Where are the giants?

They are drinking rum

There you go. More of my really bad rhymes.

I’m really just here to say that Drollerie Press Fiesta (I wanted something that starts with D because alliteration makes me happy, but I couldn’t think of anything) starts tomorrow.

Imogen Howson is my first victim. Poor thing. Tsk tsk Michelle. How come you didn’t warn your CP about me? She was terrorized into sending everything to me early and giving away chocolate by my powerful severed hands.

Then on Friday, we have the lovely Deena Fisher (not Ann Aguirre’s Deena, who is a totally different Deena). This lady wears more hats than I have fingers–and being a regular human, I have exactly 10.

Finally on Saturday, we roast Joely Sue Burkhart over the coals. Come join us. We’ll have cake while she roasts.

We are celebrating their releases, because Drollerie Press officially opens on Friday, and everything will be available at half price. We’ll have excerpts and giveaways and I don’t know what else. Maybe a calamity or two, just for the hell of it.

But in the next few hours, enter the Scavenger Hunt contest that Jennifer Cloud’s running whilst I make sure I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do. Like buy the coal to roast Joely over.

PS It’d be great if you’d bring more coal on Saturday so we can roast her really thoroughly.

PPS You’ll find me here and here over the next few days, blogging/writing my evil little heart out.