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11 JULY, 2022

The wild blog reader, in their natural habitat, stumbles upon the new page. Could it be? It looks like yes, it is M.W. McLeod’s July update. Let’s see what they make of it.

A frazzled-looking woman, who is neither young nor old, with unkempt hair and wide, wild eyes, comes rolling into the blog space on a wheelie chair. She clutches a stack of different-sized papers in her fingers with a white knuckle grip as she’s rolling in, past the reader and headlong into the wall. A muffled yowl comes from within the drywall she’s just turned into rubble.

The author pulls her head out of the wall among the sounds of a litany of swears, coughing and many harrumphs. After dusting herself off, she rolls back towards the blogger, looking almost put together despite the bits of particles now stuck in the rats’ nest atop her head.

“Alright. Listen up, nerds, this is my monthly update. I’m only going to say this once, so don’t make me repeat myself. Anybody who doesn’t heed that advice answers to Zangrunath, and if you haven’t met him, trust me when I say you don’t want to.”

“Anyway,” the author trails off as she stares at the batch of papers with a blank expression. Though the expression is blank, internally a panic attack is imminent as she stares at a recipe for chopped cheese sandwiches, for some reason, instead of her well-crafted monthly update. Her face begins to turn more and more red as she’s forgotten to breathe some time in the last 30 seconds or so. When she inhales, the entire room is filled with the sound and nothing else.

“All right then,” she slams her hands on the arms of the wheelie chair, forgetting about the papers in her hand momentarily. The documents go flying and scattering all about, like the aesthetic of one of those rooftop fight scenes from that one film you saw while drunk with the best friend from high school you reconnected with after a reunion, you had no business attending. “We’re doing it live. Message redacted.” She says in a high-pitched squeak.

The blogger blinks as they wonder why a robot voice came out of the strange creature of the night in front of them, but they don’t make mention of it, choosing to get this train wreck over with, the same way they would rip off a band-aid.

For some reason, both of them are screaming, but the screeching from the author is louder, for she lost her mind many years ago and has nothing left to lose besides pride and dignity. Who needs either of those things, amirite?

“Ha!” Out of nowhere, a keyboard appears in front of the author, and a screen lowers down from the ceiling, off to the side of both of the poor unfortunate souls stuck in this forsaken room. A wide grin crosses the author’s face. Her eyes become alight with distinct pleasure as she begins to type, rather than converse with another human. The thrum of fingers tapping on the keyboard fills the air with a familiar and comforting feeling.

Thank you for coming, dear readers, to my small slice of the Internet. I have a lot going on personally and professionally, and I’m not going to lie, like a Level 3 Dungeons & Dragons wizard, after a single encounter, a sandwich and a nap is looking better and better by the minute. A few items of note include, but are not limited to:

The Deals of the Damned series, formerly known as Terms and Conditions, is being re-released this month, along with a fourth new book in the series. The reasons behind all of that are too many to attempt to fit into a single blog. I’m chalking it up to a learning experience for a new author who had no idea what they were doing last year when the books were released.

Book four in the Deals of the Damned series is a stand-alone spin-off following two characters named Tarso and Lily. These two have the chemistry of potassium and water, so be prepared for a hot enemies-to-lovers paranormal romance, where a Demon Hunter falls in love with the demon he’s hunting.

In other news, this month I started a new Twitter account for a future pen name I will be using for books that end in tragedies and centre around villains and their intricacies as the main focal point. My new pen name is Maria Caiazza. She’s my darker alter ego who would sell her soul for one night stroking Loki’s hair and feeding him grapes or something equally embarrassing. Dealers choice.

For the record, please still call me Marie. When I put Marie next to Caiazza it looked weird, so I embraced the Italian heritage before it could put me in cement shoes and send me to swim with the fishes for choosing the Irish side first. Capiche? Think of us as the mob boss and their Consiglieri. Or, if you don’t like that, please insert a Tolkienesque Wormtongue reference here. Also insert karate moves here. Maybe a flippy trick? Use your imagination.

This month I plan on finishing up some projects and definitely not procrastinating anymore. Right, I’m trying my best so we’ll see. Then I would love to work on some YouTube things. I’ve been thinking about my long-abandoned channel and what I’d like to do with it, so I guess we’ll see what happens there. I hope it’s something good.

Anyway, the Dragon Lady told me that I only need to write 600 words and this is well over. I’m not even sure I can successfully voice this over without stuttering a bazillion times, so let’s cut our losses, shall we? McLeod out.

“This ends your scheduled broadcast.”


MW McLeod profile picture
M.W. McLeod

M.W. “Marie” McLeod is an American multi-genre author,  forged in the fiery pits of Hell. Aka Phoenix, Arizona. She is an educator by occupation and nature, always trying to learn and experience new things.

As a fantasy author dabbling in different subgenres, Marie draws inspiration from different places, people, and hobbies. From knitting to painting, movies to podcasts, and reading to D’n’D, she will try anything as long as it keeps her cup full of inspiration and coffee. 


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