Ramblings from the Desk of J. Morgyn White

Hello!

I cannot believe it’s March, and it’s also less than a week until Demons For Breakfast is officially published on March 13th!

So how is the launch going?

It was going really well.

Now, I have no idea?

Three days ago Meta bots shut down all of my social media accounts for some erroneous reasoning and the appeal was instantly denied, plunging all the content of my Facebook, Instagram, and Threads accounts (and all the sub-accounts for Fork & Bottle, JMorgynWhite/Writes, and HuntingDragons) into the abyss.

New challenge unlocked. Needless to say I’m working on trying to get them back, but I also need to keep going on my launch.

@NightshadeHearts on Instagram is the new hub for #demonsforbreakfast information until the mess gets cleaned up. 

How you can help me out is by pre-ordering my ebook on Amazon for 99cents before March 13. Why? Because it pushes the ranking up making the book more visible - and that really, really, helps me out. Especially now when visibility is like crawling through molasses.

PreOrder Demons For Breakfast .99

If you preordered Demons for Breakfast through Etsy, you’ll shortly be receiving a stunning limited edition paperback version, signed by me, with a bunch of goodies (and my eternal thanks). I decided to print a luxe edition of 150 copies, so the luxe boxes and paperbacks in my Author Shop will be those until they are gone. 

I’ve added a $10-off code to the link so it should fill in automatically but if you need the code it’s: NLLuxe26 

My Etsy Author Shop

The Future Me.

Editing life and book launch has meant very little writing, so I am itching to take on new work again later in the month. In other news, Editors' feedback for Valravyn’s current draft is in, and I have lots of thoughts. The series is a massive project and I may have been premature saying Fall 2026 publication. But I’ll let you know in the next newsletter all the 2026 plans. 

What I’m Reading.

Just finished Stacia Stark’s We Who Will Die and currently reading J.R. Ward’s new fantasy Crown of War and Shadow. I did read H. M. Wolfe’s Daggermouth earlier last month and have a ton of thoughts about it! Got a book you couldn’t put down? Let me know!

Don’t Miss.

Riot Women on Prime-BritBox was riveting. The plot is about older menopausal women starting a rock band. (Content Warning-domestic violence, suicide attempt, rape). It’s gritty and funny and the lead actress is incredible. I cannot wait until season 2 (which we better get). 

You also all know I love a good costume drama. Recent guilty pleasures included a re-watching of The Forsythe Saga (Prime-PBS) to get ready for the remake dropping end of March, and also The Gray House (Prime-PBS) a US Civil War drama which stars one of my favorite actresses from Harlots (if you haven’t watched Harlots yet (on Hulu), add that to your to-watch list). I was on the fence about Bridgerton Season 4 (Netflix) but the series rallied and I really found this storyline compelling and I’m back in for Eloise if she’s next season.

Until next time (when I’ll be a 2x published author!) There will be much Champagne consumed on Friday.

Cheers,

~J.

(Chibi illustrations of Sorrel, Antimony (the cat), and Ranth at the top by @nailavi_ on Instagram)

As always I’ll leave you with a snippet of writing. 

****************************************************************

After the Meal

J. Morgyn White

The toast popped.

I despised using Tony’s kitchen. The efficacy of it rankled my wild energy and it was too clean. The toast tongs wouldn’t grip the bread. I grabbed a searing crust edge and dropped it on the blue striped plate. Loathing the color, I fondled the butter knife, imagining the plate in jagged pieces. But Tony had been kind enough to trust me with his home. I should try and be respectful. Especially after last night's mess. Of course, that couldn't be helped.

I continued to stare at the toast, as if my icy gaze would cool it off faster. The toast didn’t move. It languished in its delightful brown crunchiness on the ugly plate. 

My butt vibrated. No one sane called me before noon which narrowed the options. I pulled out my phone and transferred my attention to the name; my stomach clenched with hungry fingers and something else I hadn’t named.

Dawn.

She was sane. Usually.

I slid the phone onto the counter and poised the knife. The cold butter took force to spread on the toast. The perfect temperature of cool to barely-warm, allowing the fat to melt enough to smooth it over the surface with a smidgeon less pressure. 

The taste of toast calmed the hunger as the phone vibrated. 

Dawn had left a message. 

My belly tightened and the toast sat leaden. I took another bite forcing myself to swallow until only crumbs stared back. Then I picked up the phone.

There’s always a decision to make. Message first, or call back. I skipped the message and leaned against the counter, putting the phone on speaker as it dialed. 

The kitchen abutted the living area. The light from the windows didn’t reach the couch, shrouding it in a delightful darkness. I would have sat there if I could have. It was occupied.

“What's so important, Dawn?” I barked.

“Vic. Oh. My. God. You have to help me.” Her shrill tone was the shredded edge of sane.

Where are you?

“I don’t know. 8^th Avenue I think. It found me.”

——