Amy Lane's Blog: Writer's Lane, page 56

Merry Kermit Flail and a Happy Reading Year!!! (And happy Release Day to Me:-)

Have I told you all how much I love Christmas Novellas?
I mean, you might have figured it out by now.
The first thing DSP ever published of mine was If I Must, in their 2009 Advent Calendar, and from that moment on, I was hooked.
I've written either a novella or a short novel every year since--sometimes two!  And every year when that story releases I think, "Writing happy is so much fun! It's one of my most joyous things, and I love how much readers love the happy too!"
So between the Christmas Novellas and the Dreamspun Desires/Dreamspun Beyond novels on this Kermit Flail I am SO HAPPY--I have a novel waiting on my Kindle for me that's waiting to take me away, make me stop thinking, give me some respite and help me remember my taste for joy and adventure and I'm so excited to provide the same for you!
To start with, the Christmas shorts!  Louisa Masters and E.J. Russell (and myself!) all offer you Christmas joy this month!  Louisa and E.J. are published in my sentimental favorite--the Advent Calendar--and I have Regret Me Not, which is released December 4th!  I also have an e-book bundle/print anthology of five of my earlier Christmas shorts posted down at the bottom--it's available Christmas Day!  So yes-- you can find yuletide cheer here at the Kermit Flail-- even if I personally don't get to decorate my house until next Saturday!
And in the Dreamspun area, we've got Anne Barwell with a Dreamspun Desire and Jenn Burke with a Dreamspun Beyond-- both these imprints are written like the old Harlequin lines, so they should be fun and exciting and pulse pounding--and safe. They should give you all the happy safe you need this holiday, so enjoy.  As will Alexa Milne's sweet short, The Matchmaker--romance happy, y'all, we has it!
And for those of you who like things a little edgier? We have Deja Black with some urban fantasy and David C. Dawson with a gritty detective story.  Because we can't have sweet all the time, right?
So here we go folks-- Merry Kermit Flail and a Happy Reading Year!  I hope you have all the joy and excitement you can stand!
YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






O Hell, All Ye Shoppers
by Louisa Masters
Ethan Hall plans to fill Saturday, December 23, with junk food and bad
TV, a day just for him amid the holiday chaos… until his baby sister
calls and begs him to go collect a present for her. At the biggest
shopping center in Australia. On the busiest shopping day of the year.
Hell no. Right?

Ethan’s soft heart gets the best of him. He battles through the
parking lot, and in the main shopping concourse, he’s trampled,
elbowed, and bombarded with terrible holiday music. Then he enters
hell itself, a specialty store aimed at women… where he meets Ty. They
bond in a sea of estrogen and manic shoppers, fighting together to
attain freedom, only to find they’re not quite ready go their separate
ways.

Buy at DSP

The author wants you all to come join in her giveaway, to be found here:  www.facebook.com/LouisaMastersAuthor

Broken Pieces
 by Deja Black
A detective and the future leader of a deadly coven. What can go wrong?
Remi Devereaux is a Louisiana born detective working murder cases in Louisville, Kentucky. While shopping for game-day with the guys, he spots the most amazing person he has ever seen. Peter is a man Remi wants with his whole being, a man he just can’t let go.

Peter Romanoff is a photographer who possesses the spirit of two creatures. Two beings that are slowly tearing him apart. He needs a Supruga, a mate, to help give him balance. When he meets Remi, there is a magnetic pull he can’t deny.

The next in line to lead a powerful coven, Peter is hunted, and the people he knows and loves are being killed. It will take Remi’s love and Peter’s skills to combat the enemy after them. Can Remi be the balance Peter needs before the coven destroys them both?
Buy at Publisher


The Deadly Lies
by David C. Dawson
The Deadly Lies is the second in the Dominic Delingpole Mysteries series. The first The Necessary Deaths was published a year ago, and won an FAPA award for mystery and suspense.
BLURB:Dominic and Jonathan are on their romantic Spanish honeymoon, and things are perfect… except Dominic has kept a secret from his husband. He’s failed to tell Jonathan that he plans to meet his former lover, Bernhardt, who is speeding on his way from Germany to present Dominic with a mysterious gift. But Bernhardt is killed in a suspicious car accident. Shortly before he dies, he sends Dominic a bizarre text message that will take the newlyweds on a hair-raising adventure. Lies upon lies plunge Dominic and Jonathan into an internet crime that could destroy the lives of millions of people. What is the mysterious Charter Ninety-Nine group? And will their planned internet assault force Dominic to choose between the fate of the world and the life of his lover?
Buy at Amazon
The Matchmaker
by Alexa Milne

Sometimes you need a little push.

Josh is a carer and Simon is his employer. Each has a secret they keep from each other, but not from the other person in their lives.

Tom may only be a teenager, but he can see the attraction between his father and Josh. Can he bring them together and create a happy ever after for all three of them?
Buy Here
The Gryphon King's Consort
by Jenn Burke
Love takes flight.

The sudden death of the Gryphon King throws the kingdom of Mythos into uncertainty, and Crown Prince Luca rushes both his coronation and an arranged marriage to a man he’s never met. Eirian is young and idealistic, and while they both want what’s best for their people, their philosophies couldn’t be more different. While Luca believes in honoring tradition, Eirian is determined to infuse modern values into their kingdom of magical creatures. When given the choice between loyalty to his husband and his own crusade, Eirian makes a decision that might doom their marriage.

Still, Luca is committed to making their union work, and that means forgiving his brash consort. But when Eirian becomes the target of a deadly conspiracy, Luca must act fast—or forever lose the chance to explore their burgeoning love.
Buy Here

The Probability of Mistletoe
by E.J. Russell
(Part of the Dreamspinner 2017 Advent Calendar)

When software engineer Keith Trainor decides to start his own company, he knows exactly who he wants as his partner: Parker Mulvaney, his best friend from high school. But in the ten years since graduation, their contact has dwindled to nothing, and it’s all Keith’s fault. If he hadn’t tried to kiss Parker under the mistletoe at the winter formal their senior year, Parker wouldn’t have bolted. At their ten-year reunion, Keith intends to do everything in his geeky power to make amends.

Parker should have known that scheduling the reunion the day before Christmas Eve was a recipe for a headache of monster proportions. But when Keith sends a text that he’ll be attending, the evening doesn’t look so bleak. Can an unnecessary makeover, a nostalgic breakfast, an abortive shopping trip, and a whole lot of mistletoe culminate in a long-overdue first kiss?

Buy at Publisher


Music speaks directly to the heart.
Two very different men face turning points in their lives after the collapse of long-term relationships….
Joel is a music teacher who knows it’s time to forget his ex and move on, while Marcus runs a lawn-mowing business and has come to Wellington to escape the reminders of a recent breakup. Although they’re opposites, when Joel and Marcus connect, their romance has the potential to hit all the right notes.
Too bad neither of them feels ready for new love.
With family and friends in common, dating is risky—things could get messy if it doesn’t work out. The sweet song of possibility draws them to each other, though, and they share a kiss following a Chopin prelude.  But it will take some practice and perseverance to find their perfect harmony….
Buy at DSP  

 

Regret Me Not
by Amy Lane

Pierce Atwater used to think he was a knight in shining armor, but then his life fell to crap. Now he has no job, no wife, no life—and is so full of self-pity he can’t even be decent to the one family member he’s still speaking to. He heads for Florida, where he’s got a month to pull his head out of his ass before he ruins his little sister’s Christmas.

Harold Justice Lombard the Fifth is at his own crossroads—he can keep being Hal, massage therapist in training, flamboyant and irrepressible to the bones, or he can let his parents rule his life. Hal takes one look at Pierce and decides they’re fellow unicorns out to make the world a better place. Pierce can’t reject Hal’s overtures of friendship, in spite of his misgivings about being too old and too pissed off to make a good friend.

As they experience everything from existential Looney Tunes to eternal trips to Target, Pierce becomes more dependent on Hal’s optimism to get him through the day. When Hal starts getting him through the nights too, Pierce must look inside for the knight he used to be—before Christmas becomes a doomsday deadline of heartbreak instead of a celebration of love.
BUY AT AMAZON


Pre-order as an e-book bundle
Preorder as a print anthology
Contains the following five Christmas novellas:
If I Must Joel Martinez, a practical and organized computer programmer, is roommates with Ian Cooper, a certified IQ-in-the- stratosphere mathematical genius who literally can't find his own underwear in the mess of his day-to-day life. When Joel uneasily leaves Ian for the holidays, he ends up telling stories to his sister and discovers he feels much more for Ian than he thought. So when Ian calls, distraught because the only other thing in his life that loves him (a half-feral cat named Manky Bastard) is going to have to be put down, Joel hurries back home hoping that opposites really do attract.
Christmas with Danny Fit In a perfect moment of cold November sunshine, pudgy accountant Kit Allen realizes Jesse, his new office assistant, is everything he's ever dreamed about in a man. Feeling supremely unworthy and desperate to get a life—even an imaginary one—Kit embarks on a self-improvement campaign featuring DVD fitness guru, Danny Fit.In the meantime, Jesse has begun a subtle campaign of his own, one designed to bring Kit out of his DVD dream world and into Jesse's arms. Jesse isn't perfect—he's no Danny Fit—but he hopes that the kind, funny man who has been looking at him so soulfully since his first day at work has what it takes to be everything Jesse has always wanted.
Puppy, Car, and Snow Ryan’s entire life changed the night Scott surprised him in a bathroom at a party.  Now Ryan’s soulless climb up the corporate ladder has stalled—but his quality life has become a whirlwind of laughter, joy and surprises, thanks to Scotty’s playful, gentle heart.After three years together, they’re going to Ryan’s parents’ cabin to spend Christmas.  Snowed in by the weather and locked under the icy glare of his mother’s disapproval, can Ryan show he has found the most profound happiness in the simplest of things?
Turkey in the Snow Since Hank Calder’s four-year-old niece, Josie, came to live with him, his life has been plenty dramatic, thank you, and the last thing he needs is a swishy, flaming twinkie to complicate things. But when Justin, the daycare worker at his gym, offers to do something incredibly nice for Hank—and for Josie—Hank is forced to reconsider. Justin may be flamboyant in his speech and gestures, but his heart and kindness are as rock steady and dependable as anyone, even Hank, could ask for. Can Hank trust in his dramatic “turkey in the snow” to offer his heart the joy he and Josie have never known?
Going Up! Every dreary day, Zach Driscoll takes the elevator from the penthouse apartment of his father's building to his coldly charmed life where being a union lawyer instead of a corporate lawyer is an act of rebellion. Every day, that is, until the day the elevator breaks and Sean Mallory practically runs into his arms.Substitute teacher Sean Mallory is everything Zach is not—poor, happy, and goofily charming. With a disarming smile and a penchant for drama, Sean laughs his way into Zach's heart one elevator ride at a time. Zach would love to get to know Sean better, but first he needs the courage to leave his ivory tower and face a relationship that doesn't end at the "Ding!"

Regret Me Not

So, I'm putting this up on Kermit Flail on Monday, but I wanted to remind you all that Regret Me Not will be out on Monday too!

Pierce Atwater used to think he was a knight in shining armor, but then his life fell to crap. Now he has no job, no wife, no life—and is so full of self-pity he can’t even be decent to the one family member he’s still speaking to. He heads for Florida, where he’s got a month to pull his head out of his ass before he ruins his little sister’s Christmas. 

Harold Justice Lombard the Fifth is at his own crossroads—he can keep being Hal, massage therapist in training, flamboyant and irrepressible to the bones, or he can let his parents rule his life. Hal takes one look at Pierce and decides they’re fellow unicorns out to make the world a better place. Pierce can’t reject Hal’s overtures of friendship, in spite of his misgivings about being too old and too pissed off to make a good friend. 

As they experience everything from existential Looney Tunes to eternal trips to Target, Pierce becomes more dependent on Hal’s optimism to get him through the day. When Hal starts getting him through the nights too, Pierce must look inside for the knight he used to be—before Christmas becomes a doomsday deadline of heartbreak instead of a celebration of love.
Buy at Amazon

Buy at DSP


*  *  *  

So-- about the excerpt--

I love watching those old movies--Audrey Hepburn, Spencer Tracy, Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart-- the dialog is just gorgeous. You never saw those characters naked, but their words said everything you needed to hear about how much they meant to each other when the clothes were off.

I loved writing this book because it was two characters, alone in a beach house, with their damage. Pierce's is both physical and emotional, but Hal's got his own baggage, and as they open up their suitcases, they're both surprised to see they can deal with the other person's items. 

This bit isn't particularly smoldering--but there's an aching here-- each guy wants to know if their flirtation, their banter, their companionship, can become something real.

Excerpt:

By the time Hal got back with the laundry, Pierce was sitting on the bed and staring at his feet. Yes, he’d slipped the tennis shoes on—but tying them was going to be a challenge.

“Oh, there you are,” Hal said, poking his head in. “I set the basket on top of the washer so we don’t forget to keep the parade moving. How are you—oh!” And God, he sounded so natural. “Would you like some help?”

[image error] “Augh!” Pierce voiced, because the frustration had been breaking him into a sweat for the last ten minutes. “How do you stand me? I’m worthless! I can’t even put on my shoes!”

Hal paused on his way into the room. “There’s got to be a Shakespeare quote in there,” he said, like he was thinking about it hard. “About how a man’s worth is more than his ability to lace his boots. Now you sound like you’re in asshole mood—you’re not going to kick me in the face if I squat down to tie those, are you?”

“No,” Pierce told him—but sulkily. “I try not to hurt the people who help me. Usually.”

“So that means there’s some danger,” Hal said, just to make sure. “That’s good to know. You can protect yourself if you know the dangers.”

Everything in Pierce’s brain backed up and fountained out his ears. “You can’t,” he said fervently, because this suddenly seemed important. “You can’t. A relationship isn’t like that—you can’t protect yourself, even if you know the dangers. You protect yourself and you’ll just... it’s like a circuit. You can’t make a circuit with the vinyl still on the wires. You either strip the protection off to make the circuit complete and hope it doesn’t explode, or nothing ever happens.”

Hal paused, kneeling at his feet, his hands warm on Pierce’s calf. “That’s... well, off topic, actually. And I’d love to know where it came from. But for right now, I just need to know if you’re going to kick me in the face.”

He rubbed Pierce’s calf absentmindedly, his hands warm and strong and capable. The taut panic wire that had been zinging up Pierce’s spine since he’d realized that no, he couldn’t really bend far enough to put on his shoes yet, and how embarrassing that was when this young, attractive man was... was putting himself at close range—that panic wire stilled, muted, the charge of embarrassment dampening until Pierce could breathe again.

“No,” Pierce whispered huskily. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Hal blinked a couple of times, looking up at him. “How do you strip the wires?” he asked, the absentminded rubbing turning into a caress.

The question made Pierce’s eyes burn. “I have no idea.”

The corners of Hal’s mouth turned down, and he stopped touching Pierce and made quick work of the laces. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. He stood, offering Pierce a hand up, and Pierce took it, then accepted the hated cane so he could make his way through the house.

[image error]
Once he got outside, the cold and humid breeze took his breath away. He kept walking, expecting Hal to catch up at any moment, but he was surprised when he’d gone nearly a hundred yards before Hal trotted up to his side. Hal zipped up a windbreaker of his own before handing Pierce a zippered hoodie.

“It’s frickin’ cold out here!” he called, and Pierce grimaced.

“You guys are a little spoiled,” he said through the wind. He remembered going running in the chill of a Sacramento winter, when it got down to the thirties.

“Yeah, well, humor me.” Hal stood solicitously and helped him on with the hoodie; then together they soldiered through the loose sand that formed a pathway through the rushes toward the harder sand of the beach. Hal’s hand hovered under his elbow for a few steps, and Pierce, eschewing his pride for once, paused and took his hand, putting it rmly under his arm.

“People will think we’re a couple,” Hal said, and he had to talk over the sound of the surf, so it was hard to know if he was irting or embarrassed.

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”

Hal squeezed his elbow in response, and they hit the harder-packed sand of the beach proper.
Pierce swung toward the pounding surf and paused. The waves were decent-sized but still small compared to high tide in Monterey or Half-Moon Bay, and the horizon tinted toward gold instead of gray-blue.

But still, it was a great unfathomable deep, and since he’d hauled his limping ass out here, he wanted a good look at it.

“Why are you stopping?” Hal tugged on him, and Pierce bit his lip, standing still.

“Because,” he said, having trouble raising his voice. “It deserves our respect, don’t you think? If you don’t respect the ocean, or time, or fate, or the big things in the world, you sort of have it coming when they knock you on your ass.”

Hal stopped tugging and drew up even with him. Shyly, with tentative little pauses and jerks, he put his arm around Pierce’s shoulders.

Pierce let him.

“Does it make you feel alone?” he asked, voice throbbing with a loneliness he rarely showed but Pierce had guessed at.

“Yeah,” Pierce said, wrapping his arm around Hal’s waist. Comfort, right? Maybe.
[image error]

“Then why do we keep coming here?”

“Because it’s great and vast and holy,” Pierce told him, unexpectedly moved by having it right there, in front of him, when he’d ignored it for the better part of two weeks. “And it lets us touch our toes to its surf and play.”

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to strip the vinyl off?” Hal asked quietly. “Let your wires touch?”
Pierce swallowed, although the question wasn’t unanticipated.

“I have to know I’m strong enough to take the charge,” he answered. Oh, he liked this metaphor. It was another layer of vinyl between him and the pain of the divorce, and his bitterness, and of loving someone enough for the love to hurt.

“I’ll test it gently,” Hal whispered. “When you’re ready.” 

Winner, Winner, Mack and Cheese Dinner!

And another short take tonight--but hopefully a funny one :-)

I did something funky to my knee--it's swollen and it hurts and I've been taking Motrin for my knee but it's bad for my stomach and that hurts too, and generally, after my afternoon nap, I put on my pajamas and just left them on.

Mate came home and got Squish for her last practice, and I got up and did dishes and started dinner. Mac and ham and cheese. Yum!  (I cooked a ham Tuesday night so that it might last all week. Tomorrow, I'm making BEANS!)

Anyway, I'd done a visual of the refrigerator, but I hadn't checked on how old the ingredients were. Sure enough, I opened the cheese and it was moldy.

Crap! I tried to text Mate so he could stop for cheese on his way home with Squish, but he dropped her off and called me instead. He's been assistant coaching for two teams this year and full-time coaching for Squish's. One of those teams was having it's end of the year party tonight, and the girls wanted him to come say hi.

So, okay. Fine. I had to run get cheese.

But... knee. And comfy. And... *whine*

I got the cheese, made us dinner, and it was ready by the time Mate got back from saying hi to his 10/Under group.  We ate in front of the TV (watched 12 Shorts by Disney, it's on Netflix and some of them made me sob like a baby.)  Not long after the kids went to bed, because hey, we really were running that late.

"So," I said, pulling my head into getting up to work. "How was your day."

He looked up from his computer--which he'd opened right after he'd finished eating--and said, "So busy I'm not even sure it's done yet.  How was yours?"

"I went to Safeway in my pajamas."

HIs eyes widened, and he looked at me in my giant T-shirt and the purple pajama bottoms with the snowflakes on the ass.

And then he burst out laughing and offered a high-five.

"You win!" he chuckled. I accepted my five gratefully and got up to work.

It was good to win at something.

Telephone

Brief story tonight--started Fish on a Bicycle and got tired super quick!

But this was pretty funny--and it all started with a really shitty phone connection.

My stepmom called me to see if we were interested in going to Auburn for their light festival. The connection was shitty, but I tried to tell her that we couldn't--I'd already bought tickets for the Sacramento Gay Men's Chorus.

"Where are you going again?" she asked, after I told her to ask the older kids.

"The Sacramento Gay Men's Chorus--they're down in Sacramento and--"

"The Sacramento Day Men's Chorus?" The phone was really staticky-- I think that's what she said.

"No, the Sacramento Gay Men's Chorus--they're doing a thing with elves and--"

"The Sacramento Bay Men's Chorus?"

"No! The SACRAMENTO. GAY. MEN'S. CHORUS. Gay! As in HO-MO-SEX-U-AL!" (Behind me I could hear my kids crack up.)

"I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS! I just didn't know that's what you were saying!"

"I said we're going to their performance because I bought tickets!"

"I knew that. Anyway--I'll call the older kids."

"I"m sure they'd love to go."

I hung up a few sentences later, and when I turned around, Mate was giving me one of these:

0.0

"What?"

"You and your mother have the weirdest conversations sometimes."

"It helps when we can hear each other."

"Word."

The little things...

So a friend sent me the pretty glass necklace today as an early Christmas present and I love it. She also sent me the witch's cauldron-- and the Goddess pendant I wear in perpetuity.  I love her taste, which is great since I have NONE of my own.

I lose everything--gifts, treasures, I am a nightmare to shop for. I've managed to cling to four pieces of jewelry she's given me, and that's a record. I'm so very grateful.

So that's one little thing.

The other little thing is that I spent much of my day in the car. Dropped Mate off at Intel so he could catch a company flight to Portland at 5:15 in the morning, came home, cat-napped, took ZoomBoy to school, came home, helped Squish get ready, dropped her off at school, took the dogs walking, came home, cat napped, went to aqua, picked up kids, came home, NAPPED FOR REAL, got up, worked, and then went to pick Mate up and, yeah, get takeout for dinner, because no. I wasn't cooking.

Anyway, Mate's work consists of seven large buildings, labeled FM 1--7.

Tonight, as I was driving the unfamiliar route to FM 7 (he's usually in FM5) I started counting off.

FM 1, FM 2, FM 3...

Got to pick Mate up and when he hopped in the car he said, "You found it!"

"Yup! Fuck Me 7!"

He shot me the look of a man who realized at 4:30 a.m. that in order to make his 5:15 flight he had to drive like a bat out of hell in the opposite direction to get his ID out of the car he loaned his daughter.

A hunted look.

A, "For Christ's sake, woman, are you kidding me?" look.

"It stands for Folsom," he said, sounding dazed.

I laughed maniacally. I was in that car as he was being Bat-Out-of-Hell Man. "I have sadly neglected your education," I said.

"Folsom. Module."

"Fuck me 1, fuck me 2, fuck me 3--"

"Folsom."

"If you want to keep thinking that, I understand."

Poor guy. I cackled like a loon all the way to the drive-thru.

And in spite of it all, knitting happened!

Busy weekend!

Friday I spent rolling out the newsletter, which was exciting!  There's still some glitches, but if you're interested in updates on new releases and future projects, we're hammering out the kinks. Feel free to sign up HERE. 

So, that was Friday, Saturday was going to a craft fair--or, rather the same craft fair as last year, but without the rain and with Chicken which was even more fun!  Mate and Squish went to a King's Game Saturday night while Mom stayed home and worked. And today was a little bit of house cleaning and some shopping. Squish is going on a camping trip in December-- the 6th grade science trip--and she needed a bundle of things, including boots.

We took the opportunity to visit toiletries, including Old Spice More Swagger scented body wash, and it's companion, Man-Sized Swagger. BTW? If you get a chance to look at men's deodorant for fun (like you do) by all means enjoy the ad copy on the back. It's a barrel full of "scent elves" I can tell you that!

Whew! Did I mention everything we did?

I don't know.  Something about finishing a book and writing a blog tour and hey...what's this? Knitting?

Well, yeah.

Today, after the shopping and the housecleaning I rewarded myself for finishing the book by knitting.

Well... mostly.

You may notice lots of awkward pictures of the animals from close range.

This could be because the animals take that whole, "Hey, Mom's sitting down and not moving!" thing as a free market invitation to move in.

And on the one hand, it's sweet and squishy and warm.

On the other... there is no knitting getting done which is my only excuse for watching TV, dammit!

So--this weekend I've seen Billy Elliot and The Professional on the re-watch side of things, and Kong: Skull Island and Bruce Springsteen: In His Own Words in the "New to Me" side of things.

Loved them all.

Seriously--I cried like a baby during the Springsteen biopic. It was beautiful, and frankly, he's so good with words he makes me want to quit. Game over. Done. Finito. I'll never write as good as Bruce so why try.

But then, I 'm not singing rock'n'roll so I might still want to keep going.

And once I move the animals I may keep knitting too!

Night all!

Some Friday Announcements...

So, I'll start with exciting business, and then I'll move to a nice little moment with Squish just now, are we ready?

First off-- I (meaning Ambrosia) added Scorched Haven to Instafreebie--if you wish to download it, go here: Instafreebie--Scorched Haven 

Now when you're there, there's a little box that says if you want to hear more from this author (me!) check that little box.

If you check the little box, you'll get a copy of my newsletter which I (meaning Ambrosia) worked on all week.

Second off-- If you already read Scorched Haven on my website (it's the same story) and STILL want to sign up for the newsletter, go here: NEWSLETTER SIGNUPS. 

The newsletter is a new thing, and we're going to play with it a bit, but the first version (volume 1) should go out tomorrow!

So that was VERY exciting. Also, I finished Crocus, the sequel to Bonfires, and that's exciting too! (For those of you who didn't see the free short on Amber Kell's blog, you can find it here: Amber Kell's Birthday Bash)

So that's all exciting, right?

Woo-hoo!!

Anyway-- our Thanksgiving was lovely. Lovely and tranquil-- for once, we only had one family commitment, and we had a chance to stay and play games. Food was great, games were great, family was wonderful. I really am grateful that my children and my parents and stepsister and her son were there--good, good moment. I was happy.

And today, well, I worked most of the day, but I sat down with the kids to watch a movie (InnerSpace) and then Twelve Disney Shorts, which were, well, wonderful but...

But The Little Match Girl. Which ended exactly the way the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale ended. On a note of unbearable sadness.

And the kids kept hoping for a happy ending, right up until... there wasn't one.

Anyway--Squish's face crumpled and she cried and cried, and I hugged her and told her that Hans Christian Anderson loved all the children of his village, but he knew they didn't all get a happy ending in this life so he liked to write and hope for a happy ending in the next.

She cried harder.

So I told her, "Well, you know honey, those stories really weren't for kids anyway."

"Good," she said. "We should give Trump a book of them to read, and say 'Look! It has PICTURES!'"

I told her she was very wise, and if she had her way, no child would end up like the kids in a Hans Christian Anderson story.  I really can't wait for her to take over the world.

The Haiku of Category Romance

 So, I got asked to go teach a class about world building in Reno this April (not at RT, this is at Truckee Community College) and I was going through my notes (okay--I was putting my brain together because I haven't spoken about this for a while) and one of the points I've made before (and Damon Suede makes a lot as well) is that while people think of contemporary romance as "real", as much world building goes into a contemporary romance as goes into a paranormal romance or urban fantasy romance, people just aren't aware.

When you're writing a contemporary romance, and you're deciding on tone, you need to make some world building decision. Example?

Manny Get Your Guy: Taylor was injured in the military. Is he bitter about his service? Is he worried about his appearance? Is he suicidal? Have PTSD? Is his life still threatened about his injuries? Can he still get wood? Do these injuries provide interest to the love story or are they a tremendous obstacle to the lovers getting together? Is he tortured because of them? Or are they just a practical consideration?

The answer to these questions almost uniformly lies in, "What kind of world am I building?"  And the nuances of that world are very much dictated by the fact that Manny is category romance.

Now, for those folks who think, "Well, that makes category romances easier to write and boring to read!" you're missing the point.

Writing for a category does place some restrictions on the prose and the world--but it opens up some possibilities that true lovers of the genre appreciate.

The same restrictions placed on Taylor's injuries--that they can't be too graphic, too painful, or too much the focus of the character--are also placed on sex. Not too graphic, not too painful, and NOT the focus of the plot. They're also the same restrictions placed on the emotional pain the characters undergo. Channing Lowell was saddened by the loss of his sister--he wasn't suicidal.

But those restrictions also set us free.

Much like writing a Christmas story, when I feel free to focus on the romance, on the small, meaningful personal interactions that make the coming together of two people such a delight, limiting the amount of heartache in a story can also free the writer up to simply focus on the romance. The myriad combinations of quirks, flaws, and heroism that makes up a successful couple are quite simply a delight to explore. Of course Tino wasn't going to be a virgin by the end of the book--but how he got to that deflowering, that was the real question, and watching him and Channing dance was part of the joy of writing it.

I think some of the confusion for readers who haven't been exposed to a whole lot of category romances comes in the subtleties and nuances that have been forced upon us by the form.

Think about it as a type of poetry.

Anybody who has ever tried to write a sonnet or a villanelle or a haiku poem has spent copious hours tapping their pen on their desk, trying to sound out the beats and rhythmic declensions, while also utilizing the appropriate rhyme, and, hey, for fun, making those few words mean something.

And the smaller, more compact the poetry form, the more ingenuity was demanded of the poet.

Often, the writers of haiku poetry had giant lexicons of each word used in poetry, along with that word's denotative and connotative meaning, including colors, sounds, and smells that could be associated with that one word.

Think about it--one word.

Autumn, for instance.

Autumn is the year end, it is the time of dying, it is the time of long shadows, it is the end of summer, or the end of love, or the end of joy, or the end of a long life. Autumn is gold, amber, green, and brown, it is the smell of smoke, it is the haze over the sun. It's a certain shade of blue that makes most people's hearts ache in their chests, and a time when you gather your harvest to see if all your work paid off, and how long, how bitter, the winter would be.

Farm animals are slaughtered in the autumn. Clothes are gathered to repair in the autumn, in anticipation of long winter nights.

One word, and a thousand different meanings. That one word depended on the few syllables on either side of it to determine why it was there.

A category romance is like that.

Yes, the tropes are established--there are even trope lexicons, like there are word lexicons for poetry. But for each trope, there are infinite combinations with other tropes, and with the characters depicted within the trope, to make a different story. An experienced category romance reader will pick up the book, spot the tropes, and then wait to see what the characters will do with them. The beats of the story are already established, but the nuances are new. The ending of the story is always the same--but it's never the same, because the characters are different, and the roads they took to that happy ending were different and the trope combinations were different, every damned time.

And for people who accept this, embrace it, envelop the play of trope and character that can be found in a compact little haiku volume of romance, the clues to romance, to happy ever after, to individual human beings finding contentment in a vast and impersonal society are there for the taking.

How many people were surprised when Harry Potter ended up with Ginny Weasley at the end of the series?

I betcha category romance readers weren't. We saw that romance develop from Ginny's first stirrings of hero worship to her mortification that Harry should be the one to rescue her in the second book. We saw it through Ginny's determination to have her own life and her own suitors and not to let the big doofus break her heart, and through Harry's ill-fated attempts to court another girl. No matter what the characters were doing or saying to each other at the time, we saw the clues between the two of them that told us they would be together, and the ending was not so much a surprise as it was a sweet fulfillment of a long-ago promise.

An arranged marriage of sorts--which is another favored trope.

Christmas novellas are my favorite category romance to write--I won't lie. There is something about writing a story for the holidays that frees me to write as happy as I dare, as sweetly as I possibly can. But the rules to the Christmas story are just as strict as the rules to the Dreamspun Desire--and I try never to forget it.

In fact, I revel in it.

I'll write unapologetically happy as often as the rules will let me, and Regret Me Not is an example of following category romance rules (even if it's not a Dreamspun Desire.) My characters need to be happy at the end, they need not to be too consumed with their own pain, and they need to have learned something by the end that lets them be happy.

And hopefully, they need to be likable enough for us to want to see them happy.

Regret Me Not is coming out December 4th. I love this Christmas novella, this "Christmas trope" of category romance. Pierce and Hal make me sublimely happy--and I hope you love them too.

* * *

I hope you all have a lovely Thanksgiving--whether spent by yourself or with family. May you have peace and some joy, and please, I offer every prayer to any deity that you are fed, clothed, warm, and safe as you read this.

Take care!

Amy

Watch This Space

 So, I'm putting together a newsletter.

Okay--so that's misleading.

Ambrosia who is working as my PA right now is putting together a newsletter for me, because otherwise, I'd be a lost and lonely loser, wandering the newsl
etter dessert without a compass.

 Anyway, the good news is, the entire family got to hold the baby and I got a friend on Friday to play with.

The other good news is, we're going to put Scorched Haven out on Instafreebie, and all you'll have to do is sign up for the newsletter to get it!

I'll also have links here, on Twitter, on FB,  and I think Ambrosia is going to be dropping the newsletter links and the Instafreebie links in all the promotional groups on FB too.

So, uh, yeah.

Newsletter!

Anyway--

I commissioned a cover for Scorched Haven, and it's lovely, and I thought you all would like to see it! But watch this space for the newsletter signups, okay?  And for the link from Instafreebie, in case you haven't read the story yet.

Friday, November 25th, we'll roll everything out. It's coming!

Also--

Zoomboy got this 3D model of a TIE-Fighter from my parents for his birthday--and he put it together in two hours. He did a great job, and I foresee another hobby in his future.

He was so damned proud.

BTW--did you know that the TIE in TIE-Fighter stands for Twin Impulse Engines?

Me neither!

ZoomBoy--he's pretty up on shit, amIrite?

Anyway-- like the title says--watch this space!

The ABC's of a Long Weekend...

First of all, our Saturday was as carefully orchestrated as a Bolshoi Ballet--pick up kid's friend, take Mate to first soccer game, pick up Big T, pick Mate up, take Mate and Squish to second soccer game, watch this one, take everybody to store to pick up cake and snacks, take everybody to pizza place to pick up pizza, take everybody to slot car race to celebrate ZB's bd, drop kid's friend off, come home so mom can write.

We ran into some glitches, but the basic takeaway was this--

A. SQUISHY SCORED A GOAL!!!

B. Even if you're having a birthday party at a slot car racing place, it's important to remember napkins and forks for the cake. And embarrassing if you don't. So. Embarrassed.

C. Make sure the kangaroo pocket of your hoodie isn't ripped if you put your cell phone in it.

D. If it is ripped, and you're jump-starting your daughter's car (as Mate did), don't tilt your body over a storm drain.

E. The following conversation really happened:

       Mate: Shit! My phone went down the drain!

       Me: Like the 'OMG I lost all battery!' drain?

       Daughter Chicken: No--like the PENNYWISE LIVES THERE drain!

       Me: Oh. Well. Damn.

F. Should you EVER have that conversation, research your options first.

G. When returning to the storm drain after researching your options (and dropping off kid's friend), have two plans.

H. Make sure one of them includes a 12 foot ladder and someone who can fit in the drain and isn't afraid of small spaces.

I. A headlamp helps.

J. If you're trying to film your husband doing this, don't give the camera to your son because odds are good he'll do an in depth study of your ass that goes on forever, both in the realms of time and space.

K. Make sure you celebrate your husband's ingenuity when he gets his phone back--that's important.

L. Suggest an extra dessert after this, because it's been a long assed day.

M. Be ready to write anyway, because, dammit, deadline.

N. If you can, fold the laundry next to your bed or you might have the following experience:

I wake up in the middle of the night and ZB is lay ing on the unfolded laundry, his body angled down so all I can see his his disembodied
head, levitating above the level of my mattress.

        Me: *gropes ZB's face* What the HELL????

         ZB: I had a bad dream.

         Me: I HAD A BAD WAKE! OMG! Are you all attached?

         ZB: Yeah.

Me: Then fine, get in bed.

O.  If your kid is almost adult sized, you WILL kick him out after five minutes because the last thing your bed needs is another body--even one with the head attached.

P. After a day like that, a little nappy-poo on Sunday is pretty much a requirement.

Q. I took that nap. It was DELICIOUS.

R. And 2000K to go before I sleep.