Chloe Stowe's Blog: The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe, page 18
February 14, 2012
Day One of "The Stripped Asset Blogs" - A Previewing Event in Fast Forward
Day One has been thrust upon us with nary a warning, like a blizzard that jumps out from behind the innocent looking mountains yelling “Surprise!” in Icelandic tongues. Well, grab your parkas and your mittens, folks. This is going to be one heck of a super slalom-esque previewing ride!
Ready?
Here we go!
Stripped Asset is my 10th published novel, and honestly it is one of my very favorites. The characters of Heath and Lachlan just wrote themselves, weaving a simple romantic tale into a dynamic, hopefully unforgettable read. Here’s why (in lovely synopsis/sell copy form)…
Love is rarely played more beautifully than to the heartfelt strings of sacrifice…
Thirty-two year old Lachlan Hayes is a successful Hollywood screenwriter who’s just bought a beautiful but neglected house on the sea. Words are his life; imagination his playground. But he’s never known love as more than a meeting of hungry bodies in the night.
Heath Isles is a twenty-seven year old landscape architect whose every moment is spent fighting for custody of his little brother. The work that pays for this legal battle is Heath’s life, giving his brother the future he deserves is his calling. But Heath’s never known true love as more than a common prelude to a common divorce.
When Lachlan hires Heath to renovate his beachfront property, a passion fierce and playful is alighted and a romance true and embattled is born.
Theirs is a story of irony, a story of when surrendering to the odds is love’s only hope of survival.
Theirs is a tale of a sacrifice made and kept.
Theirs is a song of hope and happy endings.
Excuse me while I bounce around in utter excitement. Please feel free to join in. The more bouncers the merrier, I always say. *grins*
Tomorrow, I will give you all the chapter titles and their excerpts in one grand rush of previewing goodiness. (I, too, am having to hurriedly throw on the gloves and big furry boots. The blizzard is unexpectedly barreling down on me as well… Ahh, the publishing world!)
As for all my faithful blog readers who have been following the escapades of my teetering mental health, an update awaits you tomorrow as well. I’d add more today but a good portion of my working brain matter leaked out of my head this morning as Tuesdays and I rarely get along. Don’t ask. I don’t have a heck of a clue as to why. You know, somebody could write a darn fine doctorate thesis on the mysterious mis-workings of my mind. Anything for science after all, right?
Well, I will leave you here for today. I hope everyone is well kitted out in their winter wear as the eye of the previewing blizzard hits tomorrow!
Until then…
Chloe Stowe and her enigmatic brain
Ready?
Here we go!
Stripped Asset is my 10th published novel, and honestly it is one of my very favorites. The characters of Heath and Lachlan just wrote themselves, weaving a simple romantic tale into a dynamic, hopefully unforgettable read. Here’s why (in lovely synopsis/sell copy form)…
Love is rarely played more beautifully than to the heartfelt strings of sacrifice…
Thirty-two year old Lachlan Hayes is a successful Hollywood screenwriter who’s just bought a beautiful but neglected house on the sea. Words are his life; imagination his playground. But he’s never known love as more than a meeting of hungry bodies in the night.
Heath Isles is a twenty-seven year old landscape architect whose every moment is spent fighting for custody of his little brother. The work that pays for this legal battle is Heath’s life, giving his brother the future he deserves is his calling. But Heath’s never known true love as more than a common prelude to a common divorce.
When Lachlan hires Heath to renovate his beachfront property, a passion fierce and playful is alighted and a romance true and embattled is born.
Theirs is a story of irony, a story of when surrendering to the odds is love’s only hope of survival.
Theirs is a tale of a sacrifice made and kept.
Theirs is a song of hope and happy endings.
Excuse me while I bounce around in utter excitement. Please feel free to join in. The more bouncers the merrier, I always say. *grins*
Tomorrow, I will give you all the chapter titles and their excerpts in one grand rush of previewing goodiness. (I, too, am having to hurriedly throw on the gloves and big furry boots. The blizzard is unexpectedly barreling down on me as well… Ahh, the publishing world!)
As for all my faithful blog readers who have been following the escapades of my teetering mental health, an update awaits you tomorrow as well. I’d add more today but a good portion of my working brain matter leaked out of my head this morning as Tuesdays and I rarely get along. Don’t ask. I don’t have a heck of a clue as to why. You know, somebody could write a darn fine doctorate thesis on the mysterious mis-workings of my mind. Anything for science after all, right?
Well, I will leave you here for today. I hope everyone is well kitted out in their winter wear as the eye of the previewing blizzard hits tomorrow!
Until then…
Chloe Stowe and her enigmatic brain
February 8, 2012
"Surprise! Chloe Does Valentine's!"
Surprise!
Chloe Stowe has a Valentine’s Day novella!
Shirtless, sculpted and oiled male medics are on standby at each exit for any of your respiratory concerns.
“Hard Candy, Soft Cream” will be released tomorrow at Ravenous Romance just in time to get all your juices simmering and steaming for the big day next week. So, today, my friends, you get a loaded, double decker of a preview for my first ever Valentine’s story.
*excuse me while I put on my sideshow barker hat…*
You will get today not only a titillating, tantalizing synopsis of 20K words of pure romantic bliss, you will also receive 5, yes, count them ladies and gents, 5 chapter titles!
Wow!
And, don’t catch your breath just yet folks, you are also going to get an extended excerpt and… *cue the guy with the drums*… a cover!
Whoa. I think I’ll be needing one of those virile medics myself.
So, without further adieu, let’s get this party started!
First up, the synopsis…
Join Mercer and Saul from the novel Hard Wood, Soft Heart in a standalone Valentine’s Day novella that will bring heat, tears and laughter to your cold winter days.
Mercer Braun is a former baseball player whose career was stolen from him by a chronic heart condition.
Saul Tidewater is a heart surgeon who moved to Las Vegas to escape a bitter divorce and the tragedy at the break-up’s core.
They’ve only known each other for nine months, but their love pulses strong and their passion burns magnificently.
But when a secret is kept on Valentine’s Day not only is the strength of their relationship put to the test, but their very lives are put at risk.
This is a story of how timeless love can rise up out of the ashes of tragedy.
This is the story of how eternal love is born and kept.
And, no, you will not have to run back and read your copy of Hard Wood, Soft Heart. This is truly a standalone story with just a couple of my favorite guys coming along for the ride.
Let me warn you though: this story is a genuine, no nonsense heart tugger. It’s going to pull some strings that may not have been strung in years.
Ok, up next are the 5 chapter titles! You’re giggling with excitement, aren’t you? I know I’m giggling but I think mine’s basically on my psych meds kicking in.
Chapter One: Under Neptune’s Gaze
Chapter Two: Pennies in the Fountain
Chapter Three: Two Boys in the Sandbox
Chapter Four: Flowers at Your Feet
Chapter Five: Playing in the Twilight
I love to tease and entice with my chapter titles. Hopefully these five have done just that.
And if that isn’t enough to tickle your Valentine’s fancy, here is a nice, long excerpt from Chapter One to stroke you in all the best ways…
“Do you ever get a bad feeling about a day?” Saul Tidewater turned his head on his pillow and asked his lover seriously.
Both men lay naked under the covers of Saul’s bed, their legs intertwined, their hands softly roaming each other’s body. They had made love softly, easing each other’s orgasms out, coaxing the come from their cocks with long wet kisses and carnal nothings whispered into the skin. They had come only moments apart, their bodies more in sync with one another than either man dared to acknowledge.
Now, as the clock in the living room struck midnight, they were both drifting in the warm haze of afterglow. Sleep lingered in the corners of their consciousness, waiting patiently for the talk to run down and for the men to surrender to the sandman’s touch.
Thirty-two year old Mercer Braun yawned into Saul’s shoulder, his head nestled deeply on the doctor’s arm. With his short, sun-kissed blond hair ruffled and askew, Mercer lay curled up on his side, the length of his 6’2” frame plastered possessively to his lover. The stubble on his chin made delicious scratch-scritch noises against Saul’s skin as Mercer nuzzled himself deeper into his arms.
The men had only known each other for nine months; the last six they had known each other exclusively. Mercer having never been in a serious relationship for such a length of time, and still fought pinching himself every morning in which he woke up to the all-encompassing love that was Dr. Saul Tidewater.
It had been less than three years since Mercer, a major league first baseman for the Pittsburgh Pirates, had learned that he had a chronic heart condition called an aortic valve stenosis. While surgery was able to repair his heart, the ailment had stripped him of his career.
Fortunately, he had always handled his money wisely. When retirement was forced upon the twenty-nine year old, he had by that time established a substantial nest egg for himself, one that would require him to work only part of the year.
Moving to Las Vegas to take advantage of the weather and the city’s proximity to the spring training leagues in Arizona, Mercer had opened a hitting clinic for professional baseball players which he ran out of his house in the winter months of baseball’s off season. The venture had been a roaring success. The rest of the year he volunteered with kids, coaching their little league teams and mentoring them both on and off the field.
Mercer Braun’s life was still good, but it was different. The heart condition had to be monitored regularly. While he had received a replacement valve, it was scientific fact that the valve would eventually wear out. Of course, another valve would then be inserted, but each surgery, each replacement got riskier as its odd for success got smaller. Mercer had learned to live with the realities of his future. His lover, a cardio thoracic surgeon, however, had not.
Saul Tidewater always remembered Mercer’s limitations. He always made sure that Mercer didn’t push himself physically too far, made sure that the former ballplayer was never far beyond a doctor’s reach. Honestly, it was sometimes annoying as hell, and Saul’s well-meaning but firm limitations he’d set had forced Mercer to give up some of the activities in life he had cherished the most. The almost daily dawn to dusk hikes in the desert that had filled Mercer’s empty summer hours were now a thing of the past. Sometimes, Mercer missed those days terribly.
He, however, bent to Saul’s wishes out of an ever growing love and inextinguishable passion for the heart surgeon. Mercer’s condition scared Saul and rightfully so. While Mercer lived his life from day to day, soaking in as much life as God allowed him, Saul often lived for the future. Their future. It was a difficult balancing act both men had to play in their relationship. It was fragile and both feared it could so easily be broken.
“No,” Mercer answered Saul’s question with a sleep-beckoning sigh. Every day was a blessing in Mercer’s book, so no day could possibly be tagged as bad. He knew he wouldn’t win that argument though, so he shelved that discussion in hopes of a sex-drowsed nap. “Why? Do you?” he asked as he nuzzled his nose into Saul’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Saul replied half distracted by something Mercer was too tired to name.
“Bad feeling about today?” Mercer raised his head up off of his shoulder just enough to meet Saul’s gaze with his own. Saul had the most spectacular deep hazel eyes, with his rich black hair they sparkled devilishly in his face. Mercer could literally stare at Saul all day and never tire of a detail. Unfortunately, sleep was a necessity no man could completely ignore. Another yawn caught Mercer off guard then, but he refused to relinquish the connection until an answer to his question was given.
Saul shrugged his free shoulder and forced a small smile that was no doubt for Mercer’s benefit alone. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m just tired.”
“You sure?” Mercer asked, planning to go back to this subject once his brain was more awake than asleep.
“Yeah.” Saul craned his neck down to give his lover a kiss on the crown of his head. “Go to sleep.”
Mercer needed more than a nice peck on the noggin though, so he took it. Maneuvering himself farther up Saul’s long, lean body, Mercer sloppily devoured the doctor’s lips with his own.
A sleepy-eyed Saul gave as good as he got.
The kisses were messy and loud and lacked all grace, but they were still perfect.
Mercer sighed as he finally let Saul’s mouth free. “That’s better.”
Saul smiled as he combed his fingers lovingly through Mercer’s hair. “You’re right. It is.”
Heavily, Mercer dropped his chin to the doctor’s chest. He looked blearily up at his lover and asked rather dopily, “Can I go to sleep now?”
Running a hand reverently down the side of Mercer’s face, Saul said softly, “Dream away.”
Mercer grinned, turned his head to the side and down just a bit so that the sound of Saul’s heartbeat was all he could hear, and mumbled in one last final breath of awareness, “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Finally, may I present to you my cover…
http://thewordsandmadnessofchloestowe...
Wow, right?
Ok, I think I’ve just sprained my self-promotion muscle… Oh, Mr. Medic!
Seriously though, thank you all for taking the time to stop by again. It’s been a while and I’ve missed you probably more than I should. I’ll be back in the next week or so with my usual strung-out foreplay to promote my next novel Stripped Asset. It’s at the publisher’s right now so it won’t be long until you hear from me and my madness again.
I hoped you enjoyed and I hope you will consider adding “Hard Candy, Soft Cream” to your library tomorrow.
Spread the word everyone… I’m hoarse and I need a drink. *grins*
Until next time…
Chloe Stowe
Chloe Stowe has a Valentine’s Day novella!
Shirtless, sculpted and oiled male medics are on standby at each exit for any of your respiratory concerns.
“Hard Candy, Soft Cream” will be released tomorrow at Ravenous Romance just in time to get all your juices simmering and steaming for the big day next week. So, today, my friends, you get a loaded, double decker of a preview for my first ever Valentine’s story.
*excuse me while I put on my sideshow barker hat…*
You will get today not only a titillating, tantalizing synopsis of 20K words of pure romantic bliss, you will also receive 5, yes, count them ladies and gents, 5 chapter titles!
Wow!
And, don’t catch your breath just yet folks, you are also going to get an extended excerpt and… *cue the guy with the drums*… a cover!
Whoa. I think I’ll be needing one of those virile medics myself.
So, without further adieu, let’s get this party started!
First up, the synopsis…
Join Mercer and Saul from the novel Hard Wood, Soft Heart in a standalone Valentine’s Day novella that will bring heat, tears and laughter to your cold winter days.
Mercer Braun is a former baseball player whose career was stolen from him by a chronic heart condition.
Saul Tidewater is a heart surgeon who moved to Las Vegas to escape a bitter divorce and the tragedy at the break-up’s core.
They’ve only known each other for nine months, but their love pulses strong and their passion burns magnificently.
But when a secret is kept on Valentine’s Day not only is the strength of their relationship put to the test, but their very lives are put at risk.
This is a story of how timeless love can rise up out of the ashes of tragedy.
This is the story of how eternal love is born and kept.
And, no, you will not have to run back and read your copy of Hard Wood, Soft Heart. This is truly a standalone story with just a couple of my favorite guys coming along for the ride.
Let me warn you though: this story is a genuine, no nonsense heart tugger. It’s going to pull some strings that may not have been strung in years.
Ok, up next are the 5 chapter titles! You’re giggling with excitement, aren’t you? I know I’m giggling but I think mine’s basically on my psych meds kicking in.
Chapter One: Under Neptune’s Gaze
Chapter Two: Pennies in the Fountain
Chapter Three: Two Boys in the Sandbox
Chapter Four: Flowers at Your Feet
Chapter Five: Playing in the Twilight
I love to tease and entice with my chapter titles. Hopefully these five have done just that.
And if that isn’t enough to tickle your Valentine’s fancy, here is a nice, long excerpt from Chapter One to stroke you in all the best ways…
“Do you ever get a bad feeling about a day?” Saul Tidewater turned his head on his pillow and asked his lover seriously.
Both men lay naked under the covers of Saul’s bed, their legs intertwined, their hands softly roaming each other’s body. They had made love softly, easing each other’s orgasms out, coaxing the come from their cocks with long wet kisses and carnal nothings whispered into the skin. They had come only moments apart, their bodies more in sync with one another than either man dared to acknowledge.
Now, as the clock in the living room struck midnight, they were both drifting in the warm haze of afterglow. Sleep lingered in the corners of their consciousness, waiting patiently for the talk to run down and for the men to surrender to the sandman’s touch.
Thirty-two year old Mercer Braun yawned into Saul’s shoulder, his head nestled deeply on the doctor’s arm. With his short, sun-kissed blond hair ruffled and askew, Mercer lay curled up on his side, the length of his 6’2” frame plastered possessively to his lover. The stubble on his chin made delicious scratch-scritch noises against Saul’s skin as Mercer nuzzled himself deeper into his arms.
The men had only known each other for nine months; the last six they had known each other exclusively. Mercer having never been in a serious relationship for such a length of time, and still fought pinching himself every morning in which he woke up to the all-encompassing love that was Dr. Saul Tidewater.
It had been less than three years since Mercer, a major league first baseman for the Pittsburgh Pirates, had learned that he had a chronic heart condition called an aortic valve stenosis. While surgery was able to repair his heart, the ailment had stripped him of his career.
Fortunately, he had always handled his money wisely. When retirement was forced upon the twenty-nine year old, he had by that time established a substantial nest egg for himself, one that would require him to work only part of the year.
Moving to Las Vegas to take advantage of the weather and the city’s proximity to the spring training leagues in Arizona, Mercer had opened a hitting clinic for professional baseball players which he ran out of his house in the winter months of baseball’s off season. The venture had been a roaring success. The rest of the year he volunteered with kids, coaching their little league teams and mentoring them both on and off the field.
Mercer Braun’s life was still good, but it was different. The heart condition had to be monitored regularly. While he had received a replacement valve, it was scientific fact that the valve would eventually wear out. Of course, another valve would then be inserted, but each surgery, each replacement got riskier as its odd for success got smaller. Mercer had learned to live with the realities of his future. His lover, a cardio thoracic surgeon, however, had not.
Saul Tidewater always remembered Mercer’s limitations. He always made sure that Mercer didn’t push himself physically too far, made sure that the former ballplayer was never far beyond a doctor’s reach. Honestly, it was sometimes annoying as hell, and Saul’s well-meaning but firm limitations he’d set had forced Mercer to give up some of the activities in life he had cherished the most. The almost daily dawn to dusk hikes in the desert that had filled Mercer’s empty summer hours were now a thing of the past. Sometimes, Mercer missed those days terribly.
He, however, bent to Saul’s wishes out of an ever growing love and inextinguishable passion for the heart surgeon. Mercer’s condition scared Saul and rightfully so. While Mercer lived his life from day to day, soaking in as much life as God allowed him, Saul often lived for the future. Their future. It was a difficult balancing act both men had to play in their relationship. It was fragile and both feared it could so easily be broken.
“No,” Mercer answered Saul’s question with a sleep-beckoning sigh. Every day was a blessing in Mercer’s book, so no day could possibly be tagged as bad. He knew he wouldn’t win that argument though, so he shelved that discussion in hopes of a sex-drowsed nap. “Why? Do you?” he asked as he nuzzled his nose into Saul’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Saul replied half distracted by something Mercer was too tired to name.
“Bad feeling about today?” Mercer raised his head up off of his shoulder just enough to meet Saul’s gaze with his own. Saul had the most spectacular deep hazel eyes, with his rich black hair they sparkled devilishly in his face. Mercer could literally stare at Saul all day and never tire of a detail. Unfortunately, sleep was a necessity no man could completely ignore. Another yawn caught Mercer off guard then, but he refused to relinquish the connection until an answer to his question was given.
Saul shrugged his free shoulder and forced a small smile that was no doubt for Mercer’s benefit alone. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m just tired.”
“You sure?” Mercer asked, planning to go back to this subject once his brain was more awake than asleep.
“Yeah.” Saul craned his neck down to give his lover a kiss on the crown of his head. “Go to sleep.”
Mercer needed more than a nice peck on the noggin though, so he took it. Maneuvering himself farther up Saul’s long, lean body, Mercer sloppily devoured the doctor’s lips with his own.
A sleepy-eyed Saul gave as good as he got.
The kisses were messy and loud and lacked all grace, but they were still perfect.
Mercer sighed as he finally let Saul’s mouth free. “That’s better.”
Saul smiled as he combed his fingers lovingly through Mercer’s hair. “You’re right. It is.”
Heavily, Mercer dropped his chin to the doctor’s chest. He looked blearily up at his lover and asked rather dopily, “Can I go to sleep now?”
Running a hand reverently down the side of Mercer’s face, Saul said softly, “Dream away.”
Mercer grinned, turned his head to the side and down just a bit so that the sound of Saul’s heartbeat was all he could hear, and mumbled in one last final breath of awareness, “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Finally, may I present to you my cover…
http://thewordsandmadnessofchloestowe...
Wow, right?
Ok, I think I’ve just sprained my self-promotion muscle… Oh, Mr. Medic!
Seriously though, thank you all for taking the time to stop by again. It’s been a while and I’ve missed you probably more than I should. I’ll be back in the next week or so with my usual strung-out foreplay to promote my next novel Stripped Asset. It’s at the publisher’s right now so it won’t be long until you hear from me and my madness again.
I hoped you enjoyed and I hope you will consider adding “Hard Candy, Soft Cream” to your library tomorrow.
Spread the word everyone… I’m hoarse and I need a drink. *grins*
Until next time…
Chloe Stowe
January 3, 2012
"Elephants in My Corner" - The Last Day of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
It’s Release Day! And Hellesgate, Kansas is jumping. It’s rocking. Heck, Hellesgate would be filling up the sky with bottle rockets if the place didn’t have a long, sundry history with any word with “fire” in it.
Me? I’m sick to my stomach, have heart palpitations galore and keep getting lost in delusions of colossal failure. The pink elephant in the corner that keeps smiling at me I’m pretty sure isn’t supposed to be there and the voices in my head are spitting and calling each other ninnies. Yep, it’s release day and if I can’t be sedated through this, I’m more than happy to share some of its madness with you.
Just to be clear, before any frantic phone calls to the mental health officials are made, the pink elephant and the ninnying voices are only colorful exaggerations of the muted chaos currently tripping through my mind.
My nerves have never been ho-hum or hum-drum. There has always been a bright and blinding array of moods and colors to my anxiety. For instance, today is a fervent, jumpy kind of nervousness. My mind is pinging around my skull like some kind of freaking pinball desperate to find all the bumpers, be they one blaring success or “You f***ing suck!”
This kind of nervousness is easier to handle than most. It’s by no means pleasant but it is doable with the proper medication and the proper walls to bang my messed up head against. Also aiding in today’s mental health color scheme is the fact that I just signed the contract for the next two novels in the Hellesgate Series. Knowing that Matthew and Cane have enough interest backing them up to sustain books 4 and 5 is a huge appeasement to my pink elephant… you know, the one not sitting in my corner.
Before I start freaking out my readers and see the pity vote reflected in my book sales numbers, why don’t I leave you all to your own lives? One last request before I release you: please, help me spread the word about today’s release. Tweet, facebook, whisper “Shafts of Torchlight, Shafts of Torchlight” incessantly to your cubicle mate. Any help would be greatly appreciated on that front. Thanks.
I’m off to put the meat on the bones of my tenth novel for Ravenous: Stripped Asset. It should be released in early February so I will see you again real soon with more previews and more ugly truths. Thank you again for reading my words both here in my blog and in my novels. Never doubt for a moment that you guys feed my sanity. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Until next time…
Chloe Stowe
http://www.ravenousromance.com/m/m/sh...
Me? I’m sick to my stomach, have heart palpitations galore and keep getting lost in delusions of colossal failure. The pink elephant in the corner that keeps smiling at me I’m pretty sure isn’t supposed to be there and the voices in my head are spitting and calling each other ninnies. Yep, it’s release day and if I can’t be sedated through this, I’m more than happy to share some of its madness with you.
Just to be clear, before any frantic phone calls to the mental health officials are made, the pink elephant and the ninnying voices are only colorful exaggerations of the muted chaos currently tripping through my mind.
My nerves have never been ho-hum or hum-drum. There has always been a bright and blinding array of moods and colors to my anxiety. For instance, today is a fervent, jumpy kind of nervousness. My mind is pinging around my skull like some kind of freaking pinball desperate to find all the bumpers, be they one blaring success or “You f***ing suck!”
This kind of nervousness is easier to handle than most. It’s by no means pleasant but it is doable with the proper medication and the proper walls to bang my messed up head against. Also aiding in today’s mental health color scheme is the fact that I just signed the contract for the next two novels in the Hellesgate Series. Knowing that Matthew and Cane have enough interest backing them up to sustain books 4 and 5 is a huge appeasement to my pink elephant… you know, the one not sitting in my corner.
Before I start freaking out my readers and see the pity vote reflected in my book sales numbers, why don’t I leave you all to your own lives? One last request before I release you: please, help me spread the word about today’s release. Tweet, facebook, whisper “Shafts of Torchlight, Shafts of Torchlight” incessantly to your cubicle mate. Any help would be greatly appreciated on that front. Thanks.
I’m off to put the meat on the bones of my tenth novel for Ravenous: Stripped Asset. It should be released in early February so I will see you again real soon with more previews and more ugly truths. Thank you again for reading my words both here in my blog and in my novels. Never doubt for a moment that you guys feed my sanity. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Until next time…
Chloe Stowe
http://www.ravenousromance.com/m/m/sh...
January 2, 2012
"Rats Teeth on String" - Day Fifteen of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
Tomorrow is the big day! Can you feel the excitement building? Is your heart warming up to a skip? Is the tension in your loins growing?... Now, anybody who thinks I’m referring to the Iowa Caucuses here needs a lot more mental assistance than I do. *smirks*
Shafts of Torchlight releases tomorrow and this much ballyhooed (by me, at least) blogging event will come to an end. Laughter and tears would be appropriate here. I’ll leave it to you which emotion to attach to which event. Any celebratory confetti at the ending of this blog I will bravely ignore and will go merrily on my delusional way.
So before giddiness erupts tomorrow, I figure we’ve got time for one more peek into my skewed mind and its accompanying screwed up life.
Disconnect.
It’s a word that describes a lot of what happens when mental illness worms its way into your life. It eats its way through the strings that connect you to friends, until they become frayed, tattered and finally broken. You’re left feeling isolated, completely cut off from the life you once had. Some of these relationships, the strongest ones, can be salvaged. New strings can be formed, better ones that will weather any storm of nature or mind.
Other relationships are lost. It’s a slow, damning process that leaves an aching spot in your heart. A disconnect happens. Their lives go on, more or less, as planned. Weddings are had. Children are born. Career goals are met and exceeded… while your life stutters to a belly crawl. Yes, you still have goals and dreams but they are no longer the ones you shared with those friends. Your goals and dreams become inconceivable to them, while theirs become literally unattainable to you.
Disconnect: An irreparable shift in the foundations that the friendship was built upon. It’s a sad, painful ending to something that had one time been beautiful and strong.
Rat’s teeth on string… It’s mental illness in all its jaundiced glory.
Ok, enough of my fussing and definitely enough of the vermin. Today I choose to celebrate the accomplishment of my new goals and my new dreams. My ninth novel will be published tomorrow. I am so proud of that that I’m actually bursting at the seams. And while I can’t share that with certain lost friends, I can share it with you. I thank you for that.
Now, for the promised reveal of Book #5 of the Hellesgate Series which should be released in early September, 2012…
A Torch Kept by Chloe Stowe
There’s a lot of action, angst and some severe romance awaiting Matthew and Cane in this series. I sincerely hope you will follow along with their continuing story tomorrow. It’s going to be a bumpy but glorious ride, folks, but what else would you expect with Chloe Stowe at the wheel?
Until tomorrow, when this current blogging adventure rolls to its conclusion…
Chloe Stowe
Shafts of Torchlight releases tomorrow and this much ballyhooed (by me, at least) blogging event will come to an end. Laughter and tears would be appropriate here. I’ll leave it to you which emotion to attach to which event. Any celebratory confetti at the ending of this blog I will bravely ignore and will go merrily on my delusional way.
So before giddiness erupts tomorrow, I figure we’ve got time for one more peek into my skewed mind and its accompanying screwed up life.
Disconnect.
It’s a word that describes a lot of what happens when mental illness worms its way into your life. It eats its way through the strings that connect you to friends, until they become frayed, tattered and finally broken. You’re left feeling isolated, completely cut off from the life you once had. Some of these relationships, the strongest ones, can be salvaged. New strings can be formed, better ones that will weather any storm of nature or mind.
Other relationships are lost. It’s a slow, damning process that leaves an aching spot in your heart. A disconnect happens. Their lives go on, more or less, as planned. Weddings are had. Children are born. Career goals are met and exceeded… while your life stutters to a belly crawl. Yes, you still have goals and dreams but they are no longer the ones you shared with those friends. Your goals and dreams become inconceivable to them, while theirs become literally unattainable to you.
Disconnect: An irreparable shift in the foundations that the friendship was built upon. It’s a sad, painful ending to something that had one time been beautiful and strong.
Rat’s teeth on string… It’s mental illness in all its jaundiced glory.
Ok, enough of my fussing and definitely enough of the vermin. Today I choose to celebrate the accomplishment of my new goals and my new dreams. My ninth novel will be published tomorrow. I am so proud of that that I’m actually bursting at the seams. And while I can’t share that with certain lost friends, I can share it with you. I thank you for that.
Now, for the promised reveal of Book #5 of the Hellesgate Series which should be released in early September, 2012…
A Torch Kept by Chloe Stowe
There’s a lot of action, angst and some severe romance awaiting Matthew and Cane in this series. I sincerely hope you will follow along with their continuing story tomorrow. It’s going to be a bumpy but glorious ride, folks, but what else would you expect with Chloe Stowe at the wheel?
Until tomorrow, when this current blogging adventure rolls to its conclusion…
Chloe Stowe
January 1, 2012
"Resolutions? Bah Humbug" - Day 14 of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
“Fourteen?” You may be mouthing in horror. If you’re wondering what the heck you got yourself into when you started a preview blogging event with Chloe Stowe, just know I’m wondering the same thing. Yes, we’re well into delving into the teenage years of this fest and things might start getting a little dicey from here on out. Just fair warning, folks.
A good example is today’s post. While posted in the brand spanking new year of 2012, it was written square on the coattails of dusty old 2011. If I’ve somehow managed to stumble out of bed and got my morning fingers to work well enough to actually post this before orange juice and meds, you are in fact reading “old” Chloe, last year’s version. Already feeling nostalgic, huh? *grins*
Here, of course, would be the perfect place to do New Year’s Resolutions.
I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions.
While the whole reading world sighs in disappointment, let me explain to those who haven’t just abandoned me forever.
I do “resolutions” every day. I think most of us do.
I resolve every morning to actually dare to get out from under the safe covers and step bare feet into a world that has the potential of terrifying me to the core every half second or two.
I resolve every day to feed myself, even though the thoughts of putting food into my system and risking making myself violently ill has banished my appetite into the oblivion twenty odd years ago.
I resolve not to hate myself just because I can’t support myself fully independently with a 9-5 job that would put to use all those years of private school and college my parents shelled out their hard-earned money for. I resolve not to hate myself for being a burden, both financially and emotionally to my family (that’s the hardest one, people).
I resolve to seek out the sun and play in its warmth for as long as God and the beast of panic will allow. I resolve to stay out dancing in the sun way past those very same voices calling me back in.
I resolve to share my madness, be it utter or silly, with those willing to listen, willing to read, willing to care. I resolve to try every day to assure someone like me that they are not alone.
See? By twilight I’m as sick and tired of resolutions as you are of mine right now. *grins*
Now, since we are officially out of chapters of Shafts of Torchlight to preview before Tuesday’s big release day, as promised, I am thrilled to announce to the world the title of Book #4 of the Hellesgate Series, which should be released in early May…
The Torch Forsaken by Chloe Stowe
I hope everyone is duly “Wow!”-ing. I sort of am because I really do love this title and the title to Book #5 which will be revealed tomorrow. Please, let me know what you think!
As there are sure to be hangovers needing to be nursed or Christmas trees that sadly must be taken down, I will let you my dear readers get back to your New Year’s.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
A good example is today’s post. While posted in the brand spanking new year of 2012, it was written square on the coattails of dusty old 2011. If I’ve somehow managed to stumble out of bed and got my morning fingers to work well enough to actually post this before orange juice and meds, you are in fact reading “old” Chloe, last year’s version. Already feeling nostalgic, huh? *grins*
Here, of course, would be the perfect place to do New Year’s Resolutions.
I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions.
While the whole reading world sighs in disappointment, let me explain to those who haven’t just abandoned me forever.
I do “resolutions” every day. I think most of us do.
I resolve every morning to actually dare to get out from under the safe covers and step bare feet into a world that has the potential of terrifying me to the core every half second or two.
I resolve every day to feed myself, even though the thoughts of putting food into my system and risking making myself violently ill has banished my appetite into the oblivion twenty odd years ago.
I resolve not to hate myself just because I can’t support myself fully independently with a 9-5 job that would put to use all those years of private school and college my parents shelled out their hard-earned money for. I resolve not to hate myself for being a burden, both financially and emotionally to my family (that’s the hardest one, people).
I resolve to seek out the sun and play in its warmth for as long as God and the beast of panic will allow. I resolve to stay out dancing in the sun way past those very same voices calling me back in.
I resolve to share my madness, be it utter or silly, with those willing to listen, willing to read, willing to care. I resolve to try every day to assure someone like me that they are not alone.
See? By twilight I’m as sick and tired of resolutions as you are of mine right now. *grins*
Now, since we are officially out of chapters of Shafts of Torchlight to preview before Tuesday’s big release day, as promised, I am thrilled to announce to the world the title of Book #4 of the Hellesgate Series, which should be released in early May…
The Torch Forsaken by Chloe Stowe
I hope everyone is duly “Wow!”-ing. I sort of am because I really do love this title and the title to Book #5 which will be revealed tomorrow. Please, let me know what you think!
As there are sure to be hangovers needing to be nursed or Christmas trees that sadly must be taken down, I will let you my dear readers get back to your New Year’s.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
December 31, 2011
"Fifthly: A New Frontier" - Day 13 of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
First off, on this last day of 2011, I just want to say “Wow!” Yes, it lacks originality and flair but it does express how awed I am by the response to yesterday’s blog… and cover, let’s not forget that sizzling cover. *grins naughtily*
Secondly, I vow to you NOT to participate in the “year in review” nonsense every news station parades out this time of the year. I hate that. We lived it, folks. And the bad stuff, well, I for one don’t want to re-live it again for jollies; and the good stuff I already carry with me 24/7. So humongous waste of time in my estimation. Go find some real news and get back to me then… Ok, rant is now officially over. We can now all return to romantic smut and chronic mental illness. Yes, I do know how to party on New Year’s Eve.
Thirdly, it is my sad duty to report that today is the last of the chapter sneak peeks for Shafts of Torchlight. We have indeed reached the last chapter. It is a sad day in Hellesgate.
Fourthly, if that’s actually a word and my spellcheck says that it is, I would like to announce that on Sunday and Monday I will reveal to you the titles to Books #4 and #5 of the Hellesgate Series. Try to restrain yourself from somersaulting in pure unadulterated excitement. We don’t need any ER visits on the night that big glowy ball drops. *smiles*
In lieu of a fifthly (which really kind of weirds me out), I give you your last chapter sneak peek of Shafts of Torchlight…
Chapter Twelve: By Choice
“Did you ever ask?” Cane snapped before Matthew had the chance.
“No. There was no need. It was already done.” (page 149)
So, does everybody have a clear picture as to what’s going to happen with Matthew and Cane in their newest adventure? I doubt it. The ending surprised even me.
To update all curious blog-readers, my search for novel titles is slowly leading me into the realms of insanity. Quick trip, let me tell you. Sometimes I’d just like to take my brain out of my head and give it a good shaking. But screaming “What the freaking f**k?” to myself and my mischievous gray matter really doesn’t accomplish a thing. I know. I tried. My doctor upped my meds after that one.
The new website is getting closer to making its debut. I think I’ve actually got a couple of pages up at chloestowe.com but heck if I know. I’ll keep you updated.
Tomorrow’s blog will be either really early or really late. I’m hoping for early but the Fates are already whispering in my ear, “Oh, girl, it’s going to be so late.” I apologize in advance. Fear not, however, I will announce its posting to every corner of the internet like I always do. Yes, I get off on heralding.
Well, I will leave you now to enjoy the last few hours of 2011. Be careful, be smart and most of all be happy!
Until tomorrow (next year, folks!)…
Chloe Stowe
Secondly, I vow to you NOT to participate in the “year in review” nonsense every news station parades out this time of the year. I hate that. We lived it, folks. And the bad stuff, well, I for one don’t want to re-live it again for jollies; and the good stuff I already carry with me 24/7. So humongous waste of time in my estimation. Go find some real news and get back to me then… Ok, rant is now officially over. We can now all return to romantic smut and chronic mental illness. Yes, I do know how to party on New Year’s Eve.
Thirdly, it is my sad duty to report that today is the last of the chapter sneak peeks for Shafts of Torchlight. We have indeed reached the last chapter. It is a sad day in Hellesgate.
Fourthly, if that’s actually a word and my spellcheck says that it is, I would like to announce that on Sunday and Monday I will reveal to you the titles to Books #4 and #5 of the Hellesgate Series. Try to restrain yourself from somersaulting in pure unadulterated excitement. We don’t need any ER visits on the night that big glowy ball drops. *smiles*
In lieu of a fifthly (which really kind of weirds me out), I give you your last chapter sneak peek of Shafts of Torchlight…
Chapter Twelve: By Choice
“Did you ever ask?” Cane snapped before Matthew had the chance.
“No. There was no need. It was already done.” (page 149)
So, does everybody have a clear picture as to what’s going to happen with Matthew and Cane in their newest adventure? I doubt it. The ending surprised even me.
To update all curious blog-readers, my search for novel titles is slowly leading me into the realms of insanity. Quick trip, let me tell you. Sometimes I’d just like to take my brain out of my head and give it a good shaking. But screaming “What the freaking f**k?” to myself and my mischievous gray matter really doesn’t accomplish a thing. I know. I tried. My doctor upped my meds after that one.
The new website is getting closer to making its debut. I think I’ve actually got a couple of pages up at chloestowe.com but heck if I know. I’ll keep you updated.
Tomorrow’s blog will be either really early or really late. I’m hoping for early but the Fates are already whispering in my ear, “Oh, girl, it’s going to be so late.” I apologize in advance. Fear not, however, I will announce its posting to every corner of the internet like I always do. Yes, I get off on heralding.
Well, I will leave you now to enjoy the last few hours of 2011. Be careful, be smart and most of all be happy!
Until tomorrow (next year, folks!)…
Chloe Stowe
December 30, 2011
"Scuffing Up Marbles" - Day Twelve of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
It’s cover time! Yes, after twelve long days of putting up with my hype and my woes and my questionable taste in all things humor, you finally get a peek at the cover for Shafts of Torchlight. Are you excited? Is everyone rushing to their computers with sweaty palms and irregular heartbeats… or is that just me? *grins* http://thewordsandmadnessofchloestowe...
To accompany your eye candy, here is Chapter Eleven’s tease of the day…
Chapter Eleven: DiMaggio and Boss Tweed
“There was no turning back, however. Cane could only go forward.” (page 134)
January 3rd is only a few days away, everybody. Have you all reviewed Torched (Book #1) and Blow Torch (Book #2) like all good students of romantic smut series should do? I’d offer you my own cheat sheets to the novels but my chicken scratch is not safe for man nor beast. If you would like a little refresher on all things Hellesgate please see Day Eight’s blog for a look back to the characters of our small little Kansas town.
Whew! This promoting myself every day is something so foreign to me that it sends all my screwy brain circuits out for a dizzying spin. Whenever I get done publishing these daily masterpieces of egotism, I have to spend the next hour or so picking up the marbles scattered messily around my computer. Thankfully when it seems that I’ve actually lost track of a spent marble or two, God provides me with nice, shiny, new ones for me to scuff up the next day. It’s always nice when you realize that God’s got your back.
I think I’ll be needing some more divine intervention as I’m struggling with novel titles and building my first website at my recently purchased domain of chloestowe.com. Yesterday, I spent hours (yes, actually hours, folks) trying to come up with titles for my next batch of novels for Ravenous. I obsess. I know, I know, no surprise there. But I do try to keep it under some kind of control. I didn’t wake up every hour last night running titles through my head so I’ll count that as a success.
As for the website, well, I’m a perfectionist. You’re jaws are dropping, aren’t they? Yep, I’ve got a mania for every situation, folks. Anyhow, I will keep you updated on that marble-losing venture as well.
I will leave you now to go drool over my new cover. I’ve already shorted out two keyboards this morning myself, so be safe but stay horny… yeah, I can’t believe I said that either. I guess I lost a marble under the couch yesterday.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
To accompany your eye candy, here is Chapter Eleven’s tease of the day…
Chapter Eleven: DiMaggio and Boss Tweed
“There was no turning back, however. Cane could only go forward.” (page 134)
January 3rd is only a few days away, everybody. Have you all reviewed Torched (Book #1) and Blow Torch (Book #2) like all good students of romantic smut series should do? I’d offer you my own cheat sheets to the novels but my chicken scratch is not safe for man nor beast. If you would like a little refresher on all things Hellesgate please see Day Eight’s blog for a look back to the characters of our small little Kansas town.
Whew! This promoting myself every day is something so foreign to me that it sends all my screwy brain circuits out for a dizzying spin. Whenever I get done publishing these daily masterpieces of egotism, I have to spend the next hour or so picking up the marbles scattered messily around my computer. Thankfully when it seems that I’ve actually lost track of a spent marble or two, God provides me with nice, shiny, new ones for me to scuff up the next day. It’s always nice when you realize that God’s got your back.
I think I’ll be needing some more divine intervention as I’m struggling with novel titles and building my first website at my recently purchased domain of chloestowe.com. Yesterday, I spent hours (yes, actually hours, folks) trying to come up with titles for my next batch of novels for Ravenous. I obsess. I know, I know, no surprise there. But I do try to keep it under some kind of control. I didn’t wake up every hour last night running titles through my head so I’ll count that as a success.
As for the website, well, I’m a perfectionist. You’re jaws are dropping, aren’t they? Yep, I’ve got a mania for every situation, folks. Anyhow, I will keep you updated on that marble-losing venture as well.
I will leave you now to go drool over my new cover. I’ve already shorted out two keyboards this morning myself, so be safe but stay horny… yeah, I can’t believe I said that either. I guess I lost a marble under the couch yesterday.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
December 29, 2011
"Pits and Ladders" - Day Eleven of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
Depression sucks.
It sucks big.
No, I’m not even talking about myself. A friend of mine has been battling it for a while now and it’s finally reached the point that she really needs to talk to her doctor about it. Even lugging me and my baggage around as a friend doesn’t counter the stigma attached to psych drugs.
A person might fully understand, accept and support someone else who has to take these meds, but when it comes to their own lives and the thought of having to pop them themselves, it scares the living daylights out of them.
I understand. They don’t want to be “mellow.” They don’t want to feel drugged up all the time. They don’t want to be reliant on a pill to get them through the day…
It’s a stigma, a vile one that is based on people who are prescribed the wrong kind of medication (or any kind of medication in some cases) for the wrong reasons. My doctor has always told me that all he wants the meds to do is to give me more of an even playing field. That’s all I want for my friend. I just want her to be happy, to not get stuck down in the quick sand of depression where the more you struggle the further down you are dragged.
I tried to explain to her that the meds aren’t meant to keep you from getting down about life or angry. They’re meant to help you not get stuck in those pits. The meds are a ladder, a way back up to a world still filled with shadows but also filled with intermediate sunshine.
I pray that my friend will ask for that ladder.
I pray that I’ve led her to look for that help in the right direction….
On these kind of days, I just pray.
Now, to hopefully brighten your day, here is your daily chapter preview.
Chapter Ten: Heat
“Cane stopped, looked up and stared at his lover. “Did we just turn into a Lifetime Movie?”” (page 116)
Laughter…sometimes it’s a staunch ladder in and of itself.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
It sucks big.
No, I’m not even talking about myself. A friend of mine has been battling it for a while now and it’s finally reached the point that she really needs to talk to her doctor about it. Even lugging me and my baggage around as a friend doesn’t counter the stigma attached to psych drugs.
A person might fully understand, accept and support someone else who has to take these meds, but when it comes to their own lives and the thought of having to pop them themselves, it scares the living daylights out of them.
I understand. They don’t want to be “mellow.” They don’t want to feel drugged up all the time. They don’t want to be reliant on a pill to get them through the day…
It’s a stigma, a vile one that is based on people who are prescribed the wrong kind of medication (or any kind of medication in some cases) for the wrong reasons. My doctor has always told me that all he wants the meds to do is to give me more of an even playing field. That’s all I want for my friend. I just want her to be happy, to not get stuck down in the quick sand of depression where the more you struggle the further down you are dragged.
I tried to explain to her that the meds aren’t meant to keep you from getting down about life or angry. They’re meant to help you not get stuck in those pits. The meds are a ladder, a way back up to a world still filled with shadows but also filled with intermediate sunshine.
I pray that my friend will ask for that ladder.
I pray that I’ve led her to look for that help in the right direction….
On these kind of days, I just pray.
Now, to hopefully brighten your day, here is your daily chapter preview.
Chapter Ten: Heat
“Cane stopped, looked up and stared at his lover. “Did we just turn into a Lifetime Movie?”” (page 116)
Laughter…sometimes it’s a staunch ladder in and of itself.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
December 28, 2011
"The Naysayer Stings" - Day Ten of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
Day Ten breaks with a sad little sigh…There are no more reindeer games to play.
Yesterday I was so caught up in my gremlins that I forgot that my WWII reindeer were missing - and if that sentence doesn’t prove my mental peculiarities to my naysayers nothing ever will. *chuckles*
“Naysayers?” you might ask.
Yes, naysayers. Those people who scoff at my nerves, patting me on the head and telling me “just breathe and you’ll get over it. Everybody gets nervous. You’ve just got to get over it.”
I try to explain my condition to them again, even drag out a few medical records as show and tell material.
Another pat on my head, as they try to commiserate, “I used to get nervous too before a big test or a project. Just push yourself through it, Chloe, and you’ll be fine. You’ve got to try not to worry so much.”
After the twentieth to the thirtieth time at trying to explain myself (and swatting their damned hand off of my head by the fifth go-through), I admit defeat. I have to. I despise giving up and have spent most of the last twenty years fighting it tooth and nail, but beating my head against a brick wall won’t get me anything but some fresh symptoms of concussion.
Naysayers. They’re hard to turn. And the failure of not getting them to understand stings and stings and stings. And what’s worse is that the stinger they leave embedded within me breeds doubt… doubt that I’m not trying hard enough… that I’m just weak… that I’m just a big baby… that I’m a failure of a human being.
Sometimes it literally takes me months to recover.
Maybe I am weak? But I don’t think so. I hope by writing this blog I’m able to prove to a few of the naysayers and the latent naysayer in the back of my own head that I am strong.. sick but damned strong.
Whether you view me as weak or strong or just plain loony, here is your next chapter preview…
Chapter Nine: A Howl of Lost Wind
“He saw nothing. Nothing but white and cold and rock and water. Nothing that was going to help his husband survive the night.” (page 111)
I’m still missing my reindeer. *sighs*
It was fun dabbling in a little bit of historical romance. It’s a genre I’d love to explore, particularly exploring m/m relationships throughout the many varied time periods of human history. Of course, there would have to be a little willing suspension of disbelief but when isn’t there in historical romance? Anyhow, if you’re interested in seeing a Chloe Stowe take on the historical genre please drop a quick note to my publisher (www.ravenousromance). If there’s enough demand, there will be supply.
Or at least I hope so. *grins*
Until tomorrow where I promise there will be nary a naysayer…
Chloe Stowe
Yesterday I was so caught up in my gremlins that I forgot that my WWII reindeer were missing - and if that sentence doesn’t prove my mental peculiarities to my naysayers nothing ever will. *chuckles*
“Naysayers?” you might ask.
Yes, naysayers. Those people who scoff at my nerves, patting me on the head and telling me “just breathe and you’ll get over it. Everybody gets nervous. You’ve just got to get over it.”
I try to explain my condition to them again, even drag out a few medical records as show and tell material.
Another pat on my head, as they try to commiserate, “I used to get nervous too before a big test or a project. Just push yourself through it, Chloe, and you’ll be fine. You’ve got to try not to worry so much.”
After the twentieth to the thirtieth time at trying to explain myself (and swatting their damned hand off of my head by the fifth go-through), I admit defeat. I have to. I despise giving up and have spent most of the last twenty years fighting it tooth and nail, but beating my head against a brick wall won’t get me anything but some fresh symptoms of concussion.
Naysayers. They’re hard to turn. And the failure of not getting them to understand stings and stings and stings. And what’s worse is that the stinger they leave embedded within me breeds doubt… doubt that I’m not trying hard enough… that I’m just weak… that I’m just a big baby… that I’m a failure of a human being.
Sometimes it literally takes me months to recover.
Maybe I am weak? But I don’t think so. I hope by writing this blog I’m able to prove to a few of the naysayers and the latent naysayer in the back of my own head that I am strong.. sick but damned strong.
Whether you view me as weak or strong or just plain loony, here is your next chapter preview…
Chapter Nine: A Howl of Lost Wind
“He saw nothing. Nothing but white and cold and rock and water. Nothing that was going to help his husband survive the night.” (page 111)
I’m still missing my reindeer. *sighs*
It was fun dabbling in a little bit of historical romance. It’s a genre I’d love to explore, particularly exploring m/m relationships throughout the many varied time periods of human history. Of course, there would have to be a little willing suspension of disbelief but when isn’t there in historical romance? Anyhow, if you’re interested in seeing a Chloe Stowe take on the historical genre please drop a quick note to my publisher (www.ravenousromance). If there’s enough demand, there will be supply.
Or at least I hope so. *grins*
Until tomorrow where I promise there will be nary a naysayer…
Chloe Stowe
December 27, 2011
"Bushwhacked!" - the unexpected Day Nine of the Shafts of Torchlight Preview Event
Publishing gremlins. They’re vile little creatures that sneak up on unsuspecting authors while we sleep. They nibble and gnaw at our confidence with jagged sharp teeth. They laugh at us as they derail release dates with dastardly intent but complete stealth. These gremlins have no names except the curses we utter as we bang our heads against stone walls covered with briars…
Bloodied, bruised and freshly briared, I hang my head low in defeat today. The gremlins have bested me and Shafts of Torchlight today. Due to their machinations and ill-wills, the third book in the Hellesgate series will not be released until January 3.
Damn their slippery little hides!
Instead of shaking my white-knuckled fist at the tiny beasts any longer, however, I will end this apology with true regret for the delay, with gratitude for you hanging in there with me and with a vow that I will keep blogging until the publishing gremlins let my baby go!
January 3, 2012.
It’s got a nice ring to it… and I’m sure that Dudley my tattoo artist can rework the 12/27 on my hip bone into a 1/3 with a minimal amount of scarring.
*smirks*
Thankfully the foul little gremlins haven’t foiled me completely. I still have chapter previews in my back pocket. I still have mental anguish to share like bon-bon’s. I still have quirky humor to see us all through the long, hard week… which, of course, means nothing if I don’t have you on my six. I hope you hang in there with me. My six would miss you if you were gone.
So if there’s anyone still out there except the proverbial crickets, here is your next chapter preview…
Chapter Eight: Letting the Bastards Do Their Deed
“Praying for midnight was the only way Cane was managing not praying for dawn. If he could get over the hump of one day to the next maybe the darkness of Eastern Colorado masking as Iraq wouldn’t seem so suffocating.” (page 100)
So the blogging will continue. And come hell or high water, Shafts of Torchlight will be freed from the gremlins. *winks*
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
Bloodied, bruised and freshly briared, I hang my head low in defeat today. The gremlins have bested me and Shafts of Torchlight today. Due to their machinations and ill-wills, the third book in the Hellesgate series will not be released until January 3.
Damn their slippery little hides!
Instead of shaking my white-knuckled fist at the tiny beasts any longer, however, I will end this apology with true regret for the delay, with gratitude for you hanging in there with me and with a vow that I will keep blogging until the publishing gremlins let my baby go!
January 3, 2012.
It’s got a nice ring to it… and I’m sure that Dudley my tattoo artist can rework the 12/27 on my hip bone into a 1/3 with a minimal amount of scarring.
*smirks*
Thankfully the foul little gremlins haven’t foiled me completely. I still have chapter previews in my back pocket. I still have mental anguish to share like bon-bon’s. I still have quirky humor to see us all through the long, hard week… which, of course, means nothing if I don’t have you on my six. I hope you hang in there with me. My six would miss you if you were gone.
So if there’s anyone still out there except the proverbial crickets, here is your next chapter preview…
Chapter Eight: Letting the Bastards Do Their Deed
“Praying for midnight was the only way Cane was managing not praying for dawn. If he could get over the hump of one day to the next maybe the darkness of Eastern Colorado masking as Iraq wouldn’t seem so suffocating.” (page 100)
So the blogging will continue. And come hell or high water, Shafts of Torchlight will be freed from the gremlins. *winks*
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe
The daily blog of a published Romance author, Cozy Mystery rookie... and certified crazy woman.
Well into its 6th year, this blog chronicles the daily triumphs and struggles of a chronic panic / anxie ...more
Well into its 6th year, this blog chronicles the daily triumphs and struggles of a chronic panic / anxie ...more
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