Well, I mucked that up, Readers.

First I burned away six weeks I did not have working with a clueless book assembler (I’ve more than covered my tearing frustrations in this blog). And even after I’d gotten hooked up with DBS (what pros – they even did a cleanup pass gratis for me), suddenly Christmas was looming just around the corner, kinda like Cloverfield.

And then, of course, there was that long-planned trip to England with my siblings which fell RIGHT across release week. And even though I got the final proof the night before we flew out, the Amazon links weren’t up so releasing the information and putting a copy up at the cafe at work wouldn’t do it, because there was no way to order (and nothing influences a customer to buy then making things difficult (i.e. Gatwick Express, Christmas day)).

As for working the site and Facebook in England while touring about, the hotel gave you 15 minutes a day of computer time (30 if you had your own computer). And this is a stodgy hotel that bills itself as a business destination. No free lobby WiFi?

So anyway, the book has been born with all the grace of a midwife fumbling a baby with a splash into the basin of warm water (and then the wheeled table it’s on rolling down the inclined road outside, baby and bathwater along for the ride in 1930’s slapstick fashion).

Help me dry these salty tears – buy a copy.