Uncategorized

“A World of Possibility” Short stories from the authors of #ASMSG |

Curious about that Hashtag you see pop up from time to time? It stands for Authors Social Media Support Group. We are a group of authors from all genres, Traditionally and Independently published, who support each other by sharing each others’ books and blog posts on social media Platforms. No trickerations, just sharing. Although, we have also been known to swap recipes, raunchy jokes, and discuss boring things like writing and publishing. 🙂

Anyway, getting to the point (I always get there eventually), our group leader Christopher Shields has compiled some short stories from some of our authors for our first ever Authors Anthology! Best part? IT’S FREE!!!!! I’m not in this one, but maybe I’ll volunteer for the next one. Help us spread the word and download your free copy today!

… sound the Siren Warning LOUD ! …warning of another Filosofikal piece from Master Gallacher …#TBSU…

Once more into the breach , my friends!

I need your help!! Yes, YOU! #ASMSG #BYNR |

Still time to vote on the scene you’d like me to read on my YouTube channel! 🙂

Genevieve Dewey

Poll

I thought it might be fun to do a reading from one of my books and post it on my YouTube Channel (and at Goodreads!) BUT! From which book should I read, and what scene? Please vote for a book then put your scene in the comments if you have a choice in mind. THANK YOU!

First I Love You (The Downey Trilogy, #1)

comments and details
·
show results
·
invite friends

View original post

backwards.

It’s Poetry Monday! Try this one by Beth Ronan.

the sacred road

i leap
head first
in anticipation
of the life waiting in store.

but for every forward movement
i am knocked back
five-hundred more.

i stand
with tears ever streaming,
worried
afraid
and losing hope.

what if the happiness
i have longed for
is attached
to a severing rope?

i feel
as if my wings
have been
clipped
broken
beyond repair.

a flightless bird
grounded
with possibilities
to which
i won’t let my mind
even dare.

so i am clinging to the tether
that holds
your heart
to mine.

feeling you
with each hiccuped inhalation
and knowing
i will be
fine.

in your arms i know
that my
fears
anxiety
will fade.

together
is in our future
that neither
time
nor distance
can take.

i look out
across the reaches
and know
the day
will come soon.

a mere moment
to build the anticipation
until i am once…

View original post 22 more words

How to Deal with a Perfect Imperfection and Expectations

All That's Written ...

“Nature needs no reason, Yet all of us have expectations and our reasons for them.” says lucy as she looks out the window and watches how nature does what it does without a need to please or expecting anything in return. “Only humans seem to need reasons to justify their expectations and demand understanding or even sympathy. What if all humans would cease to expect what they feel is how others should/could be, because their perception of the other humans is tainted with their expectations and might not be aligned with reality at all and therefor can never be fulfilled to match their expectations.” Lucy sits back and smiles, blinking at the last thought. “Just be and live the way ones story naturally flows to the rhythm of the music that sets ones pace to find that inner most peace and then, only then, one can be fully content. But…

View original post 63 more words

“Vanilla” – A Poem by @Cameron_Lincoln |

Wow! I loved this poem.

“Vanilla” – A Poem.

Sidenote: I think I’m going to make Mondays share poetry days. There should be more poetry in the world.

HER PRINCE (A Mary & Mickey Flashback)

HER PRINCE (A Mary & Mickey Flashback).

(A Flash-fiction featuring Mickey Downey, Mary Gates, and Claire Anderson Underwood from The Downey Series)

Author’s note: I wrote this flash fiction set in the late 80′s. Louboutin aficionados will know that a New Yorker couldn’t buy them before 1991.

Ah well, I hope you’ll ‘go with it’ anyway.

HER PRINCE

by Genevieve Dewey

Mary set the shoes back in the light brown box and started to place the lid on, but at the last second, set the lid back on the bed. Again.

Just one more time won’t hurt. Then I’ll give them back, she thought. Her stomach twirled from equal parts guilt and pleasure.

She pulled one pump back out of the little bag in the box and traced the high arc on the red bottom, breathing in that fabulous new shoe scent. She closed her eyes and replayed the look on Michael’s face when he had given them to her like one of those old film strips stuck on loop. He had such amazing eyes. She had never seen such a vibrant shade of green and they left little to the imagination of his thoughts. He’d said he wanted their third date to be extra special and he was going to take her someplace fancy. Or, at least, that’s what she thought he had said since she was too distracted at the time by his hands under her sweater. His warm, strong, rough, yet strangely gentle hands. She had never been particularly intelligent—nor stupid, either—but she could swear on a stack of Bibles she lost at least twenty IQ points around this man. But now that some of the haze had worn off, it did seem a little… unusual for a gift. He claimed the shoes were castoffs from a client’s wife but they had clearly never been worn, the box, too, was impeccable, and they were exactly her size. They were, hands down, the mostly sinfully extravagant thing she had ever worn, much less been gifted with. And that was, of course, why she had to give them back tonight.

But not just yet, her mind whispered and she opened her eyes with a long sigh.

Mary slipped the shoes on and stood awkwardly in them, grinning like a fool at herself in the full length mirror. She could almost imagine herself on a stage in a fabulous gown singing encore after encore. And there Michael would be, smiling and cheering the loudest… Her right ankle started to wobble and she quickly sat back down on the bed. She wore heels all the time but nothing quite this high or delicately made. She slowly slipped them off again.

Nope, she thought, put them away and quit daydreaming poppycock and nonsense.

The phone ringing in her tiny apartment startled her and she dropped the shoe she was holding in the box like a kid who stole a cookie.

“Ninny,” Mary said out loud with a self-deprecating laugh.

She threw herself across the bed and grabbed the phone, hoping against all odds and good sense that it was her mother. She had been gone six months, surely they missed her?

“Please tell me you’re not bailing on choir practice again,” Claire Underwood said without preamble.

Mary let her chin drop to the bed. It shouldn’t still matter, but they were her parents, and she was all alone, except for Claire, and maybe…

“Claire? If a man gives you a pair of shoes after the second date, that’s… ok, right?”

Claire was silent for so long Mary was beginning to wonder if her phone had been disconnected. She had paid the bill this month hadn’t she?

“Did you put out already?” Claire finally asked.

Mary rolled over and scrunched her nose.

“Well…”

“Oh my God! Are you serious?! Mary, this is New York City, not Podunk, Massachusetts! What if this guy had AIDS or something?”

Mary rolled her eyes at the hysteria in Claire’s voice. True, Claire was a solid five years older than Mary, and married, but she had never shown any signs of being a prude.

“Claire it’s the 80’s, not the middle ages. And aren’t you from Nebraska or something? Talk about middle of nowhere.”

“Mary, I’m just saying, you don’t know anything about this guy!”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sleep with him. Our first date we talked all night, and then the second date, it was just… the next thing you know… he’s just got these hypnotizing sort of eyes…”

“Oh, Lord, stop, cheese alert! And why is this the first I’m hearing of him? We’re supposed to be best friends and yet you had two dates, sex, and a pair of shoes without telling me? Are they designer? No, wait, hold on, buzz me in.”

Mary sat up.

“What, you’re here?”

But all she got in response was the click of the entryway phone being hung up.

Mary put the phone back on its cradle, ran across the apartment—which really was a matter of steps—and slapped the button. She opened the door and waited for a breathless Claire to make it up the steps. Stupid Super (as Mary thought of him) had promised to fix the elevator since the first day she moved in six months ago.

Claire stood there grabbing the stitch in her side and raised a hand, waving it wildly.

“Shoes,” she gasped. “Bring me the shoes.”

Mary laughed at the dramatic action and tone. Claire had missed her calling in the theatre. She brought the shoes to Claire and opened the box with a flourish.

“Oh my saints alive! Louboutins!”

“Is that good?”

Claire squinted her eyes and examined the shoes like a judge in court.

“Are you sure they’re real?”

“Well, how would I know?”

“Mary, these shoes, if they’re real, cost more than a month’s rent!”

“Well, I gathered that much! They reeked of expensive. So does he, actually,” Mary finished with a wide grin.

“What’s his name? Spill!”

“What about practice?”

“Didn’t want to go anyway,” Claire replied and flopped on the grungy tweed couch. She clutched her purse on her lap and practically panted like a dog at the shoes.

“His name is Michael… something.”

“Something?”

“Well he told me, but I forgot. Doorly or something. He’s some sort of finance guy for a shipping firm or something.”

“Or something? You have sex with a guy and he gives you shoes on the second date and you don’t even know his last name?”

“Well, I didn’t grill him over it or anything. I have his business card somewhere. Who cares what his last name is?”

“Right, because you’re too busy sticking your tongue down his throat. Give me the Fabio scale.”

Mary giggled. It amazed her she had only known Claire for a few months but felt closer to her than her own sisters.

“Mmmnn, he’s more classically handsome. Distinguished…”

“You mean old?”

“No! I mean, I think he said he would be turning thirty this year so only—”

“A good solid ten years older than you,” Claire interrupted, eyebrows lost in her brown curly bangs. She looked both scandalized and titillated.

Mary sat criss-cross on the other end of the couch.

“I’m going to give them back. He’s supposed to be picking me up for another date tonight and he wanted me to wear them. I’ll just wear those black suede ones you lent me instead. He won’t tell me where we’re going, just that it’s fancy.”

Claire opened her mouth but there was a knock on the door. Mary jumped up and opened it, ignoring the ‘For Pete’s sake, look who it is first’. She gaped in stunned confusion at Michael standing there in that gorgeous fur-lined winter coat of his.

“How did you get in the building?”

“Ah, well, this building is actually owned by my employer. He owns quite a number of these rentals.”

“Oh,” she said weakly, staring at his handsome features and the hint of mystery in his smirk.

“Ehem.”

“Oh! Um, this is my friend Claire. Claire, Michael.”

He nodded curtly and brushed past Mary into the room. He turned and dismissed Claire.

“Sorry I’m so early, I just wanted to do this in person.”

Mary’s stomach dropped to her toes. He wasn’t going to dump her, was he? Right in front of her friend?

“I’m afraid I have to cancel tonight,” he continued gravely. “Something’s… come up. But I hope you’ll keep my gift and allow me to reschedule?”

She felt slightly mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze and the soft lilt in his voice. His words were so formal but there was a slight Brooklyn-Irish accent to it. She couldn’t quite figure out if he was covering the streets with a veneer or was a rich man trying to seem less posh. She didn’t much care, truth be told. She just liked the way he made her feel.

“Sure, that’s fine,” Mary managed to say after a moment. “Um, I actually forgot I was supposed to go to choir practice tonight with Claire anyway.”

“Ah,” he said and pivoted back toward Claire. Claire was almost rudely staring at him with her eyebrows scrunched. “And, what church?”

“Our Lady of Angels,” Mary answered for Claire since she was still gaping at him like a statue.

Michael seemed to start a bit then frowned and looked down at his leather shoes.

“Have we met? You seem… familiar… sort of…” Claire trailed off weakly.

Michael shrugged and dismissed her once more with his body.

“I don’t think so,” he replied while looking at Mary. It was Mary’s turn to start a bit because his eyes were no longer soft and expressive like she had been gushing over in her memories. Their emerald depths were now icy cold and aloof, as was the rest of him. He reached out with a gloved hand and ran the back of one finger along the side of her face.

“I’ll call you after I finish this. Enjoy your practice,” Michael said then leaned down and gave her a brief, chaste kiss. It still somehow managed to make her lips tingle and her toes curl. Then he was out the door in a matter of seconds.

“He seems… intriguing,” Claire said after he shut the door behind himself. “And wow! The way he looks at you. Like there’s no one else in the room, literally. I doubt he could pick me out of a line up. They’d all be described as curvy nineteen year olds with milky white skin and wild, curly red hair.”

Mary giggled so hard she snorted. She leaned up against the door, trying not to feel disappointed.

“Guess you get to keep the shoes a little longer,” Claire continued with a cheeky grin. “Which means, I get to wear them!”

Mary laughed. “Do you think you might’ve met him before?”

Claire shrugged without looking up from the tennis shoes she was taking off.

“I’m always seeing people come and go at the store. Probably just saw him buy groceries once.”

“Probably,” Mary replied faintly. She ignored the stirrings of worry and focused on his kiss.

Intriguing, yes… and also, young, rich, and gentlemanly. How often did one find that combination?

Maybe her Prince Charming had finally come.

A liberating feeling.

Genevieve Dewey

View original post

To those that like to rush to judgement and place people in boxes…

Author @TWLuedke gets tied up and twisted with the #Naughtycouch girls! #ASMSG |

Hullllooooo, my dearest blog followers!

As you know, occasionally I invite authors to come and play on my blog. Sometimes it’s just a book blurb, or cover reveal, sometimes it’s an interview. Well, recently I asked fellow author Travis Luedke of the Nightlife Series to come for a visit. If some of you don’t know about the Nightlife Series, it features vampires (of the badass, non-sparkly variety), sex, violence, and sometimes smexy violence. And I say that with love. But, anyhoo, back to the point at hand, you know what this foolish man said to me?

“Ok… but make it lively.” – Travis Luedke

Oh, Travis.

Challenge.

Accepted.

___

#Naughtycouch Ladies Interview Travis Luedke

(aka Travis gets what’s cumin to him)

[Parental discretion is advised, contains adult language and overt references to sex]

___________________________

Gen: This interview won’t take long, my darlings, as I’ve asked a few of my girlfriends from the infamous #naughtycouch to help me keep it “lively”. Most of you know my go-to-girl on the couch, Bad Penny @Penelope_Prose, but I’d like to introduce you to a few more of #Naughtyville’s residents; Caroline, Cat, Beth, and Deidre known on Twitter as @CarolineD_13, @dbl_latte, @missb1331, and @laDeeDa51, respectively. When I asked them for help they all jumped at the chance to ask Travis some questions. Penny, very helpfully, suggested we do so while enjoying the festivities of summer. Don’t know about you, but here in the Midwest that means fairs and carnivals! That’s right, make yourselves comfortable because Travis will be “manning” the dunk booth. He will have to answer the questions truthfully and in a timely manner or he gets dunked. And to make sure he doesn’t chicken out–not that he ever would–we’ve tied him up. Naked. Sweet P, you can remove his gag now.

*Bad Penny chuckles and removes the ball gag.*

Travis: I don’t remember anything in your email that said I’d be naked! Or gagged. Or tied up–

*Gen ignores him and turns to Beth.*

Gen: Fantastic job with the Shibari knots, Beth!

Beth (blushing): Thanks, Cupcake. I wanted to try that particular design since I pinned it on Pinterest.

Gen: This makes a nice change of pace for some of us ladies, tying someone else up. But I’m not sure for Travis. That’s a great first question, come to think of it! Is this the first time you’ve been tied up, Travis?

Travis: Well, yes this is my first, and that rope is giving me a wedgy something fierce. Wait, does being handcuffed count as being tied?

*Gen lobs a ball and Travis goes down.*

Gen: Oh! Oops. Itchy trigger finger. My bad. My husband complains about that all the time! He’s all, easy there, Dirty Harry.

Travis: I don’t care about how dirty and harry you like your men, get me out of this water. This shit’s cold.

*The ladies all snicker while Penny pulls Travis back on the harness.*

Bad Penny: Let me do him… I mean it, Cupcake.

Gen: Oh, sure, he’s all yours. Caroline can have sloppy seconds.

*The #naughtycouch ladies all giggle. Travis groans.*

Bad Penny: Here’s my questions… Of all the characters you’ve written about, Travis, which one is your favorite, least favorite, aaaannnd why? Oh, and if you pick my favorite as your least favorite; I’ve got balls with your name on them.

*Bad Penny pretends to line a ball up with the target of the dunk tank and giggles like a mad woman.*

Travis: I got some balls with your name on ‘em girlfriend. Wait! Don’t throw it! Okay, characters. Let me see. Michelle is probably one of my favorite characters, because she’s so complex, twisted, loving, and yet so vicious and wicked. Most readers never really understand Michelle until the end of the third novel, Nightlife Paris. It’s in Paris where we learn the dark, gritty trials she survived during WWII. Michelle’s life until now has been very tragic, lonely, but all that changes with Aaron. She changes. My least favorite character would be Delia, Aaron’s ex-girlfriend. She’s a manipulator, petty, selfish, and has no real redeeming qualities. She strung Aaron along, playing his insecurities for her own malicious pleasure. Although many readers are shocked to learn what happens to Delia at the end of Nightlife New York, I feel like she got precisely what she deserved.

Bad Penny (licking her lips and fondling the ball): You know, Travis, the next time you feel like dishing out punishments—hey!

*Gen drags Penny back to the couch*

Gen: Caroline, you’re next.

*Caroline gets up and finger waves at Travis.*

Caroline: Ok, so my question to Travis, a few of your books are set in different locations. If you could pick a place to live out of them where would it be?

Travis: I think, ideally, I would choose to be a perpetual traveller. Stay in one city for 3-4 months, then move on. Each city, each country, has its own unique flavor, culture, and appeal. I would miss America at times, but then I’d come home and very quickly remember all those reasons I left. And there are many travels yet to come in the Nightlife Series: London, Moscow, Hong Kong, and perhaps Panama City (a sequel to Blood Slave).

Caroline: Why did you choose paranormal romance? Do you enjoy reading this genre? Wait… Is that two questions?

Travis: Yes, that is two questions, and I’m getting cold here. I think I might need someone to come warm me up, some warm hands, maybe a warm tongue?

*The girls snicker*

Travis: No? Just gonna sit there and stare at my junk while I shiver? I thought this was the #naughtycouch?

*Travis shakes his head as he looks down at his not-so-impressive display. Caroline raises the ball to throw it*

Travis: Paranormal Romance! … I guess I have no interest in anything normal in the way of fiction. If it’s violent, creepy, macabre, paranormal, and erotic, that pretty much hits all the happy buttons for me. And romance is the glue that binds everything together. All the great stories of the world have at least a touch of romance. Even in Greek, Hindu, and Judeo Christian mythology, the dynamics of romantic entanglements were ever present. Adam broke the rules for Eve, and he’d probably do it all over again if you gave him the chance. Helen of Troy’s romantic mess launched a thousand ships to sail across the Aegean. Is there anything worth reading that doesn’t involve romance?

Gen: Mnnn… nope.

*The girls shake their heads in agreement. Cat pops up*

Cat: Ehem, I have a question.

*Caroline elbows Cat.*

Caroline: It was my turn!

Cat: You already asked two questions!

*Cat and Caroline start tickle fighting. Beth runs over to break them up and they start tickling her, too*

Deidre and Penny: Someone needs a spanking!

*Travis grins and Gen lobs another ball at the switch. The girls stop fighting to point and laugh at wet Travis*

Travis: Ah, come on! Couldn’t you put a heater in this thing? Dunk me in a hot-tub? At least get me a couple shots of tequila. This is cold!

Gen: Oh, sorry, you looked like you were getting a little hot there. Penny and Dee, stop laughing!

*Gen hooks her arm in Beth’s and Caroline’s and they sit down.*

Gen: Don’t worry, girls, no one’s getting spanked, not even Travis.

*Bad Penny starts pouting and snuggles with Caroline on the couch. Gen plays with Deidre’s hair while Deidre massages Beth’s shoulders. Travis starts drooling*

Gen: Cat, it’s your turn.

Cat: Hi, Travis! I have read the first two books in the Nightlife series and loved, loved, loved Michelle. She appeals to my secret, hidden, inner domme–oops, did I just admit that…out loud?!! Shhh, don’t tell anyone!

*Cat turns around and vamps. The girls all giggle and stick their tongues out*

Cat (turning back to Travis): Is her character/personality based on anyone in your life or did you create her purely from your imagination?

Travis: Michelle can be very cavalier and flippant. And she has little respect for unworldly Americans that have yet to realize they are not God’s gift to the planet. I would be lying if I said I’d never met or dated a foreign woman like that. Truthfully, the inspiration for Michelle’s character came from a series of novels by Stephen Clarke, ‘A Year in the Merde’, and ‘Merde Actually.’ It’s a story of a British man fumbling through corporate Paris and his misadventures with French women. As I read those novels, I literally heard Michelle’s voice going off in my mind, cussing up a storm in French. I saw her careless Gallic shrug, and her smile that could entice a man out of both wallet and pants at the same time.

*When Cat keeps staring at Travis, Gen lobs a ball at her rear*

Cat: Hey!!

Gen: Cat, do you have another question for him?

Cat: Umm, let me think.

*Caroline jumps up from the couch and whispers in her ear*

Cat: Oh, good one, who is your favorite superhero, and if you were a superhero who would you be?

Travis: Okay, I admit, I am a bit of a comic book nerd. I watch all the superhero movies, sometimes more than once. Favorites? Don’t really have one, because so many of them are simply too cool for words. But, if I had the choice of being one particular superhero, I would probably go for Logan, a.k.a. Wolverine. He’s such badass. And its damn near impossible to kill him. He’s one tough S.O.B.

Caroline: Oh, I like that answer!

Cat: Me too!

*Cat and Caroline raise their hands to throw their balls at the same time*

Travis: Hey! You said you liked the answer!

*Travis sighs in relief as the balls bounce off the edge. Gen drags the girls back to the couch*

Gen: Beth, you’re up next.

Beth: Well, I don’t mind going easy on you, Travis. What is one scene from a book that was inspired by real life events?

Travis: There are several scenes in all my books that have been inspired by real life events: the ones where the guy screws the girl so hard she can barely walk, and she loved every last second of it.

*Travis winks. Beth raises her hand*

Travis: Don’t you dare throw that ball! Okay, Okay! Vegas! In the gambling scene in Vegas, I have actually used the numerical odds betting system that Aaron used. And believe it or not, it does work around 90% of the time, but only on Roulette and Baccarat. The other 10% of the time you lose your shirt.

*Travis winks again. Beth smiles and fondles the ball.*

Beth: What is the most blatant lie you ever told?

Travis: Ahh, that’s an easy one, but not very flattering: “I love you.” Those three words are perhaps the most abused words in the English language. We often think we mean it when we say it … but do we really?

*Beth lobs the ball and Travis goes down.*

Beth: I think I should get another. That was so obviously not true.

Travis: I love you! Now get me out of this water!

*The ladies all nod their heads at Beth and smirk at Travis.*

Beth: You have to wear a t-shirt with one word on it for the rest of your life. Which word do you choose?

Travis: Merde. It’s an all-purpose word in French which happens to cross over to Spanish as well. And it would seem an appropriate description of so many aspects of this life. Translation: Shit.

Beth: Speaking of, my ropes will need to be removed before you—

*Gen grabs Beth*

Gen: And last, but never least, Dee, it’s your turn!

Deidre: Okay… Probably not the naughtiest or best of questions. But with him being tied up and already so wet and that water is obviously cold…

*Everyone on the couch giggles*

Deidre: Stop it, you guys! The poor man.

*Deidre grins evilly*

Deidre: Travis, do you have a favorite scene that you’ve written, for whatever reason, and why?

Travis: I think my favorite scene was chapter two in Blood Slave, it’s a FF sex scene. When the female vampire, Lia, wets her finger and dips it in her vial of cocaine, and then slides it up between Hope’s legs … I live very vicariously through writing those scenes.

*The ladies start chanting: Dunk, dunk, dunk!*

Deidre (shaking her head): Not just yet, we know how Gen likes delayed gratification.

Bad Penny: Ooohhh–

Caroline: Snap!

Beth and Cat: Hee!

Gen (smacking at them): Tuh!

Deidre: Travis, did you make any one character have more of your own personal attributes, good or bad, and which one?

Travis: Sadly, it’s probably some of my villains that are closer to me in real life. But Aaron does tend to be a cynical-yet-endearing sort of smartass, and that could accurately describe one of my own multiple personalities.

*Deidre lobs the ball for one last dunk.*

Travis: Merde!

*The girls all laugh. Gen and Beth pop up from the couch to start untying Travis. Cat and Caroline start whisper fighting about who gets to towel Travis off.*

Travis: Get this rope out of my crack, please and thank you. And ladies, got a naked guy here. Let’s do this #naughtycouch style.

Cat: Oh, we’ll show you #naughtycouch style, alright!

*Beth snickers*

Deidre: Let’s put him in the kilt!

Travis: Kilt—what?

Bad Penny: Wait! Let me show you some fun gear I picked up at Tribal Fire…

Travis: Gear?

Caroline: Dirty martinis, everyone?

*Beth opens a jar of olives*

Gen: Ok, my lovely blog followers! That’s it for today because the guy I got the booth from has to get it back to the Fair…

Bad Penny: I thought you said it fell off the back of a truck?

*Caroline snickers.*

Gen (clearing her throat): Anyhooo, thank you for joining us today as we interviewed Travis. Please check out his books and social media links below!

AUTHOR BIO AND LINKS

TW Luedke is a husband, father, and writer of Urban Fantasy Thriller, Paranormal Romance, Young Adult Fiction, and Sci-fi. He is currently catching a 3rd degree sunburn in San Antonio, Texas, and loving every minute of it.