Hollows personalization part two

I’ve signed the Truth books, the Princess books, and even the YA, Madison Avery series, which puts us right in the middle of personalizing the Hollows. Last month, I’ll offered to sign the first three titles that you ordered from Nicolas, my local store. I’ve not yet gone in to personalize them, so if you’re waiting, hang in there. Those of you who ordered any of the earlier titles, you should have them by now. If not, shoot them an email. (And if you are late hearing about my personalization push this summer, I’m sure Nicola’s won’t mind adding some of the earlier titles we’ve featured to you pile.

August means the second set of three Hollows books are available, starting with one of my favorite, A Fistful of Charms. This is the one that is set up in Mackinaw City, pulling heavily on my early family vacations. I’ll be going up there sometime this month to enjoy the fudge and cool breezes on the island. Not to mention hearing the horses 24/7. Unfortunately, unlike the other titles, you can’t upgrade to hardcover on this one. They are just about impossible to find.

Also featured this month for personalization will be The Outlaw Demon Wails, and For a Few Demons More.

Just click the images to go right to Nicola’s, and don’t forget to tell them when you order the books who you want them signed to. I’ve linked to the mass markets, but you can upgrade to the hard covers by a quick search.


Also, early heads up that I’ll be running a contest in about a month for those coveted ARCs of THE TURN. I don’t know how many I’ll have to give away, so winning will get you into a select group that I will draw the ultimate winners from. Runner ups? I am going to try my hardest to have something to give to you, too, but I don’t know yet. This is something I’m doing on my own, and I won’t know how much participation my publisher is going to give until I actually, ya, know, get there. And yes, pumpkins are involved.


To find out more sooner as opposed to later, subscribe to my mailing list. This is where it will show up first: Kim’s Newsletter


Filed under Drama Box

I think there should be a charizard

This weekend, I found out there are no less than five Pokemon in my garden all accessible from the sidewalk, so it’s no imposition. Among present are Pidgey, Nidoran, and a Bulbasaur, which I think is appropriate, as it is a garden.


I don’t actually have the game, so I’ve not looked, but I can’t help but wonder if there might be a Charmander in my office, surrounded by said garden. There’s a dragon sitting behind the desk. (And a few at the ceiling, and on the back of the couch, and even a white one under Tim’s coffee table hanging with the Godzilla we rescued from the trash, and ah, well, yeah, a Dalek.)


Knit your own: I made the pattern myself, so please be kind. http://www.kimharrison.net/Dragon/KimHarrisonsDragon.html




Filed under Drama Box

The Commons. ie, Kim’s Fan fiction. AKA Kim misses Al.

I’ve been updating my website today, and I found this. Enjoy!

Pages From The Back Room

     Al pushed the metal and frosted glass door open, the jingling tinkle hitting him the exact second the scent of mutton filled his nose. Squinting at the bohemian, dim lighting, he stepped into the rustic tavern from an interior door. His eyes flicked to the two teenagers at one of the narrow windows, both of them ignoring him as they focused on their cell phones and takeout cups of coffee. The trio sitting before the second window looked up, acknowledging him.

He’d seen the young woman in her blue homespun dress before, that bird on her shoulder and that middle class artisan at her side. Today, she had her dandy with her as well, the charismatic man wearing something even Al would call overdone: lace and velvet, jeweled dagger at his hip. The love triangle was obvious. Almost as obvious as who she favored.

Old story, he thought as he nodded to them and shut the door behind himself, thinking the gleaming modern lines looked odd beside the rough hewn timbers. Trees and mountains were visible through the windows, making him feel as if he were intruding. His suit and tie looked out of place, even if the teenagers had cell phones and sneakers, and he wondered if today he might find the courage to ask the young woman with the bird if the odd color of her eyes was born in science or magic.

But none of the earlies never talked to him or any of his contemporaries.

His dress shoes clicked loudly on the wooden floor as he went to the empty, rough hewn bar. It was awkward being the only one here, and he grunted in appreciation when the floor beneath his feet suddenly became smoother as The Commons finally responded to his presence. The walls, too, though still wood, were now paneled instead of bare logs. Though they all could—and did—come into The Commons whenever they felt like it, today was special. An arranged meeting.

The girl and boy sharing videos fist-bumped, clearly approving of the change. The boy looked common enough, and even with her purple-tinted hair, the girl wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. But the a hint of hazy light hovering over her reminded Al of an overgrown mystic.

Two sets of earlies, he thought, curious as the view outside the window shifted to plowed fields, ridged in their mechanical rows. It was unusual to have more than one group in The Commons at once, and he looked for the medieval assassin and her even more dangerous lover, not seeing them.

Taking a stool, he settled himself, picking at a protruding sliver on the bar. He didn’t have to wait long, and in a burst of noise, Ivy blew through the same door he had. Her long dark hair swinging, she jerked to a stop, lips pressed in annoyance as she found him here first. Immediately the room brightened, electric lights now showing at the ceiling. Al shifted as the rough stool under him became leather and mahogany. It looked more like a modern bar trying to be rustic now, and the trio of pre-industrial earlies sighed, clearly not appreciating it even as the younger duo plugged their phones into a socket to recharge.

Al patted the stool beside him, and Ivy made her way over, svelte and dangerous in her black pantsuit, her Asian heritage obvious.

“Crap, we’re doing this from your POV?” the woman said, her low voice still having the power to make Al’s thoughts turn to more earthly desires. Not that he’d ever touch her. Even now the woman had too much baggage. “Do you have any idea what I went through to get here first? Who do you think you are? Morgan Freeman?”

Al’s lips split into a wide grin. “Someone has to explain the shit we’re put through. And you weren’t given the gift of far sight as I was, my dear.” He reached for her hand, elegantly trying to kiss it.

Ivy yanked her hand away, and Al chuckled as she settled beside him. “I’m not your dear,” she said, gaze landing on the earlies.“What are theydoing here?”

“No idea,” he said softly, not liking that tiny bird staring at him.

The door chimes jingled again. He’d swear they were the same ones at Junior’s, and he stifled a shudder as he turned to them.

“Hey! Hi!” Jenks shrilled as the dragonfly-winged, six-inch man darted in, a glittering ribbon of silver dust spilling from him. “Sorry we’re late, but Rachel was hell bent on not narrating.”

“You think?” the slim redhead said as she came in, looking relaxed in her trendy skirt, leggings, and snappy jacket. Trent trailed behind, his hand slipping from her waist as he double checked the door was shut. “Someone else can do it for a while,” she muttered, her eyes going to the low ceiling and wooden motif. “Wow, why are we still in wood?” she blurted, her breath catching when she followed Ivy’s head nod to the earlies. “Oh,” she stammered, flushing as she gave Ivy a hug before sitting down on Al’s other side.

Trent immediately went behind the bar, his trim form bent double as he looked into the tiny fridge. “There’s enough of us here for soda, though,” he said encouragingly.

“Thank God for that,” Ivy said sarcastically, spinning her stool to put her back to the earlies.

Jenks’s dust settled as he landed on Trent’s shoulder, the two of them looking remarkably alike as they investigated the fridge. “Dude. How come we never get one with my name on it?” the pixy complained as Trent set four bottles on the bar, the rustic wood now a sleek granite.

A rich carpet scuffed under Al’s shoes as he resettled himself, appreciating the lack of mutton smell. Subdued chandeliers tinkled overhead, and cars were a soft hush of noise outside the windows. But no one would ever come in. It was all for show. The trio of medieval earlies had closed the blinds, shifting in their booth table to make room for the kids as they came over. Al’s eyes narrowed, watching them through the bar’s expansive mirror as it shimmered into existence. Something felt odd.

“Let me get that for you, Ivy,” Trent said, cracking her pop and pouring it into a squat glass of ice for her.

“Thank you,” she said, eyebrows high in question as she waved Jenks’s dust from her face, the impatient pixy darting back and forth as he waited for his share.

“Good God, Jenks,” Rachel said as the pixy waved his tiny mug about. “Give me a sec, will you?”

The banter felt familiar, and a content smile curved Al’s lips up as he looked at the bottle with his name on it. The cold was almost an ache against his hand, and his eyes smarted from the fizz as he took a gulp right from the chill plastic.

Breath held against the sting, he watched Jenks land on Rachel’s shoulder with his mini cup of pop. Behind them, that bird glared from the medieval babe’s shoulder. Turning slightly, Al focused on the glowing orb hovering over the teenagers, and his watering eyes narrowed. That’s curious.

But it had gone silent with far more than the enjoyment of a cold, fizzy drink. Trent was still behind the bar, his casual confidence and silk-lined suit making the subservient post anything but. Jenks belched, and the attentive man refilled his tiny cup from his own bottle.

“So . . .” Ivy said slowly. “Does anyone know anything about the newbies?”

Al set his bottle down, an unusual sliver of anxiety cutting between his thought and reason. Newbies. The ones who had taken their place. Forced them into retirement.

Rachel chuckled ruefully. “I don’t know why you’re complaining. I’m sick to death of saving the world. Again. And again. And again.”

“Yeah,” Jenks said, his wings blurring into motion even as he remained where he was on the salt and pepper shakers. “It doesn’t pay enough, and the world never thanks you.”

Trent clinked his bottle against Rachel’s glass. “Here, here.”

Her dark eyes pinched, Ivy made a face. “Like you weren’t the one she was saving it from half the time?”

A smile, not unusual but rare in its depth, came over Trent. “Things change,” he said, and then he blinked, startled when Rachel yanked on his tie, bringing him closer for a kiss.

“Oh, for fairy-loving farts,” Jenks complained as he took to the air to get out of their way. “Can’t you keep your lips off each other for even an hour?” But he quickly dropped back down to the pepper shaker when the bird across the room focused on him. Immediately Jenks sneezed, a burst of blue dust exploding from him.

Ivy dramatically waved it away before it could hit her drink, but Al slumped deeper atop his stool. He didn’t feel done yet. But there was little he could do. There was always someone new, younger and full of potential, clamoring for attention. That the hardest lessons were learned later in life never occurred to most people.
A sigh shifted his wide shoulders. The Turn take it. They were becoming earlies, and he couldn’t help but wonder what The Commons was going to become when this new crew began making an impact.

Rachel had gone quiet, eyes distant as she sipped her drink and thought her Rachel-ly thoughts. Knowing it had to hurt to go from star to remember-that-time-when, Al gave her hand a squeeze. She started, giving him a faint smile that lingered even as Trent intruded.

“Has anyone seen her yet?” he asked, leaning over the bar to shift Rachel’s hair behind an ear.

“Her who?” Ivy said, lost in her own thoughts.

Rachel glanced at the new door. The slab of metallic white metal had a glowing key pad next to it that Trent had ooed and ahhed over the first time he’d seen it. “Peri Reed,” she said softly, doing a good job of hiding her melancholy. “Has she been in The Commons yet?”

Ivy pushed an ice cube around with a black-manicured fingernail. “Not when I’ve been here, but I’ve seen Jack and Silas.” A sly smile came over her and she crossed her knees and leaned in over the bar. “Silas is . . . a big man,” she finished, almost sighing it.

Jenks laughed, the tinkling sound making the orb over the teenagers glow, and Rachel rolled her eyes at the woman’s obvious lust.

“Smart, too,” Al said, then softly added, “From what I’ve heard, anyway.”

“He’d have to be to keep up with Peri.” Rachel slumped. “I hear her phone is made of glass, and she can roll it up into a tube. What kind of spell does that?”

“It’s not magic, it’s science, love,” Al said as he reached out to her.

Trent bristled. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, pushing Al’s thick, ruddy hand off of Rachel’s pale fingers. “I wouldn’t mind having her car though,” he added.

“Where would you plug it in?” Rachel teased Trent. “I hear it’s electric.”

Trent’s blond eyebrows rose. “Electric? Zero to sixty in 3.5 seconds is electric?”

Al turned to the soft steps as a wooden door creaked open and another pair of earlies came in, the pre-industrial assassins making a beeline to the group up front. The elegant woman hid her strength under a full skirt, but he knew the darts in her drawn-up hair were lethal. The man beside her had a hard slant in his eyes, clearly knowing how to manipulate people as well as, if not better, than Al himself. They’re all here, he thought, concerned. “Magic would be easier,” he said as the pair were taken in at the table like old friends.

“Bitching,” Jenks said, the new word rolling off his tongue slowly as if he was trying it out.

Ivy stared into her glass. “I hear she shops by programmed, interactive simulations that look like her.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Rachel scoffed, but it was obvious she was intrigued. Or jealous, maybe.

“Science,” Al grumbled as he finished his drink. “What have we come to, boys and girls?”

“It’s a full circle,” Trent said as he poured half his bottle into Rachel’s glass. “It’s the same thing that saved both our people, Al, once you push aside the magic to what’s underneath fueling it.” His glance went past Al to the earlies. “And from what I can see, it always has been.”

Lips pressed sourly, Al pulled his gaze back from them. “I suppose. But it makes me nervous putting it right out in front like that. You watch. These newbies are not going to like us,” he said, the bitter taste of jealousy rising up hot and fast–shocking him. “They’re going to think we’re backward. Superstitious. Silly. They are going to roll in here with their fancy technology and turn The Commons into some kind of futuristic deli.”

“It won’t be that bad.” Ivy stretched to show off her lanky body, taunt with lean muscle. “After all, a good story, is a good story. The trappings of genre are just frosting to sweeten the bitter bite of the human condition.”

Al snorted. “This coming from a vampire?” he said, then jumped when Rachel kicked his ankle.

“Hey!” Ivy barked, her quick temper showing. “It wasn’t vampirism. It was manipulation, child abuse, and drug-induced slavery disguised as vampirism. Get with it, Al.”

“Uh, guys?” Jenks said, the small pixy more watchful than a room full of Chihuahuas.

Ivy’s anger cut off with a startling quickness, and Al turned, following her surprised gaze. The earlies had stood and were coming forward, tankards of ale and paper cups of coffee in their hands.

“Umm,” Rachel fumbled as she slid off her stool, clearly caught off guard when the blond woman with the bird was shoved to the front, clearly their spokeswoman. Her shy smile and hidden confidence reminded Al of Ceri. He missed the arrogant, timid woman, but if you didn’t survive to the end, you never found your way to The Commons.

“Ah, hi?” Rachel said, and the woman flushed.

“Hi,” she said, lyrical voice holding the uncatchable strength of the wind. “It’s been a year,” she said, her eyes shifting to take them all in. “We’d officially like to welcome you.”

“To The Commons?” Jenks said sarcastically.

The nobly-dressed man beside the comely woman grinned impishly. “To retirement!” he said loudly, curls shaking as he held his tankard high in salute.

As one, Al, Trent, Ivy, and Rachel slumped. Even Jenks’s dust shifted to a dull brown. Retirement. To be forgotten. To go fallow. To be lost.

“No,” the young woman said, taking Rachel’s hand and make her start in surprise. “You’re not forgotten. Not by those who hear you, find comfort, laugh, or worry for you. You did more than save yourself or the world,” she added, golden eyes riveting.

“And you’re immortal now,” the common man on her other side said, his voice slow but holding a personal strength that could only be born in great suffering. “Real,” he said, and Ivy looked up, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “Like velveteen rabbits.”

“Velveteen rabbits on fire,” the teenager with purple hair said, and the boy with her laughed and mock punched her shoulder.

“We’re glad you’re here. Forever,” the woman with the bird said, and Rachel, her smile wan but true, clinked her glass of ice and pop against her thin-walled wooden tankard.

Suddenly the middle ground was full of cups, and tankards, and elegant glasses full of melting ice as they were all extended into a circle of shared meaning. The collective shout of celebration hit Al like a slap, and he blinked fast, never having imagined that there would be more—here at the end, and he hid a smile as he watched Jenks, that bird, and the glowing orb all fronting each other suspiciously.

Conversations, new and eager, began to rise high as common ground was sought for and found, and Al pulled back to take it in and try to make sense of it. His eyes strayed to the new door, the green light softly glowing on the panel to show it was active, and he wondered who was going to come through it.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.



Filed under Drama Box

Hollows up for personalization

I’ve signed the Truth books, the Princess books, and even the YA, Madison Avery series, which means the Hollows are up next! I can’t offer to personalize them all at once, so I’m going to make them available in batches. This month, I’ll happily sign to you any of the first three titles that you order from Nicolas, my local store. (And if you are late hearing about my personalization push this summer, I’m sure Nicola’s won’t mind adding some of the earlier titles we’ve featured to you pile.

Just click the images to go right to Nicola’s, and don’t forget to tell them when you order the books who you want them signed to. I’ve linked to the mass markets, but you can upgrade to the hard covers by a quick search.

Dead Witch Walking



And yes, The Drafter is still on sale for 1.99 for your Nook and Kindle. No excuses now! You have to let Rachel go and see if her younger “sister” can cut the mustard. Rachel will always be there. Promise.😉





Filed under Drama Box

Summers are for reading, and have I got a deal

If you have been waiting because of cost, if you have been avoiding due to lack of closure on another series, if you are still stuck on Rachel Morgan, who is no longer the “baby sister” of the characters in my mind, then never mind, but if you are curious about how brains-and-brawn Silas deals with desperately loving a woman who doesn’t remember loving him back, if you can spot a manipulative boyfriend as fast as I can write one, if you doubt skill and smarts can overcome periodic, job-induced memory loss, then I’ve got a special for you that you’ll likely not see again for a very long time.

NookRight now, the Kindle version of The Drafter is on sale at Amazon for 1.99. And where Kindle goes, the Nook will follow.🙂

These are the deals, folks, and this is your summer. Make the most of both, because neither will last for long.




Also, I’ll be going in this weekend to sign those personalized copies you’ve been ordering from Nicola’s. To get in on this, scroll down the blog entries.

WaylaidCoverAlso, also, Waylaid, the Peri, Rachel mash-up is still available for .99 cents. Rachel lands herself and Jenks in downtown Detroit. Yep, I went there.


And yes, a picture of the self-proclaimed king of my yard, who was out singing this morning. He’s not liking the new pavers I put down this week to address a run-off issue, but I sure like ’em. I’m especially pleased with it because they used up the scattered pavers that the previous owners used all over the yard for things that are no longer an issue.




Filed under Drama Box

Madison Avery: personalization still available

I do NOT believe this. Yes I do. (sigh) Last night, the entire series was on sale, and now . . . back to 5.99. I am so sorry. I should have posted last night, but usually these sales last more than a few hours. So my apologies, but I’m going to post anyway because I AM still signing them to you through Nicola’s for the rest of the month. I hear they still have some Princess books and Truth books as well, and if you whine real pretty, they will slip them in the stack to be personalized as well.

Psssttt!!!! I just found out the entire Madison Avery, YA series about timekeepers and reapers and a spunky, newly dead timekeeper fighting the system has gone up on Amazon for 1.99 each.

In order: The Dim Reaper (Prom Nights from Hell) NOT ON SALE
Once Dead, Twice Shy,
Early to Death Early to Rise

Something Deadly This Way Comes.

This has been out for a while, but it’s still one of my favorites as YA was where I fell in love with reading, and I’m still holding on to that promise. They are fun, don’t-take-too-seriously, reads, but you can see me playing with time that sort of leads right into Peri’s abilities. Great summertime reads for your kids, or even yourself if you’re young at heart.

Also, I’m still running that personilazation push for these titles if you would like a copy signed right to you, click to order from Nicola’s. If you’ve ordered personalized books earlier, hang in there. It takes some extra time, which is why I don’t offer personalized books but for rare opportunities. This cycle through November is probably going to be the last time I do it.

More info on the books is at my website: http://www.kimharrison.net/TheBooks.html Scroll to get to Madison’s books.



My name is Madison Avery, and I’m here to tell you that there’s more out there than you can see, hear, or touch. Because I’m there. Seeing it. Touching it. Living it.

Madison’s prom was killer—literally. For some reason she’s been targeted by a dark reaper—yeah, that kind of reaper—intent on getting rid of her, body and soul. But before the reaper could finish the job, Madison was able to snag his strange, glowing amulet and get away.

Now she’s stuck on Earth—dead but not gone. Somehow the amulet gives her the illusion of a body, allowing her to toe the line between life and death. She still doesn’t know why the dark reaper is after her, but she’s not about to just sit around and let fate take its course.

With a little ingenuity, some light-bending, and the help of a light reaper (one of the good guys! Maybe . . . ), her cute crush, and oh yeah, her guardian angel, Madison’s ready to take control of her own destiny once and for all, before it takes control of her.

Well, if she believed in that stuff.


Seventeen, dead, and in charge of heaven’s dark angels—all itching to kill someone.

Madison Avery’s dreams of ever fitting in at her new school died when she did. Especially since she was able to maintain the illusion of a body, deal with a pesky guardian angel, and oh yeah, bring the reaper who killed her to his untimely end. Not exactly in-crowd material. It’s amazing that her crush, Josh, doesn’t think she’s totally nuts.

Now Madison has learned that she’s the dark timekeeper, in charge of angels who follow the murky guidelines of fate. Never one to abide by the rules, she decides it’s time for a major change to the system. With the help of some unlikely allies, Madison forms a rogue group of reapers who definitely don’t adhere to the rules of the heavens.

But as she grapples with the terrifying new skills that come with being a timekeeper, Madison realizes she may not be prepared for what lies ahead—unless she gets some seriously divine intervention.


I’m Madison Avery, in charge of heaven’s hit squad . . . and fighting it all the way.

When Madison died the night of her prom, she knew her life would never be the same. Now she has a powerful amulet, a team of rogue angels by her side, and the ability to flash forward into the future to see the shape of destiny. And of course, now she’s finally with Josh—a perfect boyfriend who doesn’t even mind that she’s dead.

But being dead has its disadvantages, too. Madison feels caught between the light and the dark, and between her real life and her timekeeper status. When Madison has the opportunity to get her body back—to be alive again—she faces her most difficult decision yet. If she claims it, she could return to being a normal girl—and have a chance at a real relationship with Josh. But would having the one thing she wants most in the world also mean giving up everything she’s worked so hard for?

mmPNFHcoverFive amazing authors.

Five unforgettable stories.

In this exciting collection of paranormal tales, best-selling authors Stephenie Meyer (Twilight), Kim Harrison (Once Dead, Twice Shy), Meg Cabot (How to Be Popular), Lauren Myracle (ttyl), and Michele Jaffe (Bad Kitty) take prom mishaps to a whole new level—a truly hellish level. Wardrobe malfunctions and two left feet don’t hold a candle to discovering your date is the Grim Reaper—and he isn’t here to tell you how hot you look.

From angels fighting demons to a twisted take on getting what you wish for, these five stories will entertain better than any DJ in a bad tux can. No corsage or limo rental necessary. Just good, creepy fun.


Filed under Drama Box

Madison Avery: kick-butt teen battles death and wins–sort of.

We’ve moved up to the Madison Avery series in the ongoing in-turn personalization I’m running until the publication of The Operator this late November. For this month, Nicola’s Books and I will not just sign, but personalize to the person(s) of your choice the Madison Avery series books that you buy through them. (Pssst! I’ve not gone in yet to sign the last two Decoy Princess books yet, so you can still get in on that as well.)

Madison is my official foray into YA, but I’ve always thought that the Truth books were more YA than anything else. Madison got her start in Prom Nights From Hell, an anthology with Meg Cabot, Stephenie Meyer, Lauren Myracle, and Michele Jaffe, but you don’t have to read how Madison died to enjoy the rest of the series. (I’d suggest it, though as it gives some nice background on reapers and the “magic.”)

In order: The Dim Reaper (Prom Nights from Hell) Once Dead, Twice Shy, Early to Death Early to Rise, and Something Deadly This Way Comes. They are fun, don’t-take-seriously, reads, but you can see me playing with time that sort of leads right into Peri’s abilities. Great summer time reads for your kids, or even yourself if you’re young at heart.

I’ll be signing these and any other Kim Harrison/Dawn Cook title this weekend at B&N Grand Rapids MI, Noon (6/11, 3195 28th St. SE ) but if you can’t make it, you can . . .

Click to order from Nicola’s, and if you’ve ordered personalized books earlier, hang in there. It takes some extra time, which is why I don’t offer personalized books but for rare opportunities. This cycle through November is probably going to be the last time I do it.

More info on the books is at my website: http://www.kimharrison.net/TheBooks.html Scroll to get to Madison’s books.






Filed under Drama Box