by M.L. Buchman I'm always surprised, and occasionally a little alarmed, when Chance takes a hand. Chance is Lady Luck's younger brother and I often think that he's slipping out of some halfway house to do a little moonlighting when he strikes. Because unlike Lady Luck, when Chance strikes, he delivers a strangely mixed bag. What really brings the contrast of behavior to light is when they both do their dance to me in the same week. Lady Luck (who I picture as sort of Anne Hathaway in that makeover scene in The Devil Wears Prada): Lady Luck came to me in the form of an editor who was sick to death of my insisting that I only wrote novels. She said, "Fine. I'm building an anthology and you're now one of the lead authors in it. Go write me a story." Ghost of Willow's Past was described as "One of the standouts!" by Publisher's Weekly. A year later the same editor kicked me in the butt and "Where's the next story? ...
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