Amy Lane's Blog: Writer's Lane, page 51

Vacationing: The Lane Family Blizzard Hits the East Coast

 Okay--so we went back east.

The purpose of going back east was to see Mate's half-brother get married, but Mate also wanted to make the kids "see some culture" as it were, so in between "Hey, kids, you have to dress up in your best clothes and see a bunch of people you don't remember and be nice to them and try not to embarrass us but we would rather you embarrass us than hate us forever, so, you know, do your best," there was also, "Wait-- we're going to look at historical shit. Tell your teachers about this part, it will make us look like good parents."

The pictures are in random order, but I'll caption them in the order in which they're shown, because seriously, I haven't written in days and I'm way behind and formatting is just frickin' beyond me.

As you will see, it's been something of a week.


 About the Washington Monument:

Big T: I knew it was built by slaves, so that's nationally embarrassing, but I had no idea it was also a monument to bankruptcy and procrastination.

Me: And the reason Mom buys yarn in REALLY big batches, because that thing where the two different types of stone doesn't match is no bueno.


About Union Station:

The architecture is cool, but so is the fact that we can get all meta about taking pictures of the architecture in such a profound space.

About the kids with their grandfather:

Hi, Grandpa! Sure we'll stand for this photo op! It will give us something to do while surrounded by people we don't know at a wedding while we're dressed as well as we possibly can be and two of us are looking at the open bar with extreme longing.

About the open bar:

Me: Get me a vodka and cranberry.

Chicken: Sure.

Fifteen minutes later:

Me: Get me a vodka and cranberry since YOU FINISHED MINE OFF.

Chicken: Sullrrrrrrrrre....
 About the bus tour through DC on the top deck:

We thought we were all okay but then Mom got up and moved and we realized she was blocking the wind and our entire world turned to ice. MOM!!!

About the bus tour through DC at night:

Oh, it's so pretty!

I can't feel my feet.

But pretty!

I'm knitting as fast as I can but my fingers are sore and this hat isn't going to be done soon enough!

But pretty!

Jesus GOD could the cold be any more sucktastic?

Sooooo pretty...


We could have come in January, died from hypothermia, and have been stuck on this bus forever and ever and ever.

Selfie in front of the pretty?

For you, Mate, I will do anything.

*later that night

Want to feel my hands?

AUUUUUUGHHHHHHH!!!! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!!!!!!

About the Lincoln Monument:

ZoomBoy: I have to pee!

Mate: I'll take you!

The rest of us: Are we supposed to follow this tour to the Viet Nam memorial?

Squish: My legs hurt. I'm so done. Can I just sit down in the freezing bus and die?

Chicken: Sure, honey. I'll take you. We can die together and they'll discover our frozen corpses in the corner in the morning.  Mine will be pickled in vodka.

Me and Trystan: Can you even see the memorial? We could see it in the day but now I'm just lost. Wait, is that even our bus? Oh my God are we going to spend our time walking down here after spending all day walking through museums and not get to see the Lincoln Memorial? No--no. Let's leave the tour and get some pictures of Lincoln since we really want to see it and then we can head back to the bus and hope Dad and ZoomBoy have visited the bathroom and we won't have to leave them in the thirty degree cold in the strange city at night.

Mate and ZoomBoy: LOOK! IT'S LINCOLN! LET'S GET ALL THE PICTURES! AND HE'S WONDERFUL! AND AREN'T WE LUCKY WE WENT TO THE BATHROOM INSTEAD OF FOLLOWING THE TOUR THAT WASN'T REALLY OURS!

Me and Mate, upon return to the bus: We saw Lincoln, that's what matters.

ZoomBoy: The bathrooms were WARM!


 --And seriously, Lincoln was wonderful. I'm so glad we got to see him, especially at night. I'm sure somebody can pull out something awful about him that I don't want to know about, but right now for me he's the guy who freed the slaves when he had people shouting at him not to, and he also spent four years sleeping with another guy and whether it was platonic or not, it just means he was comfortable with sleeping with another guy and that's cool too.
And here are my kids in the airport, singing C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G SONG! Which is a SpongeBob classic, and we all sang along.

Except for the people watching us who seemed to feel we shouldn't be out in public doing that. But it's the way we started the trip and the way we ended the trip and seriously, I'll do the Patrick part of that song in public any time. (For those of you who know that song, Patrick's part goes AU-BLAH-NUNGH-ACK-MMMFFF-SONG!!!!!!)










And this was our first trip to DC, where we met Andy Q and got photobombed by some random kid. I'm sure if you're from Sacramento or toured there in the last couple of years, you've got this same kid popping up in at least one of your pictures. IT's sort of his forte.






Now, we stayed in a hotel a couple of days, but for part of the time, we stayed with Mate's Aunt Marge and Uncle Tom, who are lovely people. Margie has a Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy set, and while they scare US, she's very fond of them, and Big T took advantage of Squish's SOUND sleeping to place a photo op.

I have to say, Squish was perhaps even less enamored of either of the Raggedy clan after she saw this picture than she had been beforehand, but Margie was thrilled to see the dolls getting some play.

Margie and Tom also live in a two-story house with a basement, and for my kids this was a big happy deal. I have to admit that for me, there were a few Kung Fu Panda moments: My old nemesis. Stairs. But Chicken got to sleep in the frilly pink bedroom of her most guarded high school dreams, although it DID have a Coraline door, but that was part of the charm.


And Andrew and his husband met us when we drove from Gaithersburg, MD to Normandy Falls, PA-- and that was wonderful.


Mate and the groomsmen-- and his brother, to our right.


Another child who knew nobody, was in her best dress for reasons she didn't know, and who just wanted to hide behind her parents until the noise went away.

My kids totally identified.
 And this is what happens when my kids go out in public.

In our defense it was a long drive, and we'd just told them that "flatbread" = "pizza", and their minds are a little blown.
 In front of MLK's picture at the Liberty Bell. Because we offered to take a picture of a nice family there, and they reciprocated--that's pretty much how we lucked into all of us at once.
As I've stated before, THAT CRACK WAS ALREADY THERE.
 Independence Hall.

And me and my children.

And did I mention the nut-shriveling cold?
 And Amy proves, once again, that her camera skills could possibly be the worst on the internet.

I think it was the stadium where the Eagles play.
 And I seriously would have made the entire trip to see the Star Ship Enterprise in real life.

*sniffle*

Yup.

Worth it.
 Mate and me.  Isn't he awesome?

Yeah.

He's awesome.
 Me: I'm gonna take a picture of the elephant.

Mate: Here-- here-- see what I"m doing? See?

Me: Sure! Watch me botch this pic!
 I may have mentioned Big T and I got a little lost while on the night tour at the Lincoln Memorial...
Now, through all the sight seeing, the plane trips, the tour busses, the driving from Maryland to Pennsylvania and back, I knitted. I knitted two pairs of fingerless mittens (because I left one pair at Normandy Falls, dammit!) and four hats. The last hat I was trying to finish on the night tour so I COULD WEAR IT because my scarf over my head wasn't enough, but my fingers were so stiff I didn't finish it until we got back to Mate's Aunt and Uncle's. So I gave it to Mate's Uncle, who spends his retirement as a handyman--and he was THRILLED. The brim (which rolls down to cover his ears) is made of the same yarn I used on Mate's hat--a chunky Malabrigo one-ply, kettle dyed pewter. The top is what I used for Big T's hat--Lion Brand, 20 wool/80 acrylic. It's a basic rolled brim hat, but the wool for the bottom was apparently so soft and warm around Tom's ears and neck that this became his best thing ever.

And I was glad, because he and Margie were so wonderful hosting us that I was happy I could give him a gift of appreciation. Now, what to get Margie...

And that's it. I mean, there were many more moments--I put some of them on Twitter/FB, but for now? I got my dogs back and we only need one cat to check in and seriously.

It's good to be home.

Packing: Me vs. My Husband

Me: Okay, so we're going to need eight days of clothing...

Mate:  Check.

Me: Eight pairs of underwear--

Mate: Check.

Me: Plust eight more pairs because screaming period has commenced.

Mate: And socks.

Me: ....

Mate: And coats.

Me: And six bras.

Mate:...

Me: And eight T-shirts.

Mate: And eight T-shirts.

Me: And four pairs of jeans.

Mate: And two pairs of jeans.

Me: And five sweaters to go over the T-shirts.

Mate: And one hooded Sweatshirt.

Me: And four days of semi-formal clothes because we're going to be in a nice hotel and there's going to be lunch and dinner and brunch and something in case I hate what I brought.

Mate: And two plaid work shirts.

Me: And one more outfit in the semi-formal class because you just never know and remember the screaming period.

Mate: ...

Me: And another pair of jeans because of the screaming period and God knows where that's going to end up.

Mate: ...

Me: And wedding clothes. One dress and a cardigan.

Mate: A suit.

Me: And an extra cardigan in case red looks too pop for this crowd.

Mate: A tie.

Me: And add something to the semi-formal clothes just in case oh my God this suitcase holding the formal clothes gets lost.

Mate: ...

Me: And a bathing suit.

Mate: Sure.

Me: And two pairs of shoes I can wear with the dress.

Mate:  Shiny shoes.

Me: And a pair of sandals I can wear in the hotel.

Mate: ...

Me: And an entire box of feminine hygiene because of the screaming period.

Mate: And Motrin.

Me: And another bottle of Motrin, yes, two at the very least.

Mate: ...

Me: And yarn--small bag, so I can make my hand warmers on the plane.

Mate: My phone.

Me: And a ball so I can make you a hat.

Mate: P.H.O.N.E.

Mate: And another ball so I can make Squish a hat.

Mate: You have a phone. I even gave you a power pack.

Me: And three balls of sock yarn in case we get kidnapped by knitting pirates who make me knit until  my screaming period is over.

Mate: I don't believe this.

Me: And my power pack and my Kindle and my phone.

Mate: Whatever.

Me: And a paperback book in case all the electronics die on the plane.

Mate: Sure.

Me: HOLY GOD DO I HAVE EAR BUDS?

Mate: *sigh* Here.

Me: And five random tampons shoved in various corners of the suitcase.

Mate: I'll live.

Me: And my purse, with a brush.

Mate: I'll use your brush.

Me: We don't have a spare body wash.

Mate: The hotel will provide.

Me: Okay. We might be done.

Mate: I don't believe you.

Me: What?

Mate: You'll be throwing shit in your pockets on the way out the door.

Me: Just because I've done this every other time you've ever seen me pack.

Mate: I'll just be sitting here. PLAYING ON MY PHONE.

Me: One more ball of yarn.

Mate: *yawn*

Me: Did I remember makeup?

Mate: I'm going to bed.

Me: PAJAMAS! I NEED ONE MORE GODDAMNED PAIR!

Mate: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....

Kermit Flail MARCH!

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So OMG-- this week!
I mean, got back from Daytona on Tuesday, and getting back on a plane on Wednesday and for a scant moment I thought, "You know, Amy... nobody's that excited about Kermit Flail..."
Except folks WERE excited.
And people sent me their stuff and I didn't have to ask and I felt GOOD because I LOVE being able to talk about other people's books and we've got some GREAT STUFF here today, because, well, you're all awesome!
L.E. Franks does not write enough!  She's funny, she's engaging, and if you haven't read her book Six Days to Get Lucky yet, you're in luck because it's being re-released AND we get her cover reveal. And the cover's adorable!  Jamie Samms has the delicate, lyrical prose of an angel, and her book, Wheels & Heels is going to be available from Riptide this month and that's SO exciting, and Kim Fielding, who is grounded and funny and writes awesome grumpy heroes has not one but TWO releases, and they're both on my blog today! WHEEEEEEEE!!!!! Add Ki Brightly to that with a book called Secret Seth-- which looks adorable--and you've got some fun March releases that will keep you happy during the last cold month, right?  
OH! And I've been waiting for this book...
I've got a secret love of writer's craft books, and I've already taken a look at Damon's book The A-Game and was so impressed, because it was about marketing which is not my forte but he made me love it. Well, I'm WAY SUPER MORE EXCITED about this book because it's about writing and I can't wait to read it and when I do I'll let you know how awesome it is-- because I've been to most of Damon's workshops and if this book has what I think it's gonna, it's gonna blow the top of your head off and THEN your socks for good measure, and I can't wait. 
So buckle in, folks. 
The Lane Family Circus is hitting the skies and some very awesome books are hitting the shelves!
Oh-- and did I mention? 
Red Fish, Dead Fish is out on audio-- WHEEEEEEEE!!!!!
Six Days to Get Lucky
by LE Franks
COVER REVEAL! 
Mixologist Nick Valentine never thought love was in the cards, but after a scorching Valentine’s Day kiss from bouncer Davis “FatBoy” Newman, he’s beginning to think it’s possible. After four weeks of dry spell, Nick’s losing patience—it’s time FatBoy stop acting the gentleman and just throw him over the bar or Nick may just change his mind.

All FatBoy wants is a shot at winning Nick’s heart. As long as meddling bosses, an Irish hurling team and a bar riot don’t ruin his chances forever, he might just get lucky and take the man of his dreams, home.
Pre Order at Amazon






The Little Library
by Kim Fielding

Elliott Thompson was once a historian with a promising academic future, but his involvement in a scandal meant a lost job, public shame, and a ruined love life. He took shelter in his rural California hometown, where he teaches online classes, hoards books, and despairs of his future. 
Simon Odisho has lost a job as well—to a bullet that sidelined his career in law enforcement. While his shattered knee recovers, he rethinks his job prospects and searches for the courage to come out to his close-knit but conservative extended family.

In an attempt to manage his overflowing book collection, Elliott builds a miniature neighborhood library in his front yard. The project puts him in touch with his neighbors—for better and worse—and introduces him to handsome, charming Simon. While romance blooms quickly between them, Elliott’s not willing to live in the closet, and his best career prospects might take him far away. His books have plenty to tell him about history, but they give him no clues about a future with Simon.
Pre-Order at Riptide


A Full Plate
by Kim Fielding

Opposites come together for a spicy surprise.

Bradford “Tully” Tolliver has everything—money, a great car, a beautiful condo, and a promising career as one of Portland’s hottest young lawyers. Sure, he puts in long hours and has no social life to speak of, but who needs romance when corporations pay top dollar for his expertise? He hesitates when a colleague asks if her cousin can live with him, but the arrangement will last less than a year, and then the cousin—Sage Filling—will return to his tiny hometown.

But Sage is handsome and intriguing, and his cooking makes Tully swoon. Sage has obligations back home, though, and Tully has offers he might not refuse from a persistent—and very wealthy—ex. Since Tully and Sage each have a full plate, can they make room for a side of love?

Pre-Order at Dreamspinner 


Wheels and Heels 
by Jaime Samms 
As a teenager, Ira Bedford fled a troubled home life and people who didn’t understand his penchant for feminine things. In the city, he fell in with Cedric, who found him work as an underage stripper. It took him years to escape Cedric’s influence and try to build a life of his own.
Now, he just wants to be left alone to create his art. But Cedric’s on-going harassment means Ira had to drop out of art school, is squatting in a friend’s apartment, and is still relying on his allure as a sexy, skirt-wearing exotic dancer to pay his bills.

Then he meets Jed. Part-time bartender and the apartment building’s superintendent, Jed is just the right mix of strong, kind, and protective to pull Ira out of hiding. He also welcomes Ira into his chosen family at the Hen and Hog Pub. But Ira yearns for more. Still, he doesn’t dare to hope that Jed will want him and his questionable past, his skirts and high heels, his hang-ups, and the profession he seems unable to escape. But Jed will do anything to prove him wrong.


Buy at Riptide

Secret Seth
by Ki Brightly
Tyler Faulkner lived for his work, constructing Hollywood sets. His designs were perfect, and he  xpected equal perfection from his crew and himself. But, talented as he was, he felt trapped. A creative clash with a producer left him out of more than just a job, and Tyler decided that maybe a new beginning was exactly what he needed.

Seth Goodwin was reliable. So rock-steady that his father made him a partner in the family construction business over his older brothers. Seth’s job was simple—he took a highly skilled crew out on the road to build ridiculously expensive projects for rich clients. Their success prompted Seth and his dad to hire a new designer.

Seth wasn’t so steady around Tyler. Tyler didn’t simply draw art; he forced it into reality, elbowing his way into Seth’s work crew and life, whether he wanted him there or not. But Seth had a secret he’s been keeping for a long while, and Tyler, flamboyant and verbose, wasn’t someone who fit in a closet, unless he was looking for the perfect shoes to go with his outfit. Would Seth and Tyler be able to make it work? Or would everyone’s secrets catch up with them?
Buy at Amazon 

Verbalize!
by Damon Suede


Fascinating fiction starts with characters who make readers care. This Live Wire Writer Guide presents a simple, effective technique to sharpen your hook, charge your scenes, and amplify your voice whether you’re a beginner or an expert.

Most writing manuals skirt craft questions with gimmicks and quick fixes rather than plugging directly into your story’s power source. Energize your fiction and boost your career with
~ a new characterization method that jumpstarts drafting, crafting, revision, and pitching.
~ skill-builders to intensify language, stakes, and emotion for your readers.
~ battle-tested solutions for common traps, crutches, and habits.
~ a dynamic story-planning strategy effective for plotters and pantsers.
~ ample examples and exercises to help you upgrade fiction in any genre.

Blast past overused tics and types with storycraft that busts your ruts and awes your audience. Whether you like to wing it or bring it, Verbalize offers a fresh set of user-friendly, language-based tools to populate your pages and lay the foundations of unforgettable genre fiction.

Pre-Order from Amazon 



Red Fish, Dead Fish--
In AUDIO-BOOK! 
Fish Out of Water: Book Two

They must work together to stop a psychopath—and save each other.

Two months ago Jackson Rivers got shot while trying to save Ellery Cramer’s life. Not only is Jackson still suffering from his wounds, the triggerman remains at large—and the body count is mounting.

Jackson and Ellery have been trying to track down Tim Owens since Jackson got out of the hospital, but Owens’s time as a member of the department makes the DA reluctant to turn over any stones. When Owens starts going after people Jackson knows, Ellery’s instincts hit red alert. Hurt in a scuffle with drug-dealing squatters and trying damned hard not to grieve for a childhood spent in hell, Jackson is weak and vulnerable when Owens strikes.

Jackson gets away, but the fallout from the encounter might kill him. It’s not doing Ellery any favors either. When a police detective is abducted—and Jackson and Ellery hold the key to finding her—Ellery finds out exactly what he’s made of. He’s not the corporate shark who believes in winning at all costs; he’s the frightened lover trying to keep the man he cares for from self-destructing in his own valor.

Brief Weekend Wrap Up

Whew...

Okay-- going out of town next week with the WHOLE FAM DAMILY... and more about that later, I'm sure you'll see the occasional picture!

Anyway--

So Kermit Flail is going up in the morning and tonight is mostly random disparate things...

First of all...

Eddie Vedder and Beyonce. HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS WAS A THING.



Second of all...

The kids got a chance to see the Kings win tonight. Their father sent me pictures--












Third of all...

Why we have Girl Scout Cookies...

I was driving to go pick up Big T and I passed a homemade sign on my right that said, "Girl Scout Cookies". I looked around, and saw nothing but suburb.

A half a block later was another sign.

A half a block later was a BANNER--and across the street from the banner was a table with a girl and her parents, her parents holding signs and the girl sitting behind the table looking hopeful.

Looking down the blocks I could see the same signs I saw, but facing the other direction.

This was genius.

Not a grocery store in sight.

It was initiative.

It was planning.

It was a family effort.

I bought four boxes.

Mmmmmmm....

Fourth of all...

My blogging is going to get spotty again-- forgive me! But tune in--I'll try not to be so stingy on the pictures. I mean, me, Mate, our kids--it's our favorite people on the road.

What could possibly go wrong? No... no... don't answer that...

We'll figure it out on our own.

Thank You

I know it's hard.

I know the world is frightening, and the people we love most hurt us without trying.

I know our politicians are indifferent and our professions more willing to discard us than train us to do better.

I know sometimes our inner pain eclipses all our strength, and often our common sense.

I know some of you bear terrible burdens that you're unwilling to share because the rest of the world is carrying their own load.

So I'm going to say thank you.

Thank you for showing up on social media every day and saying kind things or funny things.

Thank you for sending of posting things that will make me or other people laugh.

Thank you for waking up and facing the slog of life one more time, even when you feel overwhelmed.

Thank you for sharing pictures of  your fur-babies and telling us all their stories and knowing that we understand because we have fur-babies of our own.

Thank you for not finding life too painful to bear.

Thank you for reading and sharing and giving me a thousand things to read and permission to share my own.

Thank you for ranting about your bosses or your husbands or your kids or your knitting so we know we're not the only ones out there who get pissed off too.

Thank you for using words--not the most effective means of communication but the only one we've got--to continue to keep hold of those tenuous bonds that make us human.

Thank you for crying sometimes and giving your friends permission to comfort you.

Thank you for cheering when somebody you know gets home safely!

Thank you for giving virtual hugs when they're stuck at the airport for what feels like eternity.

Thank you for silly Twitter conversations.

Thank you for serious and ernest Twitter threads.

Thank you for keeping the faith that the world can get better.

Thank you for doing so many things, both great and small, to help fix it.

Thank you for building a community of the most positive faith you can muster.

Thank you for inviting me to be a part of it.

Thank you for finding a reason to wake up, every day, even when your hearts are sore and your body is sad and your soul feels worn to shreds.

And bless you, bless you all. May your sadness grow easier to bear. May your pain lessen. May you see the light, the sun, the silver lining, the blue sky, the fuzzy kitten, the beam of joy, the whatever it is that you cling to to get up one more day and do it again until it gets easier, better, and the beauty of your soul can shine through.

Thank you.

You are loved.

Amy

My Status in Two Pictures (and one cat)...

I'll be honest.

I don't do much the day after I get back from somewhere.

Especially when It took me a long time en route.

So today, besides picking up ZoomBoy and taking the dogs for a walk...

Mostly, I was a cat.

This here is a picture of a cat.

Doing what cats do.

I think she needs another nap...

Don't you?








Also, Kiernan Kelly was awesome enough to give me one of her F-Bombs for ZoomBoy.

I told him he should be careful, but I figured he'd drop it.

More than once.

It's what kids do.

Home again...

All told, it took me 27 hours to get home.
I left the hotel at 1:30 to catch a flight that was originally supposed to leave at 3:15 but had been pushed back to 4:15 and in the end didn't leave until 6 or so. By the time it got to Charlotte, my connecting flight was long gone. Can I just say that realizing I wasn't going to make it home last night was made worse somehow by realizing I had exhausted my two travel outfits, and I was going to have to wear a miniskirt, leggings, and a "Fuck This Imperialist Bullshit" Princess Leia T-shirt through three airports.  (Oddly enough, the T-shirt was a HUGE hit among the North Carolina TSA. Like three separate compliments and a whole host of smiles. Was sort of awesome.) 
Anyway, I got a hotel to sleep in--for four hours--and found myself on the shuttle at 4:20 this morning, riding grimly in the dark.
Into the silence one of the men thirty-ish young men, both wearing ball caps and scruff and looking grimly determined to get to New York-- said to his buddy, "Reed, how do you think the airline'll fuck us over today?"
Now, while some of my discomfort had been caused by a weather cell, a lot of it had been caused by the way the airline handled the weather cell, and I found myself giggling uncontrollably until we got to the terminal.
The two flights--to Dallas, then Sacramento-- weren't bad, but in the meantime, we'd had difficulty arranging childcare. Squish is still sick, and she was home, and my mom came to pick her up just when I was arriving in the airport. You don't ask my parents for favors lightly, so explaining to mom that was in town and I just needed her to leave the door open since I didn't have keys ended up with Squish staying home since I was getting there. 
I guess?
I don't know. She was alone when I got home (no big deal-- she's old enough to not burn the house down or go running naked into traffic by this time) but my parents haven't responded to my texts or phone calls since so I obviously managed to screw up arranging childcare through Chicken from 3000 miles away.
No matter--I'm here--and obviously exhausted and babbling--and the dogs are so incredibly needy.
And Dewey, the fucker, has been judging me all day.
Seems to think I should have brought him a souvenir.
Fuck him--he'll have swag to bat around and that's all he's getting.
And maybe I'll get me some sleep!

Coastal Magic

Hi all! Sorry so remiss about blogging-- was trying to catch up on work at Coastal Magic and, well, busy!

So, gonna do a mostly picture post... whee!!!


This first whack of photos was taken at West Bradenton, which is mostly an island, and is, as such, beautiful. There's also a picture of God Land (actually The Holy Land) which is a religious based theme park, featuring a life-sized Roman Coliseum where apparently reenactments of the crucifixion of Christ occur regularly. Yeah. 0.0  I had that same reaction.  It's outside of Orlando-- bring your wands for protection when you pass by.













This next thing is my hotel room, which, yes, I managed to take over and destroy in less than an hour. You're welcome.

These guys are the elevator repairmen, and they were wonderful. What makes them wonderful, you ask? Well, for one, they broke us out of the elevator when we were trapped in it, so, yeah. MY HEROES, y'all. B. They were really sweet when they did it--although giving them directions for which way to direct the screwdriver to unhook the latch from their side was unintentionally hilarious. C. They overlooked my offer of a blow job for getting us out in time for lunch. D. The guy on the left kissed his buddy's cheek when I asked to take a picture and the guy on the right just rolled his eyes and laughed.
So, see? Wonderful.



This is what was going on while I was gone. You may notice Squish looks a little flushed. Because she was sick. Because poor baby!  ZoomBoy is all better though-- he's just being lazy for the camera.



This whack of pictures is my notes for flash fiction, which, once again, went off very well. People laughed their asses off, so, you know, WIN! 
And yes-- that IS a rhinoceros with ass-less chaps. (Some smartass on twitter pointed out that ALL chaps are ass-less. So now we know.)






This is me. I, uh, later took down my hair because the frizz was tremendous.  By the way, people LOVED the wave crash shawl--I am humbled by how many people told me it was beautiful. Win!

This is Mary, and it's not the most flattering of pictures but she posed like this to mess with her PA and because I love her PA I said I'd show this picture to as many people as possible since it was already on Twitter. 
Also, she has a copy of Frog in manga and it's beautiful and hot and sexy and Webb of course will rip your heart wide open.
Enjoy.



This appears to be what Dewey spent his time doing while I was gone.
Fucking cat.

This was my last panel of Sunday. I loved them. We talked about music and had a blast and they all waved for Mate. HI MATE!


This is the weather on my last day. Sunshine on my toes--quite literally. The water felt delicious and I'm so glad I took a half-an-hour and touched the sea.



And that's it! I'm not home--I sort of stalled out in Charlotte for the night, but I should get home around 12-ish tomorrow. *sigh* I want to see my children and my dogs.  
But as you can see, it was a lovely trip!

About Guns

So... about that part in Bonfires, where the teacher talked the kid out of wielding the gun in the classroom?

You all may not know that was inspired by a true event at the school where I used to teach, long after I left. A friend of mine who uses the same dance teacher told me the story.

The teacher talked the kid down. He gave her the gun. Her voice shook and she said, "Honey, I don't know what to do with this. I've never held a gun before."

The kid said, "Just set it down. And come outside with me, please?"

The school board wasn't going to address the issue. They wanted to talk about something else, something hot button--I forget what--and they, like the school board in the story, tried to keep all the teachers who wanted to attend in the overflow room. A teacher used her speaking time to at least let the parents see that the TEACHERS were concerned.

I knew that teacher-- we'd been friends.

I met somebody else from that district (someone I don't really consider a friend because she thinks my job is morally wrong) and she told me this teacher took an early retirement.

She just wasn't the same.

I actually have had to calm myself down all week and remind myself that while I've been gone from home, my kids haven't been in school. It's okay. They're safe. BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT AT SCHOOL.

If anybody out there thinks it's okay to arm teachers--or jokes that it's okay to arm teachers or likes to say that it's okay to arm teachers and that would solve all our problems...

If anybody out there thinks a law enforcement officer wants to run into a situation in which not only the hostile element is armed but the teachers are armed and the potentially freaked out students are armed and EVERYBODY IS FUCKING ARMED BECAUSE GUNS DON'T KILL PEOPLE IT'S JUST THE SOUND THEY MAKE...

If anybody out there thinks an AR-15 is just fine to have and ignores all of the returning veterans who say hey, it's a mod away from an M-4 and WHO THE FUCK NEEDS AN M-4 TO HUNT OR SHOOT SPORT...

If anybody out there conflates common sense gun control measures with OMG THE GOOBERMENT WANTS MY GUNS...

If anybody out there thinks the kids talking to congress are being snowflakes or "crisis actors" or some other bullshit meant to calm their frazzled nerves about going home to make sweet lurve to their firearms...

Fuck off.

Fuck all the way off.

Fuck off of my timeline.

Fuck off my feed.
I am terrified every day my children go to school. Every fucking day. So is 85% of America.

Your right to have a gun is NOT more important than OUR right to hope for our children's future.

It's not more important than our children's right to live.

Stop buying the bullshit.

And don't bother me with it.

I'm exhausted with it. 
Being scared every day will do that to you.

Hiding the Moon, Part 12

 So all-- I've got a post about Coastal tomorrow, I think, but I just finished this, so you're gonna get this right now.

This is the prologue to A Few Good Fish, which I just submitted, and it's also where I'm going to leave the Burton and Ernie story-- which is what I'm going to work on right now.

So, essentially, this is there the two stories meet, and it's from Ernie's POV, and if you've enjoyed this, please read Fish Out of Water and Red Fish, Dead Fish, which both got some honors from the Paranormal Romance Guild, (Thanks guys!) and also read Racing for the Sun. 

And, of course, the full work, Hiding the Moon which should be out shortly after A Few Good Fish. 

Thanks for following along everybody-- and hey--I think I need to write some fanfic next time. I, uh, was supposed to be writing a WHOLE OTHER BOOK right now!



Burton and Ernie in the Desert

Ernie James Caufield looked around the little non-town of Victoriana with a feeling of intense joy. The place was mostly a gas station with a fast food place on one side of the highway and a tiny garage with a house for the owners on the other. Desert surrounded it, and even in the encroaching fall the landscape was flat and unexciting with saguaro and creosote bushes for miles.

But for Ernie, this was the best place on earth.

“Really?” He turned toward Burton, body practically thrumming with excitement. “I’m staying here?”

Burton arched a suspicious eyebrow and said nothing.

“It is, right? I mean that house—it’s got an add on to it. Like, new. Even the siding is new. That’s your place, right?”

Burton frowned. “How would you know that?”

Ernie grinned, unrepentant. “I heard you talking to Ace. He’s nice. Your voice said so.”

Burton’s frown intensified. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

Ernie bit his lip shyly. He had been, until he’d heard Burton talking next to him. He didn’t need the gift to reckon Lee was uncomfortable with where their relationship had gone so quickly.

Well, not that Ernie wasn’t slutty as hell on any given day, but the thing that had bloomed between him and Lee was based solely on the fact that when they looked at each other and touched, the world stopped spinning, and that included Ernie’s ever questing, witchy trouble-magnet of a brain.

Ernie didn’t need to be slutty anymore. He’d found the safety he’d been looking for his entire life.

“Safety” just didn’t know it yet.

“I was mostly asleep,” Ernie soothed. “You like Ace.”

Burton let out a sigh. “Yeah. Ace is good people. Not educated, mind you, so—”

“He’s smart though,” Ernie said sunnily. Yeah, he’d read that much from the voice on the other end of the phone. That and the fact that Burton was scary smart, and he’d never be able to tolerate someone not scary smart like he was. But he was also—whether he knew it or not—intuitive, in the same way Ernie was intuitive, but not nearly as powerful.

Burton could see through what people were supposed to be and right into what they were. He’d watched Ernie for days when he should have just done his job and shot. Ernie was still walking around converting oxygen because Burton had seen there was more to Ernie than a brainless party boy who liked to make donuts.

“Yeah, he’s smart.” Burton let out a sigh. “Look kid—”

“You know my name.” Ernie knew all the tricks to making somebody not important. Calling him “kid” was just one, just like Ernie had called Burton "Cruller" in those first hours because... God. Look at him. Wasn't like he wasn't going to have an impact as it was.

“Ernie…” And it came out like a plea, just like it had in the hotel room they’d shared—in the bed they’d shared not hours ago.

“Yeah Lee?” Ernie said sweetly.

“I need to go away—you understand—”

“Under cover.” Ernie wasn’t stupid either. “The guy who put the hit out on me—he’s bad news—”

“And he’s legit. Like, a real guy in the real military and he wanted you dead. I need to find a way to work for him so I know why. This isn’t… the hit out on you should never have happened—”

“You’re not just saving me,” Ernie said. “You’re saving anybody who carried out orders in good faith.”

Burton started a grimace, but it came out a look of complete tenderness. “You’re so… so very wise.” Like he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and cupped Ernie’s cheek. “God… so pretty.” For a moment his muscles tensed, like he was going to pull his hand back, but Ernie licked his lips, on purpose, knowing it would make him look soft and vulnerable, and wanting Burton to kiss him at least one more time before he fled.

Burton didn’t disappoint him. He leaned forward, claiming Ernie’s mouth with his own, and Ernie opened for him, as soft and as giving as he knew how to be.

He knew a lot. He was a sexual genius, mostly, and it took Burton a whole thirty seconds before he was groaning into Ernie’s mouth and trying to haul him across the center island of the SUV they were sitting in.

Ernie would have gone. Ernie would have shucked his jeans and sat on Burton’s cock if that’s what it would take to get Burton to commit, but the damned SUV was too small and Burton smacked his elbow on the steering wheel in mid-Ernie-maul-maneuver.

“Ouch!” He jerked back, letting Ernie go and looking damned embarrassed. “Dammit. Why can’t I… it’s weird what you do to me, kid.”

“Ernie,” Ernie whispered throatily. “Don’t go. Stay here. We can have all the sex you want until it doesn’t seem so strange anymore that you want me. You can quit being an assassin super black-ops guy and be my guy. Nobody will even know our names.”

He pulled in a quick breath, surprised at himself. That’s not what he’d intended to come out of his mouth at all, even a little.

Burton was looking torn as a man could get. “Ernie… I… even if I come back I might not be the guy for—”

Ernie pulled away and opened his door. “Let’s go meet Ace and Sonny,” he said, not wanting to hear it. At least when Burton was talking to his friend, Ernie wouldn’t have to hear him lie—not to himself and not to Ernie. “Will you at least be able to come visit over holidays?” he asked after he’d slid out.

Burton stopped and grabbed the duffel of clothes they’d bought Ernie on their way from Albuquerque. They’d had to leave Ernie’s little apartment, with his cats and everything, without stopping to even get clothes. Burton had called the super and made arrangements for the cats—even the strays that would just show up unbidden—and Ernie didn’t even want to know what a colossal pain in the ass tying up that loose end had been.

But Burton had done it for him. It wasn’t even part of his job, just like being Ernie’s savior wasn’t part of his job, and Ernie didn’t want to think of the prices Lee Burton had paid for stepping out of himself in order to successfully not kill Ernie James Caulfield’s scrawny psychic ass.

But he had. And he seemed to be willing to pay any price needed to keep Ernie as happy as possible considering he was a target or a dead man or worse.

Ernie was going to just keep on hoping the man would recognize that what they shared in the hotel room on the way here didn’t happen every time two men met, fell into each other’s eyes, and touched each other’s bare skin.

“No,” Burton said, sighing. “No, I won’t see you for Thanksgiving. Do you have the phone I bought you?”

Ernie nodded. “Yeah.” Clean, untraceable. It had been preloaded with Ace’s number, Sonny’s number, and Burton’s number.

The end.

“I’ll text you when I can.”

Ernie brightened. “I’ll text you when you can’t.”

Lee clapped his hands over his eyes. “Kid—”

“Ernie.”

“Ernie—”

“Don’t worry. Once you start thinking about me, I’ll fill in the gaps in the conversation just fine.” That wasn’t really how the gift worked, except Ernie was pretty sure he’d be just as connected to Burton from however far away as he was now.

“That, uh, actually makes me a little itchy…” Burton said, slamming his door in a fit of what was probably pique.

Ernie smiled, so relieved he couldn’t even let Burton piss on his parade. “It shouldn’t. You just have to tell the truth. To yourself. Especially to yourself.”

Burton’s low moan reassured Ernie to no end. It meant the man believed him. Took him seriously. Would work hard to be as truthful as possible.

Ernie already knew what Burton felt for him. He could wait until Burton figured it out in his own head.



Ace was exactly what Ernie expected except way better looking, but Sonny was not.

For one thing, Burton had figured Sonny to be spelled with a “u” and Sonny to be a she, which just went to show you that sometimes the gift was a reliable way to get information and sometimes it was a big fat nuisance that overloaded Ernie’s synapses and made him absolute garbage at dealing with the rest of the human race like a sane person.

Ace was a solid guy with a chest like a brick wall and arms built like pistons—he had hazel brown eyes and a mouth that could be cruel, Ernie supposed but when he shook Ace’s hand all he felt was decent guy trying to live a decent life.

There was a current of darkness, but everybody had that. This guy had just negotiated his current and decided how it flowed was all.

Sonny was much smaller, muscular too but in the whip thin way of someone who was all activity and nerves and not so much effort. He had blond hair—almost pretty—and a fox-pointed, but narrow face.

His darkness was like a box, and Sonny would rabbit into his box and bound out even as they were talking. The three-billionth time Sonny rabbited into the dark box in his soul, Ernie let out a rough sigh and grabbed his arm.

“I’m not here to take him away from you,” Ernie said, exasperated. “As if anybody could. Now calm down, you’re making Burton jumpy.”

Sonny gave a long, slow blink with his enormous blue-gray eyes and some of the rabbit jumped out of him. “Yeah. Sure.” He retreated behind Ace then, touching him at the shoulder, then scooped up the tiny dog yapping at his feet. The dog shut up and Ernie had a chance to look around their little house.

And it was little. The little kitchen opened up into a little dining room with a small table, which in turn opened up into a little living room. There were three doors, one on each open side. The bathroom—obviously, since Ernie could see it, a bedroom, probably Sonny and Ace’s, and a newly pained porthole to what was obviously Burton’s personal space.

“Thank you, Ace and Sonny, for letting me stay here,” Ernie said with a yawn. He wasn’t usually awake in the day. “I’ll get up and you can show me how to earn my keep, okay? But I have to nap and say goodbye to Burton.”

With that he grabbed Burton’s hand and dragged him away from their surprised host and through the door to Burton’s space.

Ernie looked around carefully once they were there, biting his lip.

“He made this for you,” he said, awe apparent. “Like… like he loves you. Like a friend—cause he’s romantically attached to Sonny which must be hard because Sonny’s not easy, but look.”

Burton looked around, saw what Ernie did. The simplicity of the room and the small serviceable attached bathroom, the nice queen-sized bed with the good mattress and a serviceable, high-quality quilt in a warm tan that matched the curtains, the wood paneling that matched the dresser. Ernie moved toward it and picked up a piece of driftwood sanded into a ball until it gleamed. There were a couple of other doo-dads there—a glass boat from San Diego, a snow globe from Tahoe, a small picture at the Chandelier Tree.

“Ace and Sonny,” Burton said quietly. “They go on vacations now and then, and they bring back things. Something for Alba their receptionist at the garage, something for Jai, their employee, something for Kat, a girl Ace sort of adopted who’s living with Ace’s parents, and something for me. Every time.”

“It makes them really happy to bring stuff home for you guys,” Ernie said easily. “It’s… nice. You brought me to a nice place. This is your…” He looked around, feeling a sort of peace here.

“Haven,” Burton said softly.

“Church,” Ernie said, naming it for what it was. “When you go out and do the things you have to, you’re thinking about Ace and Sonny, and protecting them.”

Burton shrugged. “Somebody’s got to.”

Ernie nodded. “So now you’re protecting me here too.”

“Somebody’s got to,” Burton rasped, and Ernie heard the need.

He turned and rushed into Burton’s arms, holding him tight. “Be careful,” he begged softly. “Come back. Become a part of this, of these people you love. They’re here for you.”

“I’m a—”

“A man.” Ernie tilted his face up and took Burton’s kiss like it was a given. Ernie knew it wasn’t. But he’d lost himself already. Burton was going to do dangerous things to try to bring the people behind Ernie’s contract to justice, but afterwards, Ernie was going to hope for Burton by his side.

Burton ripped away from the kiss like he was gulping air.

“Kid—”

“Ernie.”

“Ernie…” His voice ached with tenderness. “You and me, we’re not over.”

Ernie smiled. “At last, he sees.”

Burton laughed gruffly. “Okay—I’ve got to—”

And then, dammit, the goddamned shining hit Ernie right in the brain. “You’ve got to protect them too,” he said, his voice remote.

“Ace and Sonny?”

“They’re far away, and they’re tied into this and…” Ernie sighed. “Broken. One of them is broken. Tiny little pieces, a shattered fish in a bowl of refracted light. A shark who loves him. And they’re coming. You’ll know them. You’ll protect them. They’ll need you.”

Burton blinked. “I, uh…”

Oh, Goddammit. Ernie liked these people, the tough, battered one and the slick one in the suit. He couldn’t see their faces, but he could feel their decency, even through the shining. He rose to his tiptoes and kissed Burton’s cheek. “Come back to me,” he said simply.

Because that’s what you did when you loved a force of nature. You let him go be a force for good.

Burton left and Ernie fell onto the bed dispiritedly. He was crying, because his heart was on his sleeve, would always be on his sleeve had never not been on his sleeve.

He knew the door opened, and the small dog bounded on the bed and licked his face, but it wasn’t until he felt the tentative hand in his hair that he realized he might have, for once, truly landed someplace that would feel like home.

“Don’t mind Duke,” Sonny Daye said, voice matter of fact. “He knows you’re sad. I’m just gonna leave him here to keep you company while me and Ace go open the garage. You feel free to eat what you wanna—we’ll go shopping for you later, and Ace says that’s fine if you help with paperwork and stuff and—”

Ernie rolled over and grabbed Sonny’s hand. “Sonny Daye?”

“Yessir?”

“We’re friends already. Don’t worry about making me happy. Burton wouldn’t have brought me here if it wasn’t a good place. I’m comfortable. I get up around six or seven. Want me to make dinner?”

Sonny smiled a little. “That would be kind.”

“Okay then. Don’t worry. I’ll get along here just fine.”

Sonny stood and left and Ernie yawned and sank back down into the bed. In his pocket, his phone buzzed.

Was damned hard leaving you, kid. Be good until I get back.



Yeah. Until the fish and the shark got here, it was gonna be okay.