Two months. Sixty-one days.
In two months (sixty-one days, one thousand four hundred sixty-four hours), Rosemary and Rue will officially Become Available In Stores. If you've pre-ordered a copy, it will be waiting for you behind the counter, or possibly already in the mail. I will be doing my best not to live entirely on candy corn and pumpkin cake (and I will also be failing, because that is just a resolution I cannot keep).
Two months.
This is so little time that it's seriously blowing my mind, because I just can't wrap my head around the idea. Two months. This time last year, I hadn't finished the rewrites on A Local Habitation, and my editor hadn't even seen An Artificial Night...and this time next year, I'll have three books on store shelves, patiently waiting for you to pick them up and take them home with you.
Two months.
Sixty-one is a prime number, the twin prime of fifty-nine.
Two months.
This really doesn't seem real right now.
Two months.
This is so little time that it's seriously blowing my mind, because I just can't wrap my head around the idea. Two months. This time last year, I hadn't finished the rewrites on A Local Habitation, and my editor hadn't even seen An Artificial Night...and this time next year, I'll have three books on store shelves, patiently waiting for you to pick them up and take them home with you.
Two months.
Sixty-one is a prime number, the twin prime of fifty-nine.
Two months.
This really doesn't seem real right now.