Lemons, Lemons Everywhere!

These last few weeks have been… difficult. Medical issues (the pneumonia which persisted for a loooong time), blood work, then follow-up visits to the doctor, and the big push for this ‘n that test, have a pill… No wait! have three, oh hell make it an even dozen.

Honest-to-pete, I’m not a damn petri dish where you can dump stuff to see what happens.

But there’s one thing I could get on board with because it’s been a recurring theme for years: under-performing thyroid. Every test I’ve had over the years has been “inconclusive” so it was all *wait and see*, but this time the doc agreed to a trial treatment. I’ve got a 12-week regimen to follow (one pill a week), then back for more blood work and a re-eval.

The other worrisome, and very strange thing, was a dangerously low level of Vit-D. Now, that was new. So I’m on mega-doses, along with a multi-vitamin to jack up all the other numbers. Okay, I’m good with that.

If we hit pay dirt with the above, I could see an end to the constant fatigue, the poor sleep patterns, aches and pains, muscle cramps, depression and MEMORY LOSS! That last is a big one. I’ve been “searching for words” for the last couple years, common words that suddenly go missing from my vocabulary and—as a writer—I’m here to tell you there’s nothing more frustrating than that!

And… and… and… I might LOSE WEIGHT <throws confetti in the air>

Meantime, back at the ranch, the home improvement chronicles continue. Two doors required replacement because the original install had been done on the cheap and sloppy as all get-out. And, as these things go, when you retro-fit anything, all manner of surprises and oh shits rear their ugly heads. So that’s been an interesting project over the last two weeks.

Now the fellows are back to work on the garage doors, because—once you paint something or install something new—the rest of the house starts to look a bit shabby in comparison.


And, I admit, I do so love men wearing tool belts, doing things around the property. Like… paving a small section in 90 degree weather, shirtless, hot and sweaty, using shovels to move the macadam, level it… straining…

Um *cough cough*… yes, poor guys, having to do that in the heat.

falling-off-cliff_2046653cMeantime, Amazon continues to strip reviews from my meager collection, leaving sales to tank. I’m not writing because… why bother? Why invest in stock photos, cover art, editors and promotional expenses when the market’s flooded with freebies and 99c wonders? At 35c a pop royalties, I won’t live long enough to recoup that investment.

So, instead, I’m working on putting a few titles into audiobook (again, not cheap) and hoping for the best.

I’m also migrating a few select titles to Kindle Unlimited. Why? I dunno, maybe… why not? <shrugs> It’s a 3-month commitment. I can go back to not selling everywhere else after that. Ho hum.

The newest KU offering is the Snowy Range Series:

The Eagle and the Fox—it’s a suspense-mystery with romantic elements, gay lit fic, but one thing it’s not… it ain’t no shifter tale! Honest. Folks over on Goodreads bitched because the cover suggested “shifters” although the blurb, the categories and the tags in no way, shape or form suggested shifters! But despite that…

Well, it’s Goodreads…

The other title is Timber Lake (no shifters, more suspense, a little heavier on romantic elements) where the cowboys dress like cowboys and not like metrosexuals communing with nature wearing Goretex rather than jeans ‘n chaps ‘n such (you know… authentic cowboy shit).

Yeah, yeah… another review that had me muttering… WTF?

Anyhoo, here’s the commercial portion of the program. While I’m popping pills, why not hie over to the Zon and grab a “free read,” leave a review (I love ’em all, even the ones that are “out there”), or buy it. I’m easy either way.


Now available in Kindle Unlimited: the Snowy Range Series.
#Gay #suspense #romance #western #contemporary
The Eagle and the Fox
Timber Lake

Wishing y’all peace and good health!

About Nya Rawlyns

Nya Rawlyns doesn’t write typical romance. She writes emotion as a contact sport, rough and often raw. It need not be pleasant, heart-warming or forever after. What she seeks is what lies beneath—a dance of extremes, the intersect of need and desire, and the compromises we make when pain and pleasure become indistinguishable. ***** She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science. ***** When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or three pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.
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