Natalina Reis's Blog, page 12

Song of Blood and Stone – Review

Song of Blood & Stone by L. Penelope
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Great book. The world building was fantastic and there was not one info dump in sight. Bravo. Great characters, great suspense (especially toward the end when I really believed all was lost), great magic system, and I loved the folktales included at the beginning of every chapter even if some were a bit nonsensical; they gave the story such a real feel.
My only pet peeve with the story was that the sex scenes felt a bit awkward which took away from the romance (which by the way was great. What a great love story. Swoon) and the heat of the moment. Otherwise I have nothing but great things to say about this book.
I will be reading more from this author.

View all my reviews

Fate or Something Like It

Have you ever wondered whether fate is a real thing? I was never much of a believer, choosing to follow the school of thought that says we design our own fate.

That said, there are things that reek of fate or something like it. Take the fact that I write (among many other things as you, my one faithful follower know well) gay romance. For a long time I was convinced Lavender Fields had been my first foray into the sub-genre. I pontificated on how I wrote it in part to give my son representation in the romance genre. And then it hit me: no, that wasn’t it! I had done it before.

Okay, so maybe Lavender Fields is my first published gay romance, but the truth is I had written others way before I even thought of having children. In truth, my very first gay romance was inspired by Duran Duran, believe it or not. For those who are not as old as me, Duran Duran was a very popular boy band in the 80s.

Sidenote: have you noticed how the pretty boys bands of the 80s look a lot like the pretty boys K-Pop bands of today? Just an observation.

I had been gifted by my dad with a trip to Belgium after I graduated from college. The whole family went (no, we couldn’t afford it. My dad was an airline worker so we got free tickets and a friend of his let us stay at his apartment and use his car in Brussels) and it was the trip of a lifetime. The art, the medieval towns, the flowers, the waffles (gauffres) and the Godiva chocolate will always shine in my memory bank. But one of the ah-ah moments I got on that trip was when one day, I was walking around La Grand-Place in Brussels and I spotted a couple just a few steps ahead of me, holding hands and stealing kisses from each other. No big deal. Common fare in Europe even back then. However, this couple was a gay couple. Two men in love and not afraid to show it in public.

I hadn’t thought much about homosexuality until that moment, other than getting upset over comments made about our suburban town mailman who was very open about his sexuality (how brave was that at a time when prejudice against homosexuals ran wild?). But that moment made me wonder what would it be like if the world could accept love for what it is. Simple, plain love. After all isn’t love the most amazing, most powerful feeling in the world? Then why try to stick it into small, limiting boxes? Why can’t we just let love be love?

Anyway, I got inspired by that moment and wrote a love story between two men who looked a lot like the guys from Duran Duran. Don’t judge me. It was the eighties and I wasn’t fully immune to its vibes. I never finished it and God only knows where the notebook I wrote it on is right now. Hopefully lost forever because the writing was horrendous, lol.

A few years later, I wrote another one. This time inspired by the song “Sail Away” by the Styx, a band I was totally enamored with at the time. I can’t explain it why I did it or what made me even think about it, but I wrote a gay romance between two of the then band members (I won’t mention which ones). Now that I think about it, I was apparently writing fanfic way before it became a thing.

If I still have your attention after all this rambling, I will now go back to the original idea: fate or something like it. I don’t know what made me write gay stories, but I like to think it was the Universe (fate–whatever) steering me into the kind of writer (and person) I became later.

I have a gay son and I write gay characters in my stories. I don’t exclusively write about MM romance though. That would be like reneging on my belief that love is love no matter who the parties involved are. So I write romance. Period. Sometimes the couple are from opposite sexes, sometimes not. I write what fate has honed me into writing: stories about the magic and beauty of love.

P.S.- Seriously, haven’t you noticed the resemblance between those pretty K-Pop boys and the bands of the 80s? No? It’s just me???

Check out one of Duran Duran’s hits. Great outfits. Click here

Fangirl, Vol 1 & 2: The Manga

Fangirl, Vol. 2: The Manga by Sam Maggs
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I loved the novel and I equally loved this graphic adaptation (the first two books). The illustrator captured the mood and feelings of the characters perfectly, which allowed me to go over the whole rollercoaster of emotions again.
Perfect. Except for the fact I have to wait until next year for the next book

View all my reviews

In Light’s Shadow – Blog Tour

Warren Rochelle has a new MM alternate history fantasy out: In Light’s Shadow.

Gavin Booker, a school librarian, leads an orderly, normal life. Work, jogging, friends from work, his son every other weekend. Gavin is also a secret. He is a hybrid, or part-fairy, and in the Columbian Empire, hybrids are under an automatic death sentence. Magic is illegal. So is loving another man, another capital crime. Fairies are locked away in ghettoes, magical beasts, such as gryphons, unicorns, and pegasi are kept in zoos.

Also in zoos: werewolves and other wers, centaurs, and Cheshire cats. The others, the tree and water spirits, the talking beasts, fauns, and the rest, are in hiding. This is the world in which Gavin grew up. He survived, thanks to his mother. He can never forget he is different: ministers preach against people like him constantly; hating the other is a part of every school’s curriculum.

But now, things are changing fast, and apparently, for the worst. Earthquakes, volcanoes, killer storms. The medicine Gavin takes to suppress his body’s glowing, isn’t working. The spells cast by his doctor, a witch, are losing their power. If anyone finds out what Gavin is, he is dead. Under threat, the Empire always goes after its marginalized people. Can Gavin survive the common catastrophe? Will he ever recover from losing the boys he loved? Can he find the fairy man who has haunted his dreams all is life before it is too late? Can his scarred heart ever heal?

Warnings: Suicide (off-stage), suicidal thoughts and suicide attempt, and self-harm

Universal Buy LinkGiveaway

Warren is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47257/?

Excerpt

The name on the sign by the empty cage read Equus caballus malum. No government-authorized sign would ever have any reference to human for a centaur. His mother had taught him the other name that morning beneath the Big Trees.

A pair of golden gryphons, also with clipped wings, and as unhappy looking as the pegasi, were in the next cage.

“There are supposed to be two silver gryphons, too,” Gavin said, after he read the sign. “I guess they are hiding in that cave in the back. Maybe the female is sitting on her eggs, or nursing her cubs.”

Latisha just nodded and tightened her grip on his hand. God only knows what her parents told her before this field trip.

The werewolf was next, sitting hunched over a rock in its forest habitat. It was an eastern red werewolf, with intensely blue human-like eyes. Listed on the sign in front of the cage were instructions for identifying werewolves in human form, and ways to protect oneself from such monsters. Canis lupus malum, evil wolf.

The werewolf seemed even sadder than the rest of the Bestiary’s denizens. It hadn’t looked up, no matter how loud the kids ahead of Gavin and Latisha had been, or how many faces they had made. But it did look up just as Gavin got to the cage and stared at him with those very bright blue eyes. Human eyes. Homo sapiens lupus. Gavin froze.

“Mr. Booker?”

He didn’t answer Latisha at first. Instead, Gavin watched as the werewolf, shaking its big shaggy head, came slowly over to the corner of the cage where they stood. Its eyes were focused intently on Gavin. It jumped on its hind legs, its big paws only separated from Gavin’s face by the glass.

“Help me, please, fairy, help me. They won’t me let change. They make me take drugs,” it said in a rough voice. “I need to change. Get me out of here.”

“I’m not a fairy. Shut up,” Gavin snapped back.

“Mr. Booker? Look, the silver ones came out,” Latisha said. She was staring at the gryphon cage. She turned when the werewolf asked again for the fairy to get him out. “Mr. Booker? What’s it talking about? What fairy?” Latisha asked, looking back and forth between the silver gryphons and the werewolf. The silver gryphons ran back in their cave.

“Not a fairy? Look at your hands, fairy,” the werewolf hissed.

Gavin dropped Latisha’s hand and looked at his own. The tips of all his fingers glowed, a faint, faint yellow glow, as if he had dipped them in fluorescent paint. He quickly slid them into his pockets.

I took the pills this morning. This shouldn’t be happening. Suppress, suppress, suppress.

“I’m not a fucking fairy,” he yelled at the werewolf who only growled and snarled in return. He looked quickly around the Bestiary. Was there anybody who’d hear him yelling? What was he thinking? Thank God nobody but Latisha was anywhere near Gavin and the werewolf.

Latisha stared at Gavin and the werewolf. “You aren’t supposed to say that word; it’s not nice. Mama told me so. What fairy is it talking about?”

Gavin took a deep breath. Seeing the fear in the little girl’s face, he spoke slowly, in as even and as calm a tone as he could muster. “I don’t know what fairy it’s talking about. There’s just you and me and we’re certainly not fairies.” The glowing had stopped, he felt it. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I got upset—that thing upset me. Your mother is absolutely right; you shouldn’t say that.”

“Fairies are bad, too,” Latisha said. He could guess what she was thinking. Latisha was remembering what she had been taught in school, the same things he had been taught in kindergarten and first grade, in Sunday school, and all the way through high school and college. Never mind the ads on TV and that radio that played over and over. The government made sure the lesson got through, that it was repeated over and over so no one could ever miss it. Even the youngest knew what the warning signs were, what to look out for. And what to do if they saw glowing people.

For your country and your Emperor, for God, for your family and friends, and because Jesus loves you: call the police. Just hit the big blue star on the nearest Automatic Reporting Machine and start talking. If you don’t know how to use the phone or the ARM, or neither is nearby, find the nearest normal adult and tell them. Normal people, good people, do not glow.

“Fairy, please. Help me.”

Gavin ignored the werewolf. “It’s not supposed to talk to us. Let’s go find Mr. Phillips and the rest of the class.”

Latisha nodded and reached for his hand. They walked away quickly, not looking back.

The werewolf yelled. “Fairy, help me, please!” Then it howled. They walked faster, Latisha looking over her shoulder.

Author Bio

Warren Rochelle lives in Charlottesville, Virginia, with his husband and their little dog, Gypsy, after retiring teaching English and Creative Writing at the University of Mary Washington in 2020. His short fiction and poetry have been published in such journals and anthologies as Icarus, North Carolina Literary Review, Forbidden Lines, Aboriginal Science Fiction, Collective Fallout, Queer Fish 2, Empty Oaks, Quantum Fairy Tales, Migration, The Silver Gryphon, Jaelle Her Book, Colonnades, and Graffiti, as well as the Asheville Poetry Review, GW Magazine, Crucible, The Charlotte Poetry Review, and Romance and Beyond. His short story, “The Golden Boy,” was a finalist for the 2004 Spectrum Award for Short Fiction.

Rochelle is the author of a book of academic criticism, Communities of the Heart: the Rhetoric of Myth in the Fiction of Ursula K. Le Guin, published by Liverpool University Press in 2001. Other articles and book reviews on science fiction and fantasy have appeared in various journals, including Extrapolation, Foundation, North Carolina Literary Review, and the SFRA Review.

Rochelle is also the author of four novels: The Wild Boy (2001), Harvest of Changelings (2007), and The Called (2010), all published by Golden Gryphon Press, and The Werewolf and His Boy, published by Samhain Publishing in September 2016. The Werewolf and His Boy was re-released by JMS Books in August 2020. His first story collection, The Wicked Stepbrother and Other Stories, was published by JMS Books in September 2020. His second collection, To Bring Him Home and Other Tales, was published in September 2021, by JMS Books. A stand-alone story, “Seagulls,” was released by JMS Books in September 2021.

Author Website: https://kingdomofjoria.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://facebook.com/warrenrochelle

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://facebook.com/warrenwriter

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/WarrenRochelle

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/38355.Warren_Rochelle

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://limfic.com/WarrenRochelle

Air Awakens – Review

Air Awakens by Elise Kova
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I listened to the audio version of this book. I had read some bad reviews but also had heard great things about this series. I have to say I really enjoyed it overall. The main character seemed a little too naïve at times, but I think it worked well for the purposes of the overall plot. The boorish prince was a great character, I thought. Well written and developed. I did hate the way he reacted at the end during the judgement. I thought something didn’t jive with his character and the romance between them. I’m looking forward to learning more about him and his relationship with his brother who surprised me quite a bit. I smell a love triangle and I’m not quite sure how I feel about that.
I do have to say that the voice actress did an awesome job on dialogue, but the way she read the narrative was jarring to me as she chose a very monotone voice. Everything she read sounded the same and at times it was read very fast as if she was trying to cram as many words per minute as she could. It may be she was trying to sound neutral when she read the narrative, but it came across to me as bland and unemotional.
Looking forward to reading the next book in the series.

View all my reviews

Daughter of the Moon Goddess – Review

Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

What a lovely book. From the beautiful cover to the themes and language of the story everything was beautiful. I’m a huge fan of C-Dramas and Chinese mythology so I dove in with enthusiasm. I was not disappointed. I must say that the extremely detailed description of the settings–however beautifully done–threw me off the story a bit (maybe because in my head I am already pretty familiar with the traditional Chinese historical fantasy settings and the description was just overkill) especially in the first half of the book, but everything else was perfect. And what a surprise–more like shock–about the huge plot twist toward the end. Love that kind of surprise and I so didn’t see it coming.
I have already pre-ordered the sequel so it’s safe to say this was a definite winner for me. Congrats, Ms. Tan!

View all my reviews

Troy’s Happy Ending – Blog Tour

Ardy Kelly has a new MM paranormal romance (mpreg) out: Troy’s Happy Ending. And there’s a giveaway.

When life gives me lemons, I use them as ammunition. I’ve had to fight for my happy ending.”

Once upon a time, an outcast boy met the love of his life…which was quite a surprise considering he didn’t know he was gay.

Troy Merton wasn’t always Lone Wolves Ranch’s resident author and busybody. He was once a pregnant runaway teen battling pack alphas, kidnappers, and snotty rich omegas.

This is his story, from coming of age in the Black Hills of South Dakota to a happy ending with his fated mate, Ryan.

It’s the kind of tale TJ Macks would write…if it happened to someone else!

Universal Buy Link

QueeRomance Ink | Goodreads

Giveaway

Ardy is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47256/?

Excerpt

A few dips in the dirt road woke Julian. He rubbed his eyes and peered out the RV window. “Turn right at the end of the fence.”

Ryan pulled up to a gate. A large man stepped out of the guard house at the side.

Julian rolled down his window. “Hey, Eddy.”

Eddy pulled out his clipboard. “You aren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”

“We had car trouble.” Julian gestured to the burnt-out vehicle being towed behind. “Ryan and Troy gave us a ride back.”

Eddy narrowed his eyes. “And who are Ryan and Troy?”

The back door popped open so fast, Eddy reached for his gun.

“I’m Troy. Ryan is behind the wheel. He’s alpha of the Black Hills pack, in case that gets us a discount on RV parking. We also have Triple A.”

“Anybody else inside?” Eddy asked.

Julian yawned. “Just my sisters.”

“I’ll have to check the vehicle.” Eddy drew his revolver and climbed the steps into the back.

“Well, aren’t you a unique welcome committee,” Troy mumbled.

Eddy scanned the interior. “Any weapons?”

“Just my sharp tongue,” Troy said. When Eddy growled, he added, “Let me guess. No sense of humor.”

“No.”

“Well, they say there’s someone for everybody, but you might just be the exception.”

Ryan put his hand on his mate’s shoulder. “Troy,” he warned.

“He pulled a gun on me,” Troy replied. “I’m allowed to be peevish.”

“He’s TJ Macks,” Sarah said, jumping to Troy’s defense. “The famous author.”

“I wouldn’t say famous,” Troy replied. “But I’m glad you did. Though I bet my next book will be even better. In fact, I think I’ve found my new villain.”

Eddy holstered his gun. “I’m going to have to call in before I can open the gate.” He went back to the guard house, but kept an eye on the RV while speaking into a walkie-talkie.

In a few minutes, a wolf ran to the gate. He shifted into his naked human form at the door of the RV. “Hi. I’m Mack. I’m pack leader for Lone Wolves Ranch.”

“What a pleasant surprise,” Troy said, staring at the newcomer.

“Not so peevish now?” Ryan whispered, before stepping in front of his mate to block the view. “I’m Ryan, pack leader of the Black Hills wolves.”

Ryan repeated their story, but before he could finish, a spry older woman pushed Mack out of the way and jumped inside the RV. She scanned the room before stalking toward Troy. Pulling his shirt up, she studied his belly. “You’re an omega. And you’ve had a cub.”

Troy pulled the hem of his shirt down. “Some things are private.”

Grabbing Troy’s hand, she pulled him to the door. “Come with me.”

Mack blocked the way. “Helen, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got an omega going into labor, and I’ve never delivered one before.”

“How many omegas do you have here?” Troy asked.

“Four, counting you,” Helen answered. “Now hurry.”

After watching the two disappear into the night, Mack stuck out his hand to Ryan. “Welcome to Lone Wolves Ranch.”

Troy followed Helen past rows of cottages to the one with lights blazing. She didn’t bother to knock as she pushed Troy inside.

A pregnant omega sat in an easy chair, whimpering softly, while his mate rushed to greet them. “Where have you been?”

“Getting backup,” Helen replied.

“I’m Troy.”

“Bill,” the anxious alpha replied, pointing to himself. “And Cory.”

“He’s kicking harder now,” Cory said.

“Or she,” Helen replied. She turned to the expert. “What do we do?”

Troy crossed the room and lifted Cory’s shirt. “He hasn’t sprung a leak yet. But we should get you undressed.”

He struggled to get the omega up out of the chair until Bill lent a hand. Troy put his hands on his hips. “When I gave birth, they had a chair with a motor to help you up. You may want to get one for next time.”

“There’s never going to be a next time,” Cory yelled.

“We’ll need some blankets and towels,” Troy informed Bill. “I suspect it’s going to get messy pretty soon. And you might want to get naked, too.”

Bill nodded. “For the cub?”

“No,” Troy replied. “But it will help me stay awake.”

There was a knock on the door, followed by Ryan’s voice. “Troy, are you in there?”

Troy frowned. “Better yet, keep your clothes on.”

It took fifteen minutes before water sprung from Cory’s birthing line, giving Troy enough time to extract the full story of Bill and Cory’s romance. The rest was quick. Once the cub (a girl) was delivered, they helped Cory shift to his wolf and then back to his healed human self.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Ryan said as the two walked back to their RV. “Are you thinking of having another baby?”

His mate knew him so well. “I don’t think Black Hills is ready to see a pregnant omega. They’re already barely civil to us.”

“Who doesn’t love a baby?”

Troy shrugged. “I was thinking of Cory and Bill’s cub. And Helen. She scared me until I saw her with the baby. There was love there.” Troy turned back to look at the cottage of the new parents. “I don’t think being an omega or the child of an omega is that big a deal here.”

“Maybe we can learn how they did it and bring it back to Black Hills.”

“Maybe. But Black Hills was never our dream. This might be the happiest I’ve been in months. The sad part is I didn’t even know how miserable I was. It felt normal.” He wrapped his arm through Ryan’s. “I’m scared when we go back, it will all feel normal again.”

“We don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Ryan said. “We’ve got a long drive back to figure it out. Let’s get some sleep. I think we earned it.”

Author Bio

Ardy Kelly is my paranormal pen-name. I’m an accountant by day, a Netflix junkie by night, and occasionally a weekend writer of the Lone Wolves Ranch omegaverse series.

When I’m not cursing myself for taking so long to produce a book I write the kind of stories I want to read, with an emphasis on humor, heart, and heat. My favorite characters are the ones who discover they aren’t as ordinary as society has led them to believe.

Author Website: https://www.robynkellyauthor.com/ardykellyauthor

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/ardy.kelly.35

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/ArdyKelly

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18510291.Ardy_Kelly

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/ardy-kelly/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Ardy-Kelly/e/B07J6N1HPL

Defeated

Yesterday I woke up feeling defeated. I didn’t get enough sleep, up for a large part of the night with a stupid pain I get once in a while. So maybe my sense of defeat came from the lack of sleep and the stubborn pressure pain in my lower back. Be that as it may, I felt like an utter failure.

We all want to make a difference in the world, one way or another, right? I’m no different. As a woman I wanted to be successful at my job, be it as a wife, a mother, a teacher, or a writer. We all want to leave a legacy of some kind. I am now sixty years old so my mortality is calling and reminding me that I have nothing to boast about, nothing to be remembered by when I leave this world.

I feel I failed at everything I did including being a mom and a wife. And I most definitely failed at being a writer. I have now twenty published works and I still don’t make enough money to keep up with my coffee habit, much less to make a living off of it. Every attempt I have made at marketing my work has failed miserably and the worst part is, I don’t understand why. I follow the advice of experts and friends alike who had at least some reasonable success with their marketing. I spend hours coming up with effective graphics, videos, whatever it’s needed, only for them to flop big time. I can’t even get people to download my free bonus materials.

I try to make sense of it and all I can think of is I’m stupid about these things and/or my books suck big time.

I have tried everything: Kindle Vella (not one free episode was downloaded), TikTok , Facebook, Instagram, paid promos, blog tours, free promos, videos, graphics, online events… by golly, I couldn’t even get other authors to help me with reposting my new releases (with some very notable exceptions. I do have a group of awesome online friends both authors and readers) which have been total flops every one of them.

It’s so bad that when I decided to do one of those Facebook fundraisers (not writing related) for my birthday to help a charity I have been sponsoring for many years, I managed to get ONE donation. One besides my own. It all can make you feel very lonely and unloved.

Yes, this is a whinny, self-indulgent blog but I had to let it out. I feel better today and I stay positive (for the most part) but this feeling creeps up pretty often. I have quit checking my sales as often. I have pretty much given up on checking for new reviews. I can’t justify spending the amount of money I have spent in the past when I make close to nothing in return and I can’t justify the amount of time I spend besides my demanding day job as a teacher marketing and promoting my books either.

I will keep writing because I love it, always have. And I’ll most likely continue to publish my books because hope never dies, I guess. But I wish I could be successful at one thing at least. Is that too much to ask?

How do you deal with failure and/or the hopeless feeling of defeat?

Note: This is me venting on a day I woke up feeling smaller than a bug and just as relevant. Most days I don’t feel like that. I have “moments” but for the most part my rational side knows things are not that gloomy. I have wonderful friends, a small group of amazing readers who are super supportive, great writer friends who help me however they can, and my family who despite their flaws love me as much as I love them. I am also so fortunate to have an amazing publisher and a day job that, however exhausting and frustrating, keeps me fed, housed and which I love most of the time (love my students for sure. Not so sure about the education bosses of this world.). So take this with a grain of salt. Or two

First Born Sons – Blog Tour

Vincent Traughber Meis has a new LGBTQ+ contemporary literary book out (gay, trans FTM, bi, gender fluid): First Born Sons. And there’s a giveaway.

A group of coastal California residents battle wildfires, racism, and their own demons in five distinct narratives set in late 2019 and 2020.

The book is populated by a cast of diverse LGBTQ+ individuals who struggle to find love, comfort, and fulfillment. As the novel progresses, characters interact across the separate narratives and are brought together for a birthday and a disastrous Black Lives Matter demonstration.

A man returning to the horrors that made him leave Mississippi, a blind gay man flirting with love, an FTM transgender starting hormone therapy, a woman struggling to protect her sons from her husband’s surge to right-wing politics, and a teenager with two gay dads searching for his Black surrogate mom paint a disturbing tableau of modern-day America.

Universal Buy LinkGiveaway

Vincent is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47255/?

Excerpt

1 Fire
August 2020

Each step took him closer to safety, one uncertain foot in front of the other, his biceps straining as he shifted the heavy load in his arms. On either side of the unpaved road he traversed, thick groves of redwoods towered above him and the forest air wrinkled with dust and heat and smoke, causing his useless eyes behind dark glasses to burn. But his legs knew the way, knew the number of steps to the nearest house. If the neighbors weren’t there, he would have to make it all the way to the main road and hope for a passing car to pick him up.

A gust of hot wind rushed through the trees, and he heard the snap of a branch, followed by a thump on the ground. He picked up his pace, his breathing growing heavier, sweat trickling down his sides. He shifted the load again and hugged the equipment to his chest, things he couldn’t leave behind, the tools of his trade, his work, his life.

A few minutes earlier he had been in a groove at the desk in front of the window, headphones on, crafting a set for an upcoming Zoom dance party called Apocalypse. Making a killer set was essential for people unable to go out, afraid of the virus, surrounded by wildfires, and bored with political discourse. They longed to dance, move their bodies, get their sexy on even if it was in a little Zoom window. With outlets of entertainment shut down, people spent excess income on pricey headphones and ear buds. He took that into account as his fingers danced over the knobs and levers, adjusting everything by sound and feel, pumping up the bass to shake their brains, rattle their hearts imprisoned in ribcages of discontent.

His goal was to make them feel something, and he hunted for songs allowing extreme panning, mixes that bounced the sounds back and forth from ear to ear, playing with space and width as the music traveled through their heads. Getting them on their feet and shaking their asses made him happy, gave him a reason to go on when the darkness around him pressed in.

The odor of burning, pungent and slightly sweet, had wafted in the open window, filled his nostrils, and snapped him out of the trance he fell into when manipulating pitch, timbre, texture, volume, and duration, pushing one up, another down. He removed the headphones and through the lingering pulsation in his ears heard the incessant chirp notifications from his phone. Five messages. They all told him the same thing. The fires were getting close. Get out. He unplugged his headphones and the controller from his laptop, gathered everything in his arms, felt his way to the door, and negotiated the steps to the ground.

A car approached, still a couple of hundred yards away, and his panic subsided. As it was the last house on the road, someone had to be coming for him. He breathed easier, and the playlist returned to his head, the order and choice of songs. The gravel crunched under his feet to the beat of the extended dance mix version he had found of the R.E.M. song, “It’s the End of the World as We Know It,” a trite but obvious choice for the set. The car got closer. He tilted his head. Though his ears recognized most of the cars that came down the road, this one was different, heavier.

The vehicle stopped. Two doors opened, and the sounds of unfriendly steps, the vibration of danger ground toward him. Two men, he guessed. His spine tingled with the all-overs as Granny used to say.

“Stop right there!” a man shouted. “Put your shit on the ground and raise your hands.”

The command brought a brutal end to the tunes in Lamar’s head like a needle scratching across a record. “What? Who are you?” Lamar continued his trudge forward.

The two cops turned to each other with confused expressions. The older officer with a thick mustache that hid his upper lip on a round face and a rookie who looked as if he spent way too much time admiring his blond good looks in front of the mirror at the gym unsnapped their holsters and put their hands on their guns. The senior cop growled, “I said stop. On your knees.”

Lamar’s spirit tumbled into a muddy hole of fear. It had been four years since he had nearly lost his life, attacked by men with guns and robbed of his laptop with all his stored music. This time his files were backed up, but he wasn’t about to lose the couple of thousand dollars’ worth of equipment in his arms without a fight.

“I don’t know who you are.” A murder of crows cawed a bitter song high in the trees above them. They could see what he couldn’t, looking down on the classic scenario of a Black man facing the police with their guns drawn, barking orders that made no sense.

“Stop where you are. Are you deaf?”

The birds cawed panic and flew away.

“No, but he’s blind,” said a voice from behind the officers. The younger one swirled around and pointed his gun at a man walking up the road. Byron’s long hair blew wild in the wind and his beard was thick from not shaving since the beginning of the shutdown. He liked to joke that he now looked like the Unabomber. When Lamar hadn’t responded to his call, he had rushed out of the house in a dirty T-shirt and sweats and jumped in his car, a disheveled cavalry to the rescue.

Author Bio

Vincent Traughber Meis grew up in Decatur, Illinois where he got his start writing plays for his younger sisters to act in for a neighborhood audience. He graduated from Tulane University in New Orleans and worked for many years as an English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher in the San Francisco Bay Area, Spain, Saudi Arabia and Mexico, publishing many academic articles in his field.

As result of his extensive travels and time abroad he published a number of pieces, mostly travel articles, but also a few poems and book reviews, in publications such as, The Advocate, LA Weekly, In Style, and Our World in the 1980’s and 90’s. He finally arrived at his true writing love: novels and short stories.

Five of his six published novels are set at least partially in foreign countries and his book of short stories focuses on countries around the world. Several of his novels have won Rainbow Awards, and his most recent novel, The Mayor of Oak Street was awarded a Reader Views Silver Award. He has published short stories in a number of collections and has achieved Finalist status in a few short fiction contests.

When he’s not writing, he works in the garden and travels with his husband. He lives in San Leandro, California.

Author Website: https://www.vincentmeis.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/vincent.meis

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/vincenttraughbermeis/

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/convince415

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/vincentmeisauthor

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5755735.Vincent_Meis

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B00J7YZQU4

Court Lady – A Review

If you follow me here or on any of the other social media sites, you know I’m a huge fan of Chinese dramas, especially the historic and fantasy ones. The right word is probably more like obsessed, lol.

I just finished watching the series, Court Lady, and I felt I need to share my opinion about it. This was one of the best, most satisfying dramas I have watched in a long time for various reasons.

First let me tell you a little about the C-drama (historical and fantasy) usual structure/plot. It normally starts on a lighter note, often depicting a innocent side to the main characters and it develops into the destruction of that innocence one way or another. Things progressively become more serious and the writers often throw many obstacles into the MCs’ path. Towards the end of the series, things normally get really hairy with the death of many of the cast of characters (I guess Game of Thrones style), sometimes all of the supporting cast and even one of the MCs. One of the big fails of many C-dramas in my humble opinion is unsatisfying endings. Often, the last episode leaves a bitter taste in the viewer’s mouth.

This is where Court Lady differs from all the others. I have to first congratulate a great cast–from the MCs and all the “good guys” to the villains which were so not black and white evil. There were many nuances to each character which gave them depth and had me hating them one minute and pitying them the next. The two main characters are a couple of my favorite Chinese actors. Smart cookie Fu Rou is played beautifully by Li Yi Tong and Chu Mu (swoon) is played by Xu Kai. But the side characters were sometimes even more amazing. Chu Ling (Chu Mu’s middle brother) and his love interest, Princess Xin Nan were a favorite of mine because they broke every rule, every tradition you can think of. Their funny and yet, heartwarming relationship was the best I have seen in a while. Kudos to the actors, Fan Shi Qi and Wu Ji Yi for portraying it to perfection.

Yes, there were still some hard to swallow deaths on the way to the conclusion of this wonderful story and at times it was a little preachy, but all in all it was a great ride. And the ending, holy crap, it was the most satisfying one I have seen in Chinese drama or any other drama. No loose threads, no gloom and doom, all hearts and giggles.

Highly recommend it.