Z.A. Maxfield's Blog, page 33
May 25, 2012
Erotic Romance Scavenger Hunt
The Erotic Romance Scavenger Hunt is a blog hop featuring nineteen authors, a ton of exclusive material and fantastic giveaways, and an amazing grand prize for one lucky scavenger hunter.
Just joined the hunt? Click here to start from the beginning.
RULES: Hidden within each post on the hunt will be a single letter that is red. Jot those letters down because they’re part of the following mystery phrase you’ll need to unscramble:
_ _ _ _ I _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ R _ _ _ _At the bottom of each post will be a link to your next stop on the hunt. Once you’ve completed the hunt, read all the fantastic exclusive material and entered all the individual giveaways, unscramble the letters you collected to reveal the mystery phrase. When you’ve uncovered the phrase, fill out the entry form in order to qualify for the grand prize. Grand prize is open internationally. You must be 18 or older to enter.
The hunt will only be open for 72 hours so play fast! Entries sent without the correct phrase or without contact information will not be considered. All entries must be received by May 28 at noon Central Time.
On with the hunt!
Today, I have the pleasure of hosting Katrina Strauss. Katrina was one of the first m/m authors I ever read and she remains a favorite to this day!
Katrina Strauss discovered her love of romance novels with childhood peeks at her grandmother’s paperbacks. As an author, she pays homage to the timeless genre with her own dark, daring twist. She currently lives with her family in Savannah, Georgia. When not writing, she watches entirely too much anime.
Find out more about Katrina on her WEBSITE or her BLOG.
NOW FOR KATRINA’S EXCLUSIVE MATERIAL!Greetings from Katrina Strauss! If you’ve read Blue Ruin 4: Need You Tonight, you’ll recognize the following scene as the car ride from chapter twenty-three. However, this version is written from the passenger’s point-of-view. It was a bit challenging, as Dusty is blind, so I really had to put myself in the character’s shoes. In fact, I wrote it three years ago as the opening chapter to Dusty’s spinoff book before other projects forced me to set it on the backburner. Maybe someday I’ll finish writing that particular book. In the meantime I thought I’d publicly share this chapter, for the first time ever, as a Blue Ruin outtake.
** Exclusive outtake from Blue Ruin 4: Need You Tonight — Dusty’s POV **
Dusty knew when they’d left the city. He could tell by the cooler breeze against his face, the fresh scents of pine and grass. Even the faint hint of manure proved a refreshing change. Born blind, he’d never seen colors, yet he associated these scents with the sound of the word “green” and the pure, clear chime of crystal. The city, on the other hand, had always struck him as being a drab-sounding brown or gray. He’d mentioned this impression earlier to his friend Blue, whose colorful name held its own special connotations, while they were stuck in a traffic jam. Blue had told him those colors perfectly described the smoggy haze that had laden the city that past summer. Dusty hadn’t known how to explain to Blue it was more than pollution bogging down the crowded metropolis and casting its hue on all that fell in its shadow.
Yes, it was cleaner here outside of the city, not only devoid of the stench of exhaust and fumes, but Dusty’s mind was cleaner, less cluttered by the constant buzz he picked up, like radio static, of too many souls packed in close proximity, their thought-streams often as congested as the city streets, the negative ones too often tainting the good. Yes, life in the city could prove unhealthy not only for the body but the mind and, especially, the soul. It was because of this that he’d accepted Blue’s offer to arrange a much-needed vacation in a smaller town, about two hours free of the tangled urban sprawl.
That, and Dusty was intrigued by the impressions he picked up whenever Blue mentioned his soon-to-be host, Cameron Carter. Although they’d never met, the mechanic had graciously agreed to let Dusty stay with him a few months, allowing Dusty time to recharge from the drain of the recent murder case he’d helped solve, one which had nearly cost him and Blue their lives. Dusty shuddered, remembering the sheer evil he’d felt as the killer’s soul had risen from the shell of its former host and whispered and slithered around him, one final taunt, before taking leave. Some souls were at peace once they left the mortal realm, but not that one — that one would be back, to wreak havoc and discord elsewhere, as would others, and so Dusty must regain his strength before he was called upon to help again.
A slight change in atmosphere charged the air. “We’re almost there,” Dusty said.
“Yeah,” Blue confirmed. “Just passed a sign that said Bethel Ridge, one mile.” When they’d first met, Blue’s tone had often rang of surprise at Dusty’s offhanded, accurate observations. Now, Blue seemed to accept such moments with bemused curiosity. “How’d you know?”
“I can feel the people.” Unlike the city they’d just left, however, the congregation of souls Dusty sensed down the road were fewer, quieter, more relaxed and at ease with life in their simpler surroundings. Yes, Bethel Ridge could prove a welcome break.
“I’ll call Cam and let him know we’re close.” Dusty heard the click of the cell phone being opened, the musical tones of keys being thumbed. “Hey, Cam. Yeah, we’re almost there. You said turn left past the McDonald’s on Wildflower Drive, fourth house on the left past the row of mailboxes.” Blue paused, and his voice softened. “Yeah, it’ll be nice to see you, too.”
Dusty never searched inside his friends’ thoughts without permission, but between plain old intuition, and the details he’d gleaned in conversation, Dusty knew that Blue trusted Cameron, although it had been a hard-earned trust, one which didn’t come lightly, and that knowledge was assurance enough that he’d find sanctuary in this stranger’s home.
Dusty also knew Blue had been intimate with Cameron and cared for him as more than a friend, but that he held those feelings at bay, even lying to himself, so as not to hurt Derek, the man who held the strings to Blue’s heart. Dusty himself had indulged in certain pleasures with both Blue and Derek, but he also understood that no matter how open their relationship, no one could touch what the couple shared. To bask in the love that burned between them, even for only a few passionate encounters, was privilege enough. Not to mention it had been the hottest sex Dusty had enjoyed in his life.
But now Cameron — Cameron had tried to come between them, and he’d failed. Dusty couldn’t help but speculate as to how this made the mechanic feel, to have been left out in the cold, to know he could have Blue on the side but would never be Blue’s first choice. It also left Dusty to suspect an ulterior motive on Blue’s part in bringing him to Bethel Ridge, but again, he wouldn’t pry into his friend’s mind. For a born psychic, surprises were few and far between, and sometimes Dusty liked to be surprised.
The car gradually slowed. Dusty knew the choppy puffs of wind paired with intermittent engine sounds meant they were passing buildings and being passed by cars. The tires rolled to a near stop, and he felt the bump of railroad tracks before Blue sped back up.
A familiar, welcome scent filled his nostrils, making his mouth water. “There’s the McDonald’s,” Dusty nodded in the direction of the smell.
“Okay, how the fuck did you know that?”
“I can smell the burgers. Can’t you?”
“Not from two blocks back, no,” Blue muttered. “And how do you know it’s not some other burger place?”
“They have their own unique aroma.” Dusty laughed and rubbed his stomach. “Mmm, McSmell.”
Blue laughed. The McSmell came and went, but Dusty’s hunger remained. He heard the rapid clicking of the turn signal, felt the car veer left. As he swung with it, the butterflies that had tickled his gut since leaving the city now hit full-force with mad flurry. His breath left him a moment, his head spun, and he knew, just as sure as his name was Dusty Sterling, that his life had veered in a new direction as well.
Ah, a surprise. Dusty smiled to himself, ready to embrace and explore whatever path had just opened before him.
***
Copyright 2009 by Katrina Strauss
Dark romance for daring readers
http://www.katrinastrauss.com
***
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!comment for a chance to be one of three lucky people win one of my backlist ebooks
Ready to move on? The next stop on the Erotic Romance Scavenger Hunt is… Angel Martinez!
Good luck!
March 25, 2012
Newsletter Subscribers!
March 22, 2012
Family Unit Is Back!
I have a funny story about writing the book Family Unit. Originally, I wanted to tell the story of mature men. I enjoy writing about teens, or college age students, I love describing firm six pack abs and the desperation of youth. But for once I wanted to give a shout out to mature singles, men who might be seen by the modern dating market as a little past their prime.
I talked to one of my best friends about it and we compared notes on the minute changes we'd noticed in our bodies — the ones we could chalk up to aging. My hair was greying, I needed reading glasses. When my friend (who is five years younger than I am) and I are in the yarn store, I have to hold a skein more than an arm's length away from her so she can read the dye lot. My skin is changing. I noticed I had pigmented and unpigmented spots on my hands. I don't consider myself old, or rather I do, but I don't think of myself as decrepit. I created the characters in this book and gave them all my age-related characteristics. I described those changes in what I thought was humorous detail and the number one response I got from readers was Wow! These guys are so OLD. It isn't something I feel like I should respond to or anything, but I don't see myself as all that old! The fact that I've had four kids may have fast-forwarded my aging clock a little, but anyway, this is a romance for the rest of us — those of us who aren't in the first blush of youth, because as I said in the dedication to my dear friend Mark C:
Let's just say I believe no heart is safe from Cupid's arrows as long as it's still beating.
Family Unit
A retired marine, Logan is methodical and conservative. Richard is a liberal pacifist who is pathologically afraid of guns. Yet the minute Logan sets eyes on Richard, his heart turns over like an old car engine and it isn't long before his motor is revved and Richard is in the driver's seat—even if it seems like each man is driving a different car.
Richard Hunter is parenting his grandson, and the kid— Nick—has had it rough. Richard vows nothing will stop him from creating a loving and stable home. Not even a tempting, red-hot relationship with a very attractive man. However, when Richard looks into Logan's blue eyes it's tough to stay focused. It's never easy to become a family, what with a temperamental eight-year-old, disapproving outsiders, and outright extortion attempts.
But when push comes to shove, both Logan and Richard are committed family men who want to make a loving home for a little boy who needs them. Together, they're planning to form a Family Unit, and they won't let anything stand in their way.
~*~
Family Unit is now out as a slightly revised e-book. You won't find it's very different from the original version, but I cleaned up some language and got a new cover from my pal Lex Valentine. I'm even going to release it for the first time in print as soon as possible, so stay tuned.
You can purchase it right now, at Amazon HERE.
March 1, 2012
Notes from the wreckage…
On A Personal Note…
Many of you probably heard we had a pretty significant house fire at the end of January. It's hard to conceive of how much something like that can change your life! If I used to take for granted that I had a nice home to live in, that my kids could walk to school and to visit with their friends, and that as long as I worked hard and kept things up very little would change, I am now thoroughly disabused of that notion.
We've been living in a residence hotel for about four weeks now, and have taken a lease on an apartment (small, but it will suit our needs) for about six months while they make repairs to our house. Between asbestos abatement, having to rebuild the garage entirely and de-smokifying the house itself, it's a huge project, as smoke apparently moves through the attic and walls and pours out like water from behind things like outlets, medicine cabinets, light and faucet fixtures, and it saturates everything with this toxic miasma that has to be got rid of before we can move back.
There is a staggering amount of work to be done. Thank heavens I'm not the one to be doing it! Thanks to everyone who expressed their best wishes, and all the kind notes I've received about this. My family is pretty adaptable so far, the kids treat these things like adventures and not crises, but I imagine our enforced captivity into a space half the size of our house might prove to be complicated over the long haul. Wish Us LUCK!
P.S. I'm registered for GayRomLit in Albuquerque! I hope to see you there!
On A writerly Note:
Lots of you noticed that two books are missing from my backlist, Family Unit, and The Long Way Home. The rights to those two books reverted back to me, so I'm re-editing (I have honed my skills since I wrote those, I hope, and I'll be giving them a critical once over) and commissioning new covers for them, and then I'll be re-releasing them sometime this spring. Stay tuned for those! To find blurbs, excerpts, and buy links to all my available books CLICK ON THE BOOK COVERS OR THE TITLES ON MY BOOKS PAGE.
In the meantime I'm working on three different projects (One of which I'm co-writing with the knockout talent of none other than Heidi Cullinan, so that should be something!)
A Picture Perfect Holiday, released by MLR Press in November, and Secret Light from publisher Loose Id in December, are my latest releases. Secret Light is the #3 Top Ebook at Fictionwise today, 3/1/2012, and they've both been getting some great reviews, including a Night Owl Reviews Top Pick, so thanks to everyone who helped in making this book a success.
Among other things, they said:
"Secret Light is, for me, about trying to fit in at a time when certain differences can not only be unhealthy, but deadly. It is also a story of finding your way to happiness, love and friendship.
A truly wonderful read."
I'm also expanding The Artist's Model and giving it a virtual facelift. It will be re-released by MLR press, who is also releasing a single print book containing my two novellas, Stirring Up Trouble and All Stirred Up. Look for something a little bit extra (and fun) there.
As always, thanks to you, my readers and friends. Your letters and comments keep me on my toes and working hard. Thanks for your support!
February 4, 2012
Life Imitates Art
Of course, when I wrote Secret Light, I used my imagination to explore the painful subject of fire. I imagined what it would be like, for example, to stand on the front lawn in my Sunday grubby clothes watching the firefighters put out the smoldering ruins of my garage, I imagined what would flash through my head in that moment. I would hold my dog tighter, knowing she was out and safe, but I'd worry about finding a leash for her. I would count my children's heads over and over. If someone was hurt, what would happen? And what would I do if it was my husband, and I was all alone to face that reality of the rubble of my house? Of being essentially homeless in the dark, having to keep my game face in place because I owe it to my tribe.
I would have flashes — were the Christmas stockings my mother had lovingly needlepointed for me in the garage yet? Had we gotten to putting those away after Christmas or had procrastination worked in our favor for once? (The answer is yes, they were in the garage and they're gone.) Was that my pink bike cruiser and it's lovely detachable willow wicker basket melting in the corner? Is that the Cartwheels wagon I'd used to trek my children up and down the beach when they were babies, the one we used to use to carry water when the girl scouts marched in the Heritage Day parade.
Sooner or later, you begin to realize all these questions have a common thread, one that stitches all the really valuable parts of your life together. You start to think, oh, no, that's the sewing machine I used to make my children's Harry Potter Pajamas and their Christmas Elf hats. That's our camping gear, remember when I went on my first trip as a cub scout den leader and wasn't that the "blind leading the blind?"
The common thread is that all of these things, whether they're irreplaceable objects of art or simply utilitarian items I could get at the nearest Wal-Mart, is that they only have value to me because of the irreplaceable beloved, fully alive and breathing humans whose heads I counted over and over like Rain Man as I watched my house burn.
Actually we were lucky, only the garage burned — it's a total loss — but the house was filled with toxic smoke and as a result has been provisionally red tagged, and there's some talk that it may take up to six months for us to be allowed back inside.
My husband was injured with second degree burns on his arms when he ran to take the car out of the garage so it wouldn't explode and possibly level the neighbor's house as well (as you know, we build 'em close together in California.) He's fine, returned to us that night, but it was devastating.
I was that woman, wondering what I was going to do, when neighbors of all walks of life, some I knew and some I didn't, came to help. The activities director of my children's middle school pressed hotel keys into my hand (he'd gone and actually rented two rooms on our behalf so we'd have some place to sleep.) I had no idea he lived right around the block. My neighbor two doors down kept all of us supplied with a steady stream of bottled water and packed up a paper bag with toiletries for us when we left. She gave me shoes because I was barefoot and jackets for my kids when night fell and it got cold.
People are really lovely. Friends from church showed up, both those charged with shepherding our family anyway, (home teachers and our church hierarchy — and this, even though I've made my hard feelings known in a pretty clear way about their involvement in the prop 8 debacle. I've actually informed them that I actively work against them in the area of LGBTQ equality.
One couple who are good friends came because they saw it on Facebook. (Someone FACEBOOKED our fire while it was still burning! Imagine that — our friends saw it and came to offer help.) Like drumbeat communications between distant tribes of indiginous peoples, Facebook is there.
But the most important thing I have to say, because we all really know we need to cherish each other — that's almost redundant because it's the theme of everything I write — is what I learned about fire.
Fire is HOT. Fire burns. Smoke kills. But there's something about people that makes them believe they can run and get that photo album, or that computer, or that car from the burning garage, because right now the flames aren't anywhere near what they're heading for and it doesn't look too bad.
IF you never listen to a word I've ever said, or IF you don't even read my books, don't like my work, don't like me, think I'm an enormous waste of time, but you're reading this because everyone enjoys a good trainwreck and fire is sexy, READ THIS:
Fire is HOT. Even if you see no flames licking at the object you think you need badly enough to make a run for it, the air is already superheating in the area in which your object most likely is enjoying its last, melting moments on earth.
The fire's been smoldering there, heating that environment, spewing toxic things into the atmosphere, for a while. You might believe — since you see no flames — you're safe to run in, grab whatever and get out.
IT. IS. NOT. SAFE.
Even if you are never touched by a flame the heat will melt your skin off. MELT IT, I reiterate, and the skin will peel off and dangle from an open wound and it will hurt like a motherfucker. Skin that seemed fine when you left that fire with your object will blister, fall off, scab, and get infected. The air you breathe will burn your lungs. The smoke you inhale will KILL you.
My husband's instinct to get his car out so it wouldn't explode resulted in very minor burns, thank heavens, yet they are still extremely painful, and we're not sure what damage it did to his ear, which they never even noticed in the hospital because the blistering happened later. His car was already hot enough that it took a deep, quarter-sized chunk of flesh right off the side of his right hand when he touched the door handle. He got second degree burns along his left arm. Since I had to back my car out so he could remove his, I was responsible for his life and what if I had been unable to keep my head and manage my own part of the process???
He got the car out, but it was a very near thing, our children were on the lawn screaming "Daddy" in a way that I will hear in my head until the day that I die. For a few heart-stopping moments, I believed we were all going to watch him die.
If you hear nothing else I've ever said, please hear this: nothing is worth your life, even if you believe something might explode, alert your neighbors so they too can evacuate, and let the firefighters do their work.
I love you all. I'm so grateful for my family's continued health and so blessed by the kindness of my neighbors.
~ZAM~
February 2, 2012
It's real funny till your house burns down.
For a cool pic of the fire itself, see my facebook. either Zam Maxfield or ZAMaxfield.
I'm trying to get back to everyone who has written, and I'm trying to answer questions when you have them.
For right now just let me say both Family Unit and The Long Way Home are undergoing a slight refurbish and will be rereleased this spring with different covers. The Artist's Model is back on it's way, but I want to expand it. Stirring Up Trouble and All Stirred Up are due to be released soon as one single print edition with a very slightly expanded epilogue, and I just released a fun little short story at Heidi and Marie's cupoporn.net website which is available to read for free...
Big hugs and kisses to everyone, my family and dog are all well and happy (despite the recent unfortunate circumstances) and we wish you the very best.
December 23, 2011
And The Winner Is…
Congratulations to the winner of my newsletter contest:
almondeyes1973
I'll be sending you an email to ask what format you would like your copy of Secret Light to be, and to get your address for that something I acquired in New Orleans.
Thank you again to everyone who participated in the event, to those of you who subscribed to my newsletter, and to those of you who have been buying and reading my books.
Warmest wishes for the happiest of holidays!
December 21, 2011
Holiday Reads And A Major Mea Culpa ~
I want to take this opportunity to wish everyone a very happy holiday season. Hanukkah has begun and Christmas is only days away. Kwanzaa begins on the 26th! Unbelievable! I won't even bother to say how fast the year went for me, I'm sure it went as fast or faster for everyone.
My Hanukkah themed holiday novella, Secret Light released yesterday, on the twentieth.
It's the story of Rafe Coleman, who has lost faith and isolated himself in a cocoon of fine things and success but longs for companionship and Ben Morgan, who sees how lonely he is and wants to do something about it.
I'm so happy with that story, but I need to issue a sincere apology. If you purchased it before around 3:00 A.M. on the 21st it contained what I considered to be a pretty glaring error. I think my heart stopped when I realize that I'd inadvertently typed the name Nick Chance (referring to Dashiell Hammett's famously hard-drinking detective) instead of Nick Charles.
I know Hammett and my über author girlcrush Lillian Hellman (and maybe even William Powell) are rolling around in their graves right now. I can't tell you how much I love the Nick and Nora Charles characters, and I can't believe I did that. Moreover, I can't believe someone didn't squash me like a bug for doing it before now, or that the whole of civilization as we know it didn't collapse. I have an awful feeling that sometimes people just trust me to know what I'm talking about. Which is probably not a good thing. Or like me, they just see what they believe should be there, and not what's actually on the page.
The most important lesson we can take away from this is I need new glasses at the very least, or a much younger brain.
BUT… All is not lost. Due to the magic of eBooks, anyone can have the corrected copy by downloading the file from Loose Id again, with my sincerest apologies.
Mea Culpa for my inexcusable lapse. Download it again, or buy it for the first time…HERE
December 16, 2011
Holiday Reads
*Newest Holiday Release #1*
A Picture Perfect Holiday by Z. A. Maxfield
Contemporary M/M Holiday
MLR Press
Buy HERE
~*~
*Upcoming Holiday Release #2*
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Secret Light by Z. A. Maxfield
Loose Id Publishing
Coming December 20th, 2011
Contemporary Historical M/M, Holiday
Buy HERE
~*~
*Other Holiday books to enjoy*
What Child is This? by Z. A. Maxfield
A Crossing Borders Story
Loose Id Publsihing
Contemporary M/M, Holiday
Buy HERE
~*~
I Heard Him Exclaim by Z. A. Maxfield
Part of the 'His For the Holidays' Anthology
Carina Press
Contemporary M/M, Holidays
Buy HERE
http://zamaxfield.com/
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October 27, 2011
Hear Ye, Hear Ye…
I'm creating a newsletter to consolidate my mailing lists and so I can use it to announce contests, new releases and public appearances. I do solemnly swear that I won't fill your inboxes with nonsense. Just all the news that's fit to print. Here's that little thingie, for mobile apps, if only because the juxtaposition of antiquated and cutting edge elements in this announcement amuses me:
ZAM's new mailing list
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