exhaustedmaddie:

Shapeshifter is really rad word actually.

coz like.. SHAPESHIFTER.

look at it.

shapeshifter.

shape shifter.

i probably like it a littlebit TOO much.

shapeshifter.

Heheh.  Never thought of that! 

sinnerqueenofnobody:

 do you think authors ever stumble across fanon ships of their characters and scream

I would scream and squee and possibly cry.  I basically live for the day when I discover somebody out there is writing Shift Series fanfiction. Or drawing Leah & Drake fanart.  

humanshifter:

ellebeauregard:

Roving the tumblr-webs for fellow lovers of things shapeshifter.  There’s more of us out here than I thought! Following, following, following!  

*leaps up*

my time to shine

*goes to put sunglasses on* *accidentally punches self in face* *falls over*

Mnaha! Day = Made!  

Roving the tumblr-webs for fellow lovers of things shapeshifter.  There’s more of us out here than I thought! Following, following, following!  

humorismyweapon:

If I could have any superpower I would want to be a shapeshifter so I could turn into a mattress and just sleep all day.

Shifter humor!  YAY! 

(Source: thefatherthesonandtheholytoast)

Augury is up on Barnes and Noble!  YAY for Nook Books!  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1115360047?ean=2940016701905

“Hey, what’d you do last night?”

“Eh, not much.  Ate dinner, put the baby to bed.  RELEASED A BOOK!” 

Bam. 

Augury (Mythologicals Saga | Two) on Smashwords.com 

I’ll post updates as Augury comes available on all the other e-retailer sites. Happy Reading! 

(Those of you who’ve read DRIFT (Shift Series #3) will recognize a couple of the characters in this final snippet.)  ;)

Gabriel turned to let the others pass back into the bedroom, but took his place again the moment they’d closed the door behind them, leaving Luceam with nothing to look at but him.  She wouldn’t have felt ashamed, if it had been Zackery standing there—lying to Zackery didn’t feel like the same level of betrayal as lying to Gabriel did.  And in his eyes, she could see that he agreed.  He looked like he wanted to say something, his warm eyes full of questions, and his square jaw clenching and unclenching like he wasn’t sure what would come out if he opened his mouth.  They stood there like that for a set of moments, staring at one another, years and years of honesty bleeding into distrust because the one secret she’d ever kept from him had been the biggest she’d ever had.

Sweet mother earth was Cyvin tired of answering the what’s-going-on-with-you question.  But the fact was, three separate girls had tried their luck at getting into Cyvin’s bed tonight, and three separate times, he’d turned them down.  He’d thought going out, getting buzzed and having a good time with his usual friends-not-friends would be a sure fire way to cure his case of the missing-a-girl-he-had-no-right-to-miss blues.  His friends had noticed when he hadn’t come out for a few of days; they’d called after five nights without seeing him at their usual spots.  He’d lied and told them he hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d promised to come out the next night.  But now that he was sitting here, now that he was surrounded by the noise and the bustling people, the bass in the music rattling the breath from his lungs, he wished he was home.  Scratch that—he wished Luceam were here.  Because every girl who walked by paled in comparison to her.  And not just that none of them were as beautiful—though they weren’t.  It was that none of them had that thing—that unidentifiable glow, that slide and step that made him want to turn his pockets of all the nasty things he’d done—all the nasty things he had yet to do.  He didn’t feel grateful to any of them; didn’t feel the need to tell any of these girls thank you, or to shower them in warmth.  And what a fucking shame that was.  Because he’d really needed the distraction.