Friday, April 3, 2020

Friday Author Spotlight Interview with Diana Waters

Friday Author Spotlight Interview 

with Diana Waters 

  1. If you had the opportunity to live anywhere in the world for a year while writing a book that took place in that same setting, where would you choose?
Despite having lived in Japan for several years in the past, I’ve never written a book with that setting (probably mostly because so far, I’ve written only fantasy, and mostly of the alternative-world variety at that). If I was going to write a contemporary present-day romance though – and I’m not counting out the possibility – it would probably be set in rural Japan, and I know I’d go back there to live in a heartbeat. On the other hand, if I had to choose someplace I’ve never lived previously, I think it would be somewhere in Greece or Italy, and I’d write a historical fiction piece based around one of those settings.

  1. How do you come up with names for your characters?
Usually I sit myself down for a couple of hours and write down a whole list of possibilities, just based on certain sounds or meanings that I like and think will suit the characters’ personalities. Using these as a starting point, I do a whole lot of baby name/meaning searches, because I really like my names to also have some kind of historical or symbolic significance to the characters if possible, even if they’re fictional variations of the real-life names.

  1. Describe your writing space.
I currently live in a studio apartment under 250 square feet in size, so propped up on my bed with my laptop in front of me is usually my only comfortable option. I don’t like to write creatively in public, and when writing at home, my only requirement is relative privacy, relative quiet, and a soft place to park my butt with a decent amount of back support.

  1. How many books have you written? Which is your favorite?
Five so far (although the fourth isn’t due to be released for another month or so, and the fifth is still currently in the final drafting stages). I’m not sure I have a favourite though. Even though some of my books are no doubt better than others as I’ve continued to grow in experience, I’ve loved them all in their turn. If I hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have been comfortable having them published in the first place.

  1. Does one of your main characters hold a special place in your heart? If so, why?
Probably Daymon from my very first book, A Trust to Follow. He was the first character I envisioned for the story, and although I never base any of my characters on people I actually know (myself included), in many ways, Daymon is probably the most similar to how I usually see myself – bookish, on the shyer side, not especially confident in his abilities, but willing to put his trust in those who prove themselves faithful and don’t think of him as weak, even in those moments where he doesn’t view himself as a strong person.

  1. Are you working on anything at the present you would like to share with your readers about?
Right now I’m working on that final draft of the book I mentioned earlier – it’s about a rather snarky incubus and a too-curious-for-his-own-good magician’s apprentice. I don’t want to give too much away (especially since it’s still technically in draft form and some things are subject to change), but let’s just say this particular WIP involves a newly instated apprentice, a secret book, and several spells that don’t work quite in the way they’re intended.

  1. What are you reading now?
It’s long overdue since I read the first and second books some time ago, but I’m currently reading the third book in Enlightenment, the M/M historical fiction series by Joanna Chambers. If there’s any genre of M/M I like just as much as fantasy or paranormal, its historical fiction.

  1. What famous author do you wish would be your mentor?
Nobody. Not because I don’t have any favourite authors or don’t think I could learn from them – far from it! – but because I’d probably be way too intimidated and be paralyzed into inactivity – the old “better to write nothing than write something horribly disappointing” mentality, which as I’m sure we all know, does not serve any writer well.

  1. What do you like to do when you are not writing?
I love to swim. I’m an ex-competitive swimmer from way back, so while I no longer compete now (at least, not to a very high level), I adore being in and around the water and keeping fit that way. Typically, I like to lap swim about 3 times a week.

  1. Would you rather be in a room full of snakes or a room full of spiders?
I’ll wrangle them snakes any day – spiders scare the bejesus out of me, even when I know perfectly well they’re of the harmless variety. Then again, I’ve never had to really deal with snakes before. We don’t have any at all in New Zealand, and in Japan, I never had any invade my house (though I did occasionally see one in school, since I taught English in a very rural area. The kids usually chased them back outside).

  1. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?

Travel. I’m not saying that any particular place or country inspires the actual stories I write, but for whatever reason, living overseas did inspire me to finally write at all. Maybe it was about being tossed way out of my comfort zone, or maybe it was just about being in a brand new space. Whatever it was, it definitely lit a creative fire under my ass.

  1. What is your favorite curse word?

I don’t have any single favourite curse word, but I do like it when people combine a curse word with something else to create a new insult. Whoever invented “fuck-knuckle” (which is apparently mostly a New Zealand and Australia thing) also deserves a round of applause, I feel. 

  1. What sound or noise do you love?

I love the sound of waves crashing on the shore, either from close up or far away, and of rain drumming on the roof at night, and windchimes ringing in the breeze, especially on a hot summer’s day or evening. To work or write to, I like either complete silence or soft, non-lyrical music playing in the background – think calm, casual and slow-paced, like lo-fi hip-hop or jazz-hop. In fact, that’s what I’m listening to as I write down these answers.

  1. What sound or noise do you hate?

This goes for writing or otherwise – I just don’t like very loud, sudden noises, especially shouting, doorbells buzzing, phones ringing or cars revving/backfiring.

  1. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

Not that I’d ever actually want to run my own business (I think the stress of that would probably do me in), but aside from the actual day-to-day financial operations part, running my own used bookstore sounds pretty cool to me. Naturally, said bookstore would come with plenty of spirally staircases, artfully carved gargoyle statues and secret little reading nooks. I’d stock only the weird and indie stuff, of course.

  1. What profession would you not like to do?

Accounting. Ew. The thought of anything involving too many numbers frankly terrifies me. 

  1. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

I’d want God to be the type of guy (or gal) who’s deliberately casual and prefers to avoid fuss. You know, not much one for fanfare? Possibly also a chill surfer. So I’d imagine him just saying something like, “Hey, brah. You made it. Nice one,” before waving me on in like it ain’t no thang.

Author Bio:

Diana is an M/M romance author from New Zealand, although she currently resides in New York and has previously also lived in Japan and Thailand. She has no idea where in the world she’ll be this time next year and is pretty okay with that. Other than reading and writing, her main passions include travel, amateur photography and competitive swimming.   Author Amazon link: Author Facebook link: Author BookBub link: Author Goodreads link:


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Thursday, April 2, 2020

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ Renewed ~ Maggie Blackbird

When two former enemies fall in love, family secrets threaten to destroy their fragile union and everything they hold dear.

With their extreme ideas about traditional Ojibway life, the radical Kabatay clan have made enemies in their fight to rid the reserve of Western culture and its religion. Disowned by her family for daring to love the church deacon’s eldest son, Jude, Raven Kabatay longs to put an end to the feud started by her mother, brother, and sisters against the Matawapits…people she’s come to think of as her own since Jude changed her life.

Jude Matawapit suffered a humiliating divorce after his wife left him for another man, but with Raven, he’s created a beautiful, new sanctuary after losing his previous one, and his new haven is everything he’s ever wanted for himself and his children. Only two things could destroy his pristine bliss: the secret he holds close to his chest, and the vengeance Raven’s family wants to exact on the Matawapits. A secret and vengeance that could cost the unlikely lovers their hard-won, much longed for happily ever after.

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Excerpt ~ 

By eleven o’clock this evening, Jude would learn whether his brother-in-law or a man who despised his family and aimed to rework the reserve into a dictatorship would become chief of Ottertail Lake. Although the rich scent of coffee beckoned him to pick his mug off the desk and sip, the tightness in his gut forced him to rise from the high-back chair.

He slid his hands into his pants pockets and stood at the window. Snow covered the school parking lot. Winter was refusing to call it a day and let spring take over.

The office door opened. Jude didn’t have to turn around to see who’d bypassed his secretary—his brother-in-law.

“Did you go to the community center and put an X by my name yet?” A hint of concern lurked in Darryl’s question.

“Not yet.” Jude leaned against the windowsill.

Carrying a mug full of coffee he’d readied at the side bar, Darryl plopped in the chair facing Jude’s desk. “How’s Raven doing?”

“Good, but I think she’s a little lonely.” Jude pushed off the windowsill and sat at his desk.

“Y’mean Clayton still hasn’t tried to talk to her?” Darryl asked in disbelief.

Jude shook his head.

“I thought he might’ve come around when he backed off at the forum.”

“She hasn’t heard anything from them. None of her family’s been around.”

“Then I guess they’re still on the warpath.” The expression on Darryl’s face was a man experiencing a migraine headache. “If I don’t make chief—”

“You’ll win.” Jude crossed his fingers beneath the desk, since he couldn’t sign the cross as all Catholics did. Doing so might unnerve Darryl, and as his campaign manager, Jude’s job was to keep his brother-in-law as relaxed as possible today.

“I dunno, man. Clayton’s change in attitude at the forum really impressed everyone.” Darryl drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“His new face didn’t fool me. He only agreed with you about if a leader can’t take care of his own family, he’s not fit to lead so clan Kabatay wouldn’t come across as jerks for disowning one of their own.” Jude made no attempt to hide his pfft of disgust.

“A lot of people said he seemed sincere.”

“He’s not any more sincere than a crocodile shedding tears after downing a live meal.”

“Welp, I told Em he has to vote for himself. Did you know he wasn’t gonna?” Darryl finally cracked a half a smile. “I mean, yeah, he’s voting for me for chief and band councilor, but not voting for himself? Geez.”

“Uh…that’s Emery for you.” Leave it to Jude’s too-modest little brother to put an X beside everyone else’s name on the electoral roster but his own. “Sometimes he takes fairness too far.”

“I reminded him each vote counts. I said if Clayton gets in, we’re in for a fight. We should get over to the diner. I need to feel everyone out.”

“I imagine it’s busier than the four-o-one during rush hour.”

Darryl set aside his mug. “You wouldn’t catch me driving that highway. Way too busy.”

“Where’s your zoo?” Jude stood and wandered to the coat tree.

“Outside somewhere. They came down with us in the truck.” Darryl stood, not having to bundle up because he’d yet to remove his coat or mukluks. “Em’s in the adult ed. wing. He has a lecture to listen to first. I told him to meet us there.”

Jude tugged on his thigh-length black leather commuter jacket, the one he’d worn last year when he’d still resided in Thunder Bay. The stylish coat was overdressed for the reserve, but just because he lived in the bush didn’t mean he had to resort to plaid and toques like ninety-five percent of the men around here.

“Walking over?” Jude ambled to the door. The school and diner were downtown, what everyone referred to as the main part of the reserve.

“Sure. It’ll do me good to stretch my legs.”

In a few moments, they exited the school. The three dogs converged on them, local strays Emery and Darryl had adopted.

“Hey, Bandit. How ya doing?” Jude petted her black-and-white patched coat while peeking at Darryl. “Have a good smudge when you got up?”

Darryl’s lips straightened to a line of trepidation. “All I can do is leave today in Creator’s hands. I did the best I could. So did you. You’re a great campaign manager.”

“And you’re gonna make a great chief.”

“We’ll find out tonight when the last ballot’s counted.”

Minutes later, they were at the diner and entered to the scent of frying bacon, diesel fuel, and fresh coffee. As predicted, every booth and chair was occupied. The rest of the customers stood, holding their mugs.

“I don’t think we’ll find a place to sit.” Darryl glanced around.

“It’s the chief,” someone called out.

“The chief!” another hollered.

“Laugh it up, you guys. But we won’t know until tonight.” Darryl wormed his way through the mob.

Jude followed.

Raven was at the congested main counter, pouring refills into mugs, a pink apron wrapped her tiny waist. Leggings hugged her slim thighs.

“Hey, I’ll catch up with you.” Screw waiting around for Darryl’s answer, not when Raven was in the vicinity.

Jude snuck around the counter and crept up behind her. A laugh sat in his chest. He placed his hands on her waist and leaned in, whispering, “Need any help, gorgeous?”

Raven jumped. The tail of her black braid hit Jude’s face. “You scared me. I could’ve poured coffee all over George’s lap.” She motioned at the man seated at the counter responsible for the stench of diesel fuel and sans his false teeth.

“Hey, George.” Jude nodded. He squeezed Raven’s waist. “I know what I’m doing, beautiful. I made sure you were done pouring.”

“Just for that, you can start refilling the tables.” She fluttered her false lashes and shoved the pot between his still-gloved hands.


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Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Teaser Tuesday ~ Gemini

Springhill publishing is a place where drama is created and sold for profit. When events surrounding the staff of Springhill start rivaling the dramatic pros of their authors it’s anyone’s guess what is going to happen next and who will be the latest victim.

Teaser ~

Publishing Mogul Aidan Durrant walked through the doors of the top floor at Springhill Publishing. A typical day, he had a slew of meetings, projects, and details all waiting on his review and or completion. Feeing a tingle on the back of his neck, he looked up. It was quiet, too quiet. Almost like the calm before the storm, he dismissed it walking by Chief Editor Leo Cadilli’s office.


"Yeah?" Aidan turned hearing Leo, his gruff voice typical of a man who spent years yelling over the mechanical presses in a newspaper outlet. The man had been in some part of the publishing business for over four decades. He’d hired Aidan ten years before and mentored him, encouraging and guiding every move he’d made in the publishing world.

"Did you meet with Wailand on the twenty-fourth?" Leo stepped into the hallway.

Aidan couldn’t help but cringe a little at the thought of Literary Agent Derek Wailand, "Uh...the twenty-third?"


Aidan straightened his back, searching his mind so some reason Leo was asking. Any meetings with Wailand tended to be memorable if only for the migraine he always endured after. "I don't think so, what was it about?"

"I don't know."

Aidan nodded his head. "Tess would know for sure. What's up?"

"Nothing." Leo put his hands in his pockets, his short stature only adding to his commanding presence. "Just let me know okay?"

"Yeah sure."

"You ready for today?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Good. You pull this off and you can start writing the checks."

"Goals are good.”

“Results are better."


Leo retreated into his office and Aidan racked his brain for the events of the twenty-fourth. He stopped at the coffee machine pouring himself a cup. He then walked into the office and his executive assistant aka partner in crime, Tess Winters entered the office seconds after him.


"Good morning Aidan," Tess picked up a file from his desk. "You have staff in forty."

"Yes, I do." Aidan looked over the items he'd left scattered across the desk from the night before beginning to feel a little overwhelmed.

"When you get back, we can start on the galleys for the tenth, I've already gone through everything up until then."

"You have?"



"This morning." Tess walked out of the office and then back in, Eileen, a marketing staffer followed. Tess focused on her tablet, picked up the phone on his desk dialing a number before turning to Eileen. "Make sure you make it for three. It can't conflict with the GC lockdown."

Aidan scratched the back of his neck, attempting to keep up with the flood of activity. Normally he could ignore the distraction of business but today that was not the case. "What time did you get here?"

"Five." Tess glanced at the phone, handing him the receiver. “Ben Weaver, contract change for the summit.”

“Crap. You can handle him, can’t you?”

“No, I can’t. He’ll only talk to you.” Tess put the phone in his hand and moved to the credenza behind him collecting files.

Aidan started to reach for the hold button but stopped. "Tess, what were you doing here at five am?"

"There is a lot to do before The Summit, I decided to get a head start."

Tess turned and started out of the office. "Tess."


“Yeah, I know. He can wait a minute.”


"Did I meet with Wailand on the twenty-third?"

"It was the twenty-fourth, and no."

"How do you know that?"

“Aidan, talk to Weaver.”

“Fine, but don’t disappear.” Aidan engaged Ben Weaver the owner of the resort they would be holding Springhill’s Author Summit.

An annual event, it took months of planning and prepping. Seven days of speeches, workshops, dining, networking and schmoozing. It was the best of times and the worst of times.

Twelve minutes later Aidan appeared in the door of his office looking for Tess. He found her balancing a stack of files in her arms and a tablet in her hand. She handed Aidan the tablet and a file off the top of the stack.

"Tess do you have the Summit schedule?" Clara, a new intern asked, taking a stance just behind where she stood.

"Yeah." Tess turned to Clara retrieving the needed file out of the stack of files she held. "Don't schedule anything on the twelfth we’re already booked." Clara took the file and disappeared.

"Maggie, can you crunch the Dennison numbers for me?" Aidan requested to a support staffer two desks form where they stood.

"Sure." Maggie nodded.

Aidan opened the file in his hands. "How do you know I didn't meet with him?"
"That was the day you spilled coffee on your shirt."

"I didn’t..."

"The twenty-fourth was the day after the third meeting with Ronald Lewis and we were here until four am rewriting the summary points for his marketing package." Tess leaned against the doorframe.

"That was hellish, but what does that have to do with the meeting?" Aidan asked as he watched her handle him and the rest of the chaotic office with ease. She was constantly amazing him with her ability to juggle eighteen things while having five different conversations and still manage to keep smiling.

"The next day, after you’d been on conference calls most of the morning, I came into the office to remind you of the meeting with Wailand and found you asleep at your desk. I didn't realize it until too late and you spilled the cup of coffee in your hand down the front of your shirt." Aidan began to recall the incident.

"I wasn't asleep."


"I was thinking. So why did you cancel the meeting?"

"You told me to." An intern handed Aidan a document.

"This was sent over from Ginger." The intern said.

Aidan looked at it briefly. "Are theses the GC numbers?"

"Yeah." The intern replied as she walked out of the office.

"Why would I do that?"

"What?" Focused on the file in front of her, Tess didn’t bother to look up.
"Tell you to cancel the meeting."

“You have fifteen minutes to get to Leo’s office.”

“I have twenty-three minutes. Answer the question.”

"Because you had coffee down the front of your shirt, you were exhausted and you said, I quote "Anyone who can't tell me why he wants to see me doesn't deserve to see me." Tess moved to her desk. "Kathy, can you please call Bridgett in editing and tell her that we can't do it on the sixth, but we can do it on the eighth." Kathy nodded and walked away. “Thank you!”

"I said that?" Aidan replied looking up in annoyance at her remembering the events so accurately. "I never said that."

Aidan held his breath in realization he was not only picking a fight with Tess who knew everything and was rarely wrong, but he was also calling her a liar.

 Not a good day Durrant.

He waited patiently for the wrath to begin. Today was the deadline for all things Summit and they, aka he, had a big presentation this afternoon.

"Aidan you can believe anything you want in that genius mind of yours, but there were witnesses and it doesn't matter does it? You didn't take the meeting, there were too many other things on the docket, and it got pushed off. Big deal." Tess looked back down at the piece of paper in front of her.

“Aidan” He heard his name seeing AJ, the PR director walking toward him.

"What's up?"

"Have you met with Wailand?"

"On the twenty-third?”

"It was the twenty-fourth but no, since then."

"How do you know I didn't meet with Wailand on the twenty-fourth?"

"I was here when you spilled the coffee down your shirt and canceled the meeting." AJ stopped in front of him. "Have you seen him since?"

"No, why what is going on? Leo asked me about it this morning also. I know he’s the lead for the GDC but what's the deal?"

"I don't know yet, I was hoping you could tell me. There is a buzz going around about him and I want to find out what it is. Can you try and meet with him today?"

"Is he in town?" Knowing the Author Agent resided somewhere in Arizona.
"Aidan Springhill Summit is the single most celebrated week of the publishing year. If something is potentially jeopardizing the success of the event and I don't know what it is first because of your inability to stay awake during normal working hours I will have that self-centered head of yours on a platter in the editorial hall for all of your enemies to spit on!" AJ roared at him.

"Fine, I’ll handle it.” Annoyed and sincerely terrified in the same moment. “Tess!"

"Kathy is getting him on the phone now," Tess passed the office. Aidan watched as AJ winced slightly and groaned under her breath.


"Shut up, Aidan," AJ rubbed her temple. Tess returned, looking at AJ who was biting her lip. "Do you have any Advil?"


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Thursday, March 26, 2020

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ The Merry Widow ~ Adriana Kraft

The millennium arrived with such promise—will it deliver for recently widowed Merry Delaney?
So much for all the anticipation about the new millennium. Merry Delaney’s life is still in a rut and shows no signs of changing. Sex? A fading memory, gone long before her husband actually died. Excitement? Hardly the hallmark of an accountant’s life. At forty-two, what can she look forward to?
Until her best friend takes Merry’s predicament into her practiced hands. One passionate kiss unleashes possibilities Merry never dreamed of—and she wants to sample them all. Men? Women? Young? Old? Ménage? Toys? Yes, to all, to pleasure, to making up for lost time.
Enter Chicago Detective Jim Barnes, who solicits Merry’s help with a mob funds-skimming case. Can the scorching passion that soon smolders between Merry and Jim survive the escalating mob threats of exposure? Having discovered a zest for sex, will Merry ever again be satisfied with one man?

Excerpt ~ 
The lips pressing against hers were soft and pliant. They tasted of peaches. The tip of a tongue slipped out to trace the contour of her mouth, wetting her lips. Merry Delaney leaned in toward that kiss.
It had been far too long. With eyes shut tight, she parted her lips slightly, responding in kind. A gentle sweep of passion filled her with warmth.
The peachy lips became more eager, more insistent. A hand settled over Merry’s breast, and she focused her entire awareness on the nearly forgotten tingling sensation of her pebbling nipple. Good God, she’d missed that so.
Practiced fingers wove their way underneath her top and inside her bra until they cupped a breast. Merry frowned. The kiss intensified, and she redirected her attention to tasting those lips.
An arm gathered her close. Breasts crushed against breasts.
Merry’s eyes blinked and then opened wide. She jerked out of the embrace and moved a foot or so down the length of the couch, away from her lifelong friend, Camille St. Jermaine. “What are you doing?” Merry felt her face flush with embarrassment.
Camille patted her thigh.
Merry shrank away.
“Come on, Merry. It wasn’t just me. You were reveling in that kiss. I could feel it. So why did you stop?”
Merry shook her head. Her shoulder length hair failed to provide an adequate screen for hiding. “You’re right. I was enjoying it. But we’ve known each other since grade school.”
“And for over thirty years I haven’t hit on you. I figured it was about time.” Camille blew raven bangs off her forehead. “Damn it, Merry, you can’t stay wrapped up in your self-made cocoon forever. Dan’s been gone for over a year. I know for a fact you didn’t have sex for five years before that. M.S. killed Dan, Merry. Don’t let it kill you, too. You stood by your husband. You sacrificed. You put your life on hold. Now it’s time to let go—try some new things. Take some risks. Live the life you’ve got left.”
“You’ve said all of that to me ad nauseum since before Dan died.” Merry licked her lips. “But you’ve never kissed me—never tried to seduce me before.”
“Maybe I got tired of talking.” Camille traced a pattern on the couch between her thigh and Merry’s. “You’ve known I’m bi for years. You never seemed to have a problem with that.”
“Of course not. You’re my best friend.” Merry’s voice caught in her throat. “That’ll never change. But—” Her eyes widened.
“But you never thought of me in that way.”
Merry shook her head.
“You never thought of yourself with another woman.”
“Not really.”
“But you’re not repulsed by the thought of it?”
Merry shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
Camille chuckled and placed a hand on Merry’s thigh.
Merry did not move.
“I know you pretty well, girl. Sometimes maybe better than you do. You need to take that pretty blonde accountant head of yours and go and figure things out. That’s fine with me. You know where I am.”
Camille rose to her feet and reached back toward Merry, who let Camille pull her up from the couch. Camille kept both of Merry’s hands in hers. “You need to know I’ve wanted you for years. I’m not just coming after you to get you to open up, although I hope that happens. I’m coming after you because I love you and always will.” She shook her head. “I’m not seeking a permanent relationship—we already have that. I want to taste you and let you taste me. I want to show you how a woman can love a woman—totally and completely. I even want to help you find a man.”
Merry scowled.
“Don’t look so horrified. I’m not trying to keep you for myself. I’m just trying to coax you out of that cocoon of yours, and maybe have a little fun along the way.” Camille’s dark eyes lit up. “I don’t know if I ever recall you speechless. Come. Let’s send you on your way.”
Camille led Merry to the front door, hand in hand.
Merry turned to face her friend, struggling with what to say. How could she make an exit that wouldn’t insult her best friend?
Camille leaned forward, brushing her lips across Merry’s.
Marshalling all of her strength, Merry resisted returning that kiss.
“Go, girl,” Camille insisted, “before I do something I’ll regret. Let me know when you’re ready or want to talk.”
Merry nodded and opened the door.
Camille patted her on the rear as she stepped outside.

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