for attack.

“You loser,” I shouted.  “I’m waiting for you.”
And the demon, he spun, taking on a red hue.

Ivy stood ready, and I whispered, “Okay . . .
“If he wants to get rough, I’m ready to play.”

With nary a word, us two girls got to work,
Putting foot into gut, of the soul-sucking jerk.

I circled him quick, with a few words of Latin,
While Ivy distracted him with lots of good wackin’

“Get back!” I yelled out when my trap was complete,
And Ivy somersaulted right over the creep.

My circle sprang up, entrapping him surely,
Al fussed and he fumed, like a demonic fury.

The neighbors all cheered, and came out of their houses,
Where they’d watched the whole thing, like little house mouses.

So Ivy and I, we both bowed real low,
Then banished Big Al, in an overdone show.

But I heard Al exclaim, ‘ere he poofed from our sight
“You won this time witch, but I’ll get you one night!”

Kim Harrison
December 14th, 2005

Kim and Guy wish you and yours all the best of the holiday season and a glowing new year.



Filed under Drama Box

Manic Monday coming (and my dog!)

To find out how to take part in the upcoming manic Monday to get a free audio book of the Drafter, sign up for my newsletter. http://visitor.constantcontact.com There will also be the first information on how to take part in the contest to win a drone later this year when the mass market comes out. The newsletter comes out tonight, so there’s still time to get in on this.

I’ve had a very frustrating morning watching FB share this information to 272 people in one hour because it included a link I’d shared once before, so truly, if you want free stuff, sign up for the newsletter, and then open it when you get it tonight. Otherwise, you’l miss out on the free stuff. And who doesn’t like free stuff in time for Christmas?

As for my dog, she’s back to normal, and it’s the best gift ever.




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Sorry about that

For those of you who were on subscription to my blog, I apologize for the overload yesterday when I turned my blog back on. I would have found another way or just left it off if I had known that the automated system was going to resend all those messages.

It wasn’t intentional.



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Learned my lesson well. Ri-i-i-i-ight.

If you become known for something, don’t ever try anything new, or different, or stretch yourself. Just keep doing what you’re known for if you like the feel-good feeling of a job well done. Keep the course, don’t stray from the path. Run out of ideas? Just rewrite it from a different POV. Don’t know what to do next? Rehash and remake! Everyone likes leftovers. It might be stale, and flavorless when you sit down at your desk, but at least you will have all those laurels to cushion your butt, yes? And so easy to market to. No need to do anything different. You’re hash in the literary machine grinding out hamburger.


Really? I suppose. I mean, how could someone who puts herself in other shoes six times a day, be able to write anything other than what she’s known for? Right? Yes?


But what if that writer can bring what she’s known for and flavor something old and give it a new texture? What if then?

No. You aren’t allowed because you can only speak to women who read romance and urban fantasy. Be happy there.



So . . . I guess I’m back to writing for one. Ya’ll can come if you want.



Gratiot preferred the intimacy of a low vantage point when working, thick in the stink  and noise of the street to make the moment visceral and real. The sterility of a top floor of a distant building or library window would turn his actions into a flavorless pull of a trigger, and he avoided it when he could. His vantage point was directly across from the apartment building, a mere three floors up in one of the occupied apartments. The owner was a work, but her cat was present, watching him with curious-cat eyes from the couch. His exit was simple: out the back of the building through the sky bridge connecting to the parking garage. From there, he’d hit the streets and be gone.

Quelling his anticipation, he sat atop his one-legged sniper seat, deep within the unlit room, his rifle secure on its tripod trained on the roped-off path from the building’s door to the curb. The woman was taking a U.S. wide morning show tour, and the media hounds were already baying. It was his last, best opportunity to set the world right.

The pure scent of his rifle sifted through his awareness, the perfect smoothness of its finish against his fingers like a lover’s lost touch. He’d been demoted for questionable actions in the field, but when they needed a trigger pulled, they had always come to him. This time, though, he was acting on his own, and an unexpected thrill seeped through him. It was something he’d been missing, and hadn’t even realized. Practice kept his breathing light, his motions small and sparse. He liked his position, his chances, his weapon, and his job.


Spoiler alert: He doesn’t take the shot.


Filed under Drama Box

Personalized books for Christmas


Nicolas, my local store who has done such a great job in the past handling all the personalized orders, has agreed to help me make it possible for you to get a signed book for Christmas. But only for a short time.

Cut off is the Dec 13th to get it to you by the 25th, and though there are no guarantees, that is a decent amount of time for domestic shipments.

No promises for international orders, but hey, Nicolas does the best they can to get it to you in a timely fashion. To order, go to Nicolas and tell them who you want it signed to:

Click to order

Click to order your signed book


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A little B&N love for The Drafter

Thank you, B&N, for picking The Drafter as one of your top picks for Fantasy and Science Fiction in 2015. It is truly an honor, and I appreciate this down to the bottom of my little writer heart.

If you haven’t picked up The Drafter yet, it is on sale for Nook for 9.99. If you’re looking for something really special for your reader this holiday season, they still have signed copies at the end of the link.



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New Mass Market Cover for The Drafter is in the works

New cover for mass market is awesome!  But, I can not show you yet.  However, my publisher is likening Peri to Blindspot, Minority Report and the new Agent X TV shows. Very cool!  Oh, Tim and I will be coming up with a contest for the mass market release.  More later on that.Nook


Filed under Drama Box