1. A new site template, aided by Le Beau Page. See if you can tell what my favorite thing about the new site is.
  2. A “prize” for new newsletter subscribers. PEENVENGERS coloring pages! If you are an old newsletter subscriber, to get the seekrit link to the coloring page download, you have to email me a compliment.
  3. a crochet peen in blue yarnA new peen! He’s cute and nautical. I call him Merpeen. He’s probably for sale if you fall head over heels in love with him but until you do, he’ll be going on adventures with the Peenvengers.
  4. I can’t think of anything else new right now. Why don’t you post a comment about something new with you?

Jody & Meankitty



Now Seeking: Promo Buddies, Reviewers!

So, PRODIGAL’s coming out in a few weeks. If you would like some unique, free content for your blog, FB page, newsletter, etc, join in my blog tour!

I’m also happy to feature you or something you enjoy on my FB, blog, etc. Swapsies!

If you’d like to review PRODIGAL, it’s at Netgalley and I also have some review copies I get to give away — Know somebody else who might like to review it? Just let me know.

I’ll probably be having contests and such, so remember to sign up for my newsletter, if you haven’t already: I’m going to share the whole first chapter in the newsletter in a few weeks.

Oh, and I made a pretty with Canva:



Jody Wallace
Smart. Snarky. Seductive. And that’s just the books. *


What Bloggers and Readers Can Do To Help…Cats?

shrimpsnackHi, Meankitty here. I’ve heard that bloggers and readers are looking for more ways to help authors for free, unpaid street team labor of sorts. I know it’s your dream. So I’ve compiled a helpful list! If you want to help my author (or other authors, I guess, as long as they have cats), here is what you should do.

1) Get a cat. Having a cat will increase your intelligence. If you already have a cat, get another cat. Being more intelligent will mean that you have better taste in books and read faster, maybe, so you can read more. Reading is good — means you’re sitting down and a cat can be in your lap. If she wants to.

2) Feed your cat the best food. Tuna, steamed chicken, select cuts of prime rib — none of that crappy dry stuff! If your cats are happy and well fed, it means you will be happier. Being happier means you have better taste in books etc etc sitting down etc etc petting!

0606writhe13) Build your cat a play yard. Some call it a catio. It should be large, safe, and full of climbing toys, sunspots, comfy perches, mucho grass, and lots of birds. I do understand that not all cats get to go outside, so the catio safe-yard is a must.

4) Pet your cat as much as she wants to be petted. Supposedly this helps your blood pressure or something, I don’t know, but the cat will like it and that’s what’s important.

5) Let your cat eat off your plate if she wants to. What are you having? Make sure there’s a meat and something with lots of butter. Is that not healthy for you? That’s okay, it’s just for the cat. You can eat the broccoli.

6) Make sure your furniture is expensive and satisfying to use as a scratching post. Cheap, hard-to-claw furniture will NOT keep your menagerie of cats happy! They need their claws to be sharp in case they need to defend the household against encroachment or maybe just bat around a half-dead mouse. Don’t worry about what people who come to your house will think. They don’t matter; only the cats matter.

mkmodelnile7) Have lots of cat pans and clean them twice a day! Your cats shouldn’t have to wander all over the house in search of a nice place to relieve themselves! That’s just not humane. I hear that one cat pan per cat is a good idea. Whenever your cat uses the facilities, politely wait until they are done and then clean it. That might be more than twice a day, but you aren’t doing anything else, are you? Well, I guess you can read my author’s books while you wait to clean the cat boxes.

8) What was this list supposed to be about again? Why cats are awesome? It wasn’t? Well, let me assure you, cats are awesome. Have a nice, catty day!


Meankitty & Typist Jody Wallace *

Traitor Blog Tour Stops Archive

Summer 2015

Note: at all the “blog tour” stops during my TRAITOR release weeks, you get a chance to win a prize package!

September 12: TOUR OF THE UNIVERSE with Bitten by Romance


Crafting book 3 in the Maelstrom Chronicles

Completing Queen of Panthers, #3 in the Felidae series

Contemplating Pirates of Desire, #4 in the Mari Shu series

Complaining about the heat and humidity

Closing, temporarily, my ETSY store for earrings and inappropriate items

peeniconBWwordsContinuing to update my inappropriate Tumblr, Mr. Pinky and Friends.

Some other stuff that I hope is awesome but doesn’t absolutely HAVE to start with the letter C

TRAITOR Blog Tour Signups


Please can I come hang out with you?

I’m doing a celebratory blog tour for the release of TRAITOR and I’d love for you to be a part of it. You can sign up (I think) via the official blog tour company at

Or you can just sign up with me, and we’ll figure out what hijinks I will pull on which day at your blog.

I do have some reviewer ARCs available and am willing to share interviews, guest blogs, personalized memes, excerpts, cattifications, cattified excerpts, giveaways of the first book in the series or crocheted items, recipes, jokes, dance steps, artwork, and dream interpretations.

Your choice! Just email me. Dates are, hm, about July 28 through August 11 or so.

Jody W & Meankitty

Gratuitous cat pic


In Which I Have Great Responsibility…

Well, great spurts anyway! A huge series review on RT Magazine blog today for the Mari Shu WTF books. Check it out!

And feel free to leave a comment so I’m not the only person who commented on an article about myself. Heh.

Jody W & Meankitty *

Free Short Story: “Free Pie Day”


–For Talia

“Free Pie Day” was originally posted on a group blog. Participants on the blog took diner-themed writing prompts and turned them into short scenes and vignettes. My prompt was, “The Otherworld Diner is having a “Free Piece of Pie” day to celebrate some event. What craziness ensues?” This is the closest I’ve ever come to writing fanfic, but fear not, it’s not fanfic, not really. Most of the individuals mentioned in the story are other bloggers.


“Hey, lady, I want another piece of pie!”

I glared at the smurf-lipped kid seated in booth 17 and said, in my meanest voice, “No.”

The kid’s face scrunched up like a shar pei. He opened his pie-hole, literally, and let out a wail that would have put James Brown to shame.

“Junior, honey, don’t cry.” The mother, a pointy, thin woman wearing an expensive twin-set and pearls, shoved her piece of free pie to the screaming child. “You can have mine. It’s not on my diet.”

The kid dove in, bits of fruit and crust exploding to either side of him and littering the already disgusting table. Behind me, Brenda, our bus person, muttered imprecations under her breath about “pigs in pokes” and “no home training”.

Ah. Free Pie Day at the Otherworld Diner. Normally we balanced our staff across several shifts, but on this particular Saturday night every one of us bustled around the restaurant, doing whatever job needed doing even if it wasn’t ours. We had to. On FPD, the customers lined up on the sidewalk like we were an exclusive New York nightclub from the moment we opened until the moment we closed, at which point we shooed the unfortunate souls who hadn’t made it inside by our cut-off time.

I was usually happy to be the person who did the shooing, anxious for FPD to come to an end. At our owner Debralee’s insistence, we closed the day after FPD, so everyone could recover from their exhaustion and their hatred of the pie-eating portion of the human race.

When Elvis began to sing “Hound Dog” on the jukebox, I knew there was only one more hour until closing. We’d programmed the juke to spin up a tune on the half-hour if it wasn’t already in use. As if summoned by the King, Jeannie burst through the front door from the sidewalk where she’d been handing out free slices in hopes of thinning down the line. She shoved several empty pie boxes that looked like wolf-dogs had torn them to shreds into the oversized recycling bin by the juke.

Okay, I could do this. We could do this. Normally the staff prefers I don’t wait tables, as surly as I am, but on FPD, we needed even my help. And really, all I had to do was hand out pie. I didn’t refill drinks, take orders or get people ketchup. I just handed out pie. Pie, pie and more pie. I handed out eight slices to a bunch of slavering mongrels who couldn’t possibly appreciate the subtle flavors and delicate crust of Talia’s peach delight at the speed they inhaled it. My tray bare, I sidestepped ChinaMeli and Cheryl, wait staff extraordinaire, and darted behind the counter, where Maggie was stuffing packets of decaf coffee into a canister with an irritated gleam in her eyes.

Aaaaaaand, speaking of pie, which pretty much everyone in our filled-to-capacity restaurant was doing, our pie case was empty.


“Maggie, are there any pies up?”

Maggie shook her head. “Just a couple hot beefs and a chef salad.”

Maggie had been slicing the pies Talia and her helpers baked and then placing them in our pie case for me and the other ladies to distribute. Our cook, Francesca, also had assistants tonight, some strapping dudes who kept kissing her. I peeked through the order window and saw the typical FPD kitchen madhouse but no explanation for the lack of pie.

“I’m going in,” I said to whichever staff members could hear me. Employees who braved the kitchen area on FPD were sometimes not seen for hours if Talia or Francesca roped them into service. They no longer used ropes, though, after the incident.

I pushed the swinging door cautiously and entered the back of the restaurant. Francesca and hunks were frying and chopping and stirring, and Lori was running the industrial dishwasher, her hair frazzled.

“How’s it going out there?” Lori asked.

So that’s where Lori had gotten off to. I checked her ankle to make sure there was no rope and gestured rudely towards the front. “Full of pie cretins. Hey, we’re out of pie.”

Lori’s eyes widened in horror, because running out of pie on FPD was detrimental to everyone’s wellbeing. “Scary. Talia’s out back. Actually I haven’t seen her for a while. Should we nuke the frozen pies?” We kept a pie stockpile in one of our deepfreezes — recently sterilized of a green, glowing mold that wasn’t a health hazard but did have interesting properties — for just such emergencies.

“I’m going to check on Talia first.” We probably had enough to get through the final hour of FPD, but I hated to clean out the stash. “Maybe thaw ten.”

“Gotcha.” Lori finished loading the dishwasher and disappeared into the deepfreeze.

The rear door led to a small patio where we kept our specialized brick oven. Beyond the patio was the gate to the back alley and dumpsters.

The scene that met my eyes on the patio was not what I expected. I don’t know why things that happen at the Diner continue to surprise me, but even so, this was a shocker.

Talia was standing beside the brick oven brandishing her giant spatula like a sword as two young men menaced her. The tall, dark haired one was flipping through pages of an old book in a very menacing way while the shorter blond was crumpling an empty bag of pickling salt with menacing twists.

Our pickling salt, might I add. I recognized the brand.

Surely these weren’t her helpers?

“If you take one stop closer, you’re going to feel my wrath.” Talia threatened. “There’s nothing here for you.”

Gosh, if they weren’t her helpers, I hoped they weren’t customers. I’d spoken with Tali about her occasional possessiveness of her culinary creations before, and FPD wasn’t a great day to revisit that argument. But instead of jumping in, I decided to see how she’d handle it. Maybe our practice sessions about letting the pie go would kick in.

“Don’t try to protect your fellow demon.” The taller one spread the book wide and held it in front of him, his finger on the page. “We’re sending you both back to Hell where you belong.” Then he began chanting something in a language that sounded vaguely like Latin.

I knew Talia had a tendency to adopt strays of all species, but this was the first I’d heard about her aiding and abetting a demon, not to mention being one. Anyone who thought Talia belonged in Hell had obviously never tasted her brownie cheesecake.

“Demons being protective is kinda weird,” the shorter one said. “Maybe it’s her spawn. I mean, they don’t look alike, but she could have taken human form.”

Talia shot them both a disgusted look. “It’s not a demon, it’s a dragon.”

“There’s no such things as dragons,” the blond scoffed. Then he glanced at the tall one. “Right, Sammy?”

Sammy, frowning in a way that looked habitual, continued to read the non-English mantra, his deep voice rolling out the long vowels like he really meant it.

“This has gone far enough. I’ve got work to do and you two are interfering.” Talia kicked at the circle of salt around the brick oven, and tiny pellets sprayed the two men.

The blond’s jaw dropped, and Sammy quit chanting to stare at Talia in amazement. “You’re not supposed to be able to… How’d you do that?!”

“With my Converse, you idiot.” Talia kicked more salt, and they flinched, holding up their arms to protect their faces from the crystals.

When the salt stopped flying, the blond grabbed an old, long-barreled pistol from the back of his pants, where it had been hidden under his scruffy leather jacket. “I don’t know how you were able to cross the ring of salt, but you can’t escape a bullet from the Colt. Stay back.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. A gun?” Talia exclaimed, echoing my thoughts. I girded my loins to linebacker the blond and disrupt his aim. The Diner being what it was, I didn’t want to involve the police unless I absolutely had to.

At the shock in Talia’s tone, Grim the dragon popped his head out of the back of the oven where he was supposed to remain hidden, the secret to Talia’s perfectly baked goods.

A secret we at the Diner were loathe for anyone to discover.

Blast and double blast. That explained a few things.

“Uh, Dean,” Sammy said. “I think you’re worried about the wrong demon.”

Dean shifted the gun from Talia to the small dragon, who hissed. “Badmen chasing meez through the park. I’s spit at youse!” He inhaled deeply, preparing to hack a fireball that wouldn’t help convince these guys he didn’t belong in Hell. Grim might have limpid pools for eyes, but he also had some serious brimstone and halitosis issues.

Talia clanged the side of the brick oven with her giant spatula, startling the creature. “We don’t have time for that. It’s Free Pie Day. Quick slacking and get back in there. You still owe me after you-know-what.”

With an “Ack!”, Grim popped back into the oven, and I heard the faint but distinctive rumble of dragonfire.

The blond blinked a couple times and lowered the gun. “You’re baking pies? Free pies?”

“That’s what free…pie…day generally entails.” Talia enunciated each syllable as if speaking to someone new to the language. “You two hounding Grim on his smoke break have seriously interfered with the pastry supply. Unless I miss my guess, any minute now, my manager is going to… Oh, hi, Jody.”

I suppose that was my cue it was safe to chime in without getting shot. Or salted. Or fireballed.

Sam and Dean–what were they, surf rockers?–both jumped at the sight of me lurking in the doorway.

I waved. “I came to check on the pie progress. We’re digging into the reserves and we’ve still got an hour to go.”

“Grim and I have a batch almost toasty and another ready to go in. Or we would, if somebody would quit threatening to banish us to Hell.” Talia opened the brick oven door and peered into the red, glowing interior.

“You’re not demons?” Dean asked. “Pie-baking demons?”

Sammy’s lips tightened. “Don’t be stupid, Dean. They aren’t going to admit they’re demons.”

“Nobody here is a demon,” I said in my best soothing-the-irate-customer voice. “We’re employees of The Otherworld Diner. Maybe you’ve heard of us? No? Well, we’re famous in these parts. And Talia here is part of the reason. Talia and her pies.”

Dean studied Talia, her cheeks pink from the heat of the oven, then me. He put his gun away. “She did touch the salt.”

A nod from me, and Talia slipped her giant spatula beneath the first golden brown, perfectly dragon-baked pie and floated it out of the oven. The men’s eyes followed Talia’s actions as if drawn by magnets. Pie magnets.

The sweet, enticing scent of crust and contents filled the air, and even my mouth watered. There was nobody in the world, except maybe Talia, more sick of pie than I was right now.

“Fellas,” I said, when I had at least part of their attention, “can I interest you in some free pie in return for your silence on the manner in which our brick oven gets heated? Demons, from what I understand, are evil, supernatural beings bent on taking over the world, and Grim couldn’t be further from that.”

“I could eat,” Dean said.

Sammy punched him, but he was watching the pie with puppy dog eyes as helplessly as Dean.

“Let’s get you a booth.” I took each man by an arm and urged them into the Diner. Over my shoulder, I called back to Talia. “Bake them the special pie. The caramel nepenthe delight.”

Sam’s pointy nose twitched and his lips thinned. Again. He tried to tug his arm away, but I held on tight. In a poncy voice, he said, “The word “nepenthe” first appeared in the Odyssey of Homer. Literally, it means “the one that chases away sorrow”. It’s thought to be an opium derivative. I don’t think we’ll be eating–”

“Really?” I interrupted, my eyes wide. “We’d heard the part about nepenthe chasing away sorrow. That’s why we call it that. It’s so good, you’ll forget why you’re sad.”

I led the bemused men through the kitchen, where Francesca’s assistants gave them evil glances and refused to let her so much as look at them. Out front, Brenda cleaned a corner booth. Cheryel served them ice tea and ChinaMeli distracted any other customers who might have noticed Sam and Dean got to cut line.

When the pie came out of the dragon-powered oven oozing fragrant steam like a hotsprings, I dolloped vanilla ice cream on top and set the entire pie tin between the two men, who were, quite frankly, both on the thin side.

They stared at the pie, then me. Sammy in particular looked like he figured the pie contained poison.

I grabbed a fork, elbowed them aside, and shoved a luscious bite into my mouth. One bite wouldn’t affect me, and if it did, it would only mean I’d forget how stressful FPD was and we’d have it again next year. When I didn’t turn green, choke or keel over, Dean wielded his own fork and dug into the caramel and melted ice cream.

“Wow,” he said, his mouth full. “Sammy, you gotta try this.”

More fastidiously, Sammy sampled a pea-sized crumb, but when it melted in his mouth (that’s what Talia’s crust does), he scooped a larger bite. And then another.

“So we have a deal?” I asked Dean. “Pie for silence? Anytime you’re in town, more of the same.”

“Ish good pie,” he said, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk. He grinned at me with good-natured enjoyment and added another forkful to the mass.

“Deal,” Sammy said, licking the tines of his fork.

After they finished the entire plate of caramel nepenthe delight, we kindly led them to their vehicle, a black muscle car, and whispered in Dean’s ear that he had an appointment in Wisconsin. We haven’t seen or heard from them since, although we’ve started keeping an caramel nepenthe delight on hand, just in case.


© 2008 Jody Wallace

Creativity Beyond the Word

I am blogging today to tell you I blogged somewhere else today. Like you do.

My post is about creative projects that aren’t writing and why do I procrastinate all the time? The post does not answer the second question, since it’s unanswerable.

Jody Wallace
Author, Cat Person, Amigurumist of the Apocalypse  *

My Writing Process — Blog Tour!

Step one: Acknowledge the person & site that involved you in the blog tour.

That would be the awesomely furry (because she lives with pets) Angela Campbell! You can find her books that dutifully include cats here:

Step two: Answer the 4 questions below about your writing process.

1) What am I working on?

Two things. No, three. Well, a bunch of things, but as far as new words are concerned, three things. One, the sequel to my science fiction romance ANGELI, which I’ve contracted with Entangled Publishing. Two, the next book after STALKING EVAN, which I’ve contracted with Meankitty Publishing (yes, that would be with myself). Three, a secret project with Heather Massey of The Galaxy Express, because everyone always talks about working on secret projects and I was jalus.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I’m going to pretend like this means the things I’m working on RIGHT NOW instead of some general philosophical statement, because I just found a huge cat pee stain on my mom’s futon which EVERYONE in the family thinks is not there but I can smell it, so I’m not in a philosophical mood. The ANGELI sequel is different because my post-apocalyptic world setting doesn’t have any zombies or motorcycle gangs. The Felidae story is different because my heroine and hero don’t realize there is a whole other world of shapeshifters out there and don’t even KNOW about the rules. And my secret project with Heather is different because I can’t tell you.

3) Why do I write what I do?

I like to lie without it reflecting on my moral character or leading my children astray.

4) How does your writing process work?

Are the kids around? If yes, it does not work. Are the kids at school? If yes, I fuel myself on coffee and peanut butter sandwiches and type my words in like a crazed beast before they get off the bus.

Step Three: Say who is on next week – give a 1-2 line bio and link to their website.

First, go visit Shawna Thomas today, who is posting about her process! She’s is a writer with an adoring and gorgeous husband, seven active children, a day job, huge backyard and penchant for ordering too many flowers from catalogs. You could say she never learned how to juggle with her head in the clouds. Her debut novel, ALTERED DESTINY, won an RT Reader’s Choice award 2012. Visit her blog at

Next week you need to….

1. Go see Veronica Scott, she of the ancient Egyptian romances and the science fiction romances! Her bio: “Best Selling author and “SciFi Encounters” columnist for the USA Today Happily Ever After blog, Veronica Scott grew up in a house with a library as its heart. Dad loved science fiction, Mom loved ancient history and Veronica thought there needed to be more romance in everything.”

2. Go see Petra Grayson, an avid reader buddy I’ve made on Twitter who may soon dive into the writing side of publishing. Her bio: “Petra Grayson reads romance novels and writes reviews whenever life allows it. She’s very spoiled in her house full of men and keeps busy working out, volunteering, and trying to remember what life was like as an engineer. She tries to write stories when things are quiet but so far they contain too much sex and not enough talk. Find her on Twitter at: or check out her blog”

3. Go see Jeanne Hardt, who writes historical romance and is the president-to-be of my local RWA chapter. Her bio: “Jeanne Hardt first thought she would be a famous singer until she dreamed that a college professor challenged her to write a romance set in turbulent times. When she woke up…she did! Four books and a couple years later, her dream professor is still inspiring her to pursue publishing.”

4. Go see DT Dyllin, who writes paranormal romance and loves dogs. Her bio: “D.T. Dyllin is a Bestselling Romance Author who writes in both New Adult and Adult genres. She is a member of the RWA (Romance Writers of America) and also her local chapter, the MCRW (Music City Romance Writers).”