#and it feels like this blog is steadily grinding to a halt like all my others

[alia15]

Don’t Let Sunday Ruin Your Monday

I talked about this in an earlier post, but I have a love/hate relationship with Sundays.  Sure, they’re very much a part of the much-anticipated weekend but let’s be real: they’re still a “school night.”  Sundays, especially in the summer, can be fun-filled and chock full of debauchery... until you realize:

“OH SHIT; I HAVE WORK TOMORROW.”

And just like that, the party’s over.  The fun comes to a screeching halt.

A popular bro site coined the phrase, “Don’t let Monday ruin your Sunday,” essentially saying you gotta take a YOLO approach to your Funday plans and basically say screw work and responsibilities! and go balls to the wall.  

But... I’m here to tell you the opposite.  I’m here to alter the phrase and make it all lame and adult-like:

Don’t let Sunday ruin your Monday.

Last Sunday was Father’s Day, and I was coming off the heels of a few days off from work.  We had a great day lounging at my uncle’s house in gorgeous weather, sitting poolside and eating & drinking like kings.  But I looked at the time at one point and thought, uh oh.  By the time I get home it’s gonna be like 9pm.

That’s fine, except I’d enjoyed my four days off and while I was productive and got things done -- I didn’t do my usual  “Sunday stuff.”  I hadn’t cleaned my apartment.  I hadn’t food shopped.  I skipped laundry.  And immediately I went into panic mode.

I was about to start the week off on the absolute WRONG foot.  I was about to let my Sunday (and lack of doing anything to prep for my workweek) ruin my Monday.

And sure enough, it did.  Last week I felt off.   I had to order dinner out every night because my refrigerator was empty.  My apartment wasn’t up to par with how I normally keep it.  I was exceptionally tired because I ended up coming home from my uncle’s Sunday night and staying up way too late. 

My point?  Taking care of important (albeit kind of daunting) things on Sunday is going to guarantee you start the fresh new week RIGHT.   Here are some Sunday tasks you can do to ensure you don’t ruin your Monday and subsequent work week:

Food shop/meal prep.  If you’re anything like me and HATE doing this, you will do anything to avoid this dreaded task.  But any Sunday I fill my fridge with dinners for the week and prep my meals I feel WAY more healthy and organized.  Besides, I’m not getting home from work and commuting at 8pm and scrambling to figure out dinner every night (and then waiting for the sushi delivery guy, who I’m best friends with at this point).

Clean.  Do a good cleaning.  Change the sheets on your bed.  Throw in a load of laundry.  It ain’t fun, but you’ll appreciate coming home from a long work day during the week and not having to think about it.

Unwind.  I love to go out on Sundays: brunch with friends, seeing family, hitting up the beach, etc.   But getting home super late on a Sunday means I don’t have any time to decompress and relax before heading back to the grind.  Try to get home early and take a shower, throw on some Netflix and enjoy some peaceful hours before that dreaded alarm clock goes off.  Also, taking a shower and getting into those fresh new sheets you put on your bed?  SEXUAL.

Be prepared.  Check your schedule for the week -- do you have a big meeting on Monday morning you likely forgot about?  Instead of walking into work and being completely blindsided by your schedule, check it in advance the night before.  Clean out some work emails.  See if you have any weeknight plans (work or otherwise) you made it advance and might not remember. [Um, in related news: I totally forgot I have a dentist appointment at 9am tomorrow: thankfully I set an alarm to remind myself tonight]

MAKE SURE YOUR ALARM IS SET.  Is there anything worse than oversleeping on a MONDAY?!  Way to start the week off in a complete craptastic way; just frantically running out of bed and around your house like a chicken with its head cut off, simply because your alarm wasn’t set.  Better check that, fools.

And lastly, for my fellow bloggers/writers:

Do some writing/blog stuff.  Welp, in case ya haven’t noticed, things have been super quiet around here on ‘AA.’  Why?  Because I haven’t practiced what I’m currently preaching.  I’ve not touched anything blog-related on the weekend, and I haven’t had time to during the week, either.  When I am continuously and steadily updating here, it’s likely because I am using my weekends (yep, you guessed it, Sundays) to write and then I schedule posts to go up throughout the week.  Doing that means I don’t have to stress about it Monday through Friday and can spend any free time I DO have promoting and reading other people’s stuff.  Win!

There ya have it.  I know SUNDAY FUNDAY is popular around these parts, but when your Sunday ruins your Monday?  Well, ain’t nothin fun about that. 

How do you prep for your work week?

[touchmyspinebookreviews]

I am so happy to share this really cool book with you and reveal its amazing trailer! If you like the cover, wait to you see this! There is also a chance to win a digital copy of Dead Steam, so make sure to enter the giveaway at the bottom!

Title: Dead Steam: A Chilling Collection of Dreadpunk Tales of the Dark and Supernatural

Expected Publication Date: October 1st, 2018

Genre: Anthology/ Dreadpunk/ Dark Steampunk/ Horror

I would like to thank Shannanigans @ Reads & Reels and the authors for giving me this opportunity. I’m sorry for my posts being late and that I haven’t been my usual blogging self but family tragedies and hurricane florence has taken its toll to my mobile home. But enough about me, I want you to check out this trailer reveal!❤💛❤

Reader beware: to open this tome is to invite dread into your heart. Every page you turn will bring you closer to something wicked. And when the dead begin to rise from the steaming pits of hell, only then will you discover that it is already too late. Your life is forfeit. Featuring an introduction by Leanna Renee Hieber, author of the Eterna Files and Strangely Beautiful saga, DeadSteam plays host to the scintillating writing of David Lee Summers (Owl Dance, The Brazen Shark), Jen Ponce (The Bazaar, Demon’s Cradle), Wendy Nikel (The Continuum), Karen J Carlisle (The Adventures of Viola Stewart), Jonah Buck (Carrion Safari), and more… With seventeen chilling tales of Dreadpunk, Gaslamp, and Dark Steampunk, DeadSteam will leave you tearing at the pages, desperate for more. For within these pages, the dead rise from their graves to haunt the London Underground, witches whisper their incantations to the wind, a sisterhood of bitten necks hunts fog-drenched alleyways lit only by gaslight, and only one thing is certain: that dread will follow you until you turn that final page. And that sinking feeling in the pit of your chest? That fear that something is following you, watching you, hunting you? It is not for nothing. Look over your shoulder, dear reader. Watch behind you. Listen to the whispers in the darkness. But know this…it is all inevitable.

Goodreads

Purchase Links: Amazon Hardcover:

Amazon Paperback & Kindle:

UK Amazon:

Barnes & Noble Paperback & Nook:

Barnes & Noble Hardcover:

Kobo:

Booktopia: https://www.booktopia.com.au/deadsteam-bryce-raffle/prod9780995276741.html

*Link will go live Sept. 17th

Excerpt

Burke Street Station The city was frost and fog. Icy crystals formed on the windows of the train station. Breath drifted up in a hazy clouds like puffs of

smoke as Theodore tried to warm his hands, blowing hot breath onto his stiff, cold fingers and rubbing his hands together vigorously. When that failed, he thrust them back into his coat pockets, cursing under his breath. His threadbare coat offered little warmth. Drafts of wind found their way through the broken stitching and the tears in his sleeves like rats scrambling through the cracks in the station walls. A discarded page of newsprint, caught in the rushing wind, tumbled and turned in the air and landed, crumpled and torn, at Theodore’s feet. He stooped over, picked it up, and glanced at the engraving of a wanted man. Even without a skill for reading, he knew what name was printed beneath the picture of masked man on the page. Anthony Tidkins. Wanted, he read. That was one word Theodore recognized. Crimes was another, and then, finally…murder. Rubbish. The newspapers always tried to make villains out of the radical thinkers of the world. The Resurrectionists, who named their organization after the sack-em-up men who provided the anatomists with subjects for their scientific endeavors, were scientists. They had provided the world with aether, revolutionizing air travel. They had brought Prince Charles back from the brink of death. They had devised the engines for the London Underground. Anthony Tidkins himself promised to cure death. Yet the newspaper men still called for his blood. Theodore balled up the page and shoved it in his pocket. He pulled out his trick coin as he approached the gate. The station master was asleep at his booth, a little dribble of spit running down his chin. Typical. Thoedore stuck his coin in the machine, waited for the gate to open, and then, with a light tug on the fishing line threaded through a little hole in the tip of the coin, it popped back out. Easy. He was in before anybody noticed what he had done. He pocketed the coin and started down the hallway. Tap-tap, clack, tap-tap, clack, his shoes beat a rhythm on the stone steps. The sole of his left shoe was beginning to wear, and the heel of his shoe tapped against the heel of his foot as he walked. He puffed on his hands again, and peeked over his shoulder. No one was after him. He had done this trick a thousand times before. So why did he feel like there was someone watching him? Clack, tap-tap, clack. Again, he glanced over his shoulder. The odd double-rhythm of his broken shoe was suddenly unnerving in the deserted station. Where were all the other passengers? Nice folks avoided this place like the plague, especially after midnight. The oil lamps that lit Burke Street Station were so routinely out of oil that he could hardly find his own feet in front of him, but still, Theodore expected to see other passengers. But where were the other vagrants? They should be sleeping in the dark corners of the hallway under blankets made of rags. And the boys from the blacking factory should be heading home from their long shifts, fingers stained black with powders and oil. But there was no one. Only the rats skittering through rat tunnels to keep him company. Tap-tap, clack, tap-tap, clack. Another set of footsteps began to follow his own, beating out a different rhythm. A steady tap, tap, tap, tap. He paused to listen, and nothing but silence greeted him. He glanced over his shoulder. Nobody there. He continued onward, and again, a second set of footsteps started up behind him. He paused to listen. This time, they didn’t stop. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Whoever it was, they were getting closer. Closer and closer, louder and louder, tapping out a steady rhythm as they approached down the long, dark hallway. He could almost make out the solitary figure in the gloomy, hazy light, but then the fog grew thicker, and whatever he thought he’d seen was gone. The footsteps kept on getting louder, though, and closer. He turned and ran down the hallway. A long flight of steps delved deeper into the darkness of Burke Street Station, down, down toward the platform. The train was already rumbling, announcing its approach. It vibrated through Theodore’s toes to the tip of his spine, rattling his bones. He grabbed the railing all but flew down the staircase. The rumble of the train grew louder and clearer. “Shit,” Theodore cursed. Taking the steps two at a time, he hurtled down the steps and didn’t stop when he reached the bottom.

Nails on a blackboard. The tines of silverware scraping against a ceramic plate. The screaming madmen at Newgate Asylum. The anguished cry of a mother weeping over her stillborn babe. Theodore had heard these sounds all, but not one compared to the shrill screech of an automatic train rolling into Burke Street. Iron wheels grinding against iron tracks. Hot metal sending up sparks, belching out steam as black as sin. The carriages rattling and clanging against one another. The hiss of hot coal burning in the engines. The shriek of brakes as the train ground to a halt. If it went on long enough, it would surely drive a man mad. Theodore covered his ears with his hands, pressing them against his head to muffle out the deafening noise, and waited for the thundering train to come to a halt.

When it did, he realized it must have drowned out the sound of the steadily approaching footsteps he’d heard in the hallway, because he could hear them again, and they were closer. So close he half expected to feel someone’s hot breath on his neck. He whirled around, but there was no one there. Silence greeted him like an old friend. His heart hammered against his chest.

“There’s no one there,” he muttered to himself. But he didn’t sound convinced.

A smell lingered in the air, as if something foul had passed through. The smell was familiar enough, the breath of a man with rotting teeth. It was a foul, cloying stench. He spun around again, and this time found himself face to face with the man to whom those dreaded footsteps belonged.

Only he wasn’t a man. Not really.

About the Author

Bryce Raffle writes steampunk, horror, and fantasy. He was the lead writer for Ironclad Games’ multiplayer online game Sins of A Dark Age and is the founder of Grimmer & Grimmer Books. His short stories have appeared in numerous anthologies, including Hideous Progeny: Classic Horror Goes Punk, Denizens of Steam and Den of Antiquity. His short story, The Complications of Avery Vane, was awarded Best Steampunk Short in the Preditors and Editors Reader’s Poll in 2016. He lives in beautiful Vancouver, Canada, where he works in the film industry. Author Links:

Twitter @bryceraffle

Facebook: http://facebook.com/bryceraffle

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bryceraffle/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14585685.Bryce_Raffle

Website: http://www.bryceraffle.com

Giveaway Details: Bryce is giving away a digital copy of Dead Steam to one lucky winner. The giveaway will run from Sept. 17th to Sept. 20th so make sure you enter!

Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0e7c6a8f45/?

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Book Trailer Reveal Organized By:

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Dead Steam Trailer Reveal~Reads and Reels I am so happy to share this really cool book with you and reveal its amazing trailer!