Chloe Stowe's Blog: The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe, page 21
November 16, 2011
An Introduction to "Peak and Thrust: 12 Steps to a Better Sex Life" or a cleverly entitled sneak peak
Welcome one and all to the 12 day preview of Peak and Thrust! Over the next week and a half, we will explore how my eighth novel can bring you a more satisfying roll in the hay. Yes, by following these 12 steps you and your lover can experience more zing in the sack, more va-va-va-boom in that oft-shared shower, more “ooh” in your “ooh-la-la”…
Or this could all be some clever marketing scheme to “peak” (notice smart tie in, please) your interest in my upcoming release? Hmmm. Well, the truth of my motives I leave to you my dear friends. I can promise you that if you do follow along you will be entertained, enlightened and quite possibly emboldened in your day to day life.
How you might ask?
With every step will come not only a preview of the name of one of Peak and Thrust’s chapters but also a teasing little excerpt to tickle your romantic bone… or your smut bone, whichever you bring to the party.
Along the way, my wry sense of humor will make frequent appearances as I give you all a behind the scenes “peek” at the writing of P&T.
More importantly, however, (at least I hope) are the tiny insights I’ll give you into life with a chronic mental illness.
Whenever you pick up a Chloe Stowe original, you get a little piece of me with it. It may not always be pretty and shiny, but I do hope it is always enlightening. Shining my little penlight into the often over-looked shadows of mental illness may be my reason for being here on this planet. I hope it is and I hope you will all share a little of your light with those still lost in their mind’s dark.
Then, of course, there’s the sex… or the step to better sex, I should say. (Sorry but the budget didn’t really allow for passing out condoms to all comers, so there will be no author sanctioned penetration here. However, please feel free to bring your own though to share with the rest of the group. The more condoms the merrier, I always say.)
Anyhow, there will be fun. There will be teasers. There will be uncut gems of hope. All I ask for in return is your patience with my sometimes royally screwed up mind. It may be a bumpy ride folks, but when we’ve got hot guys hungry for some loving bumping along with us then it’s all good, right?
Tomorrow Step One will arrive in your social media outlets and with it a look at the Prologue for my eighth original novel. Until then and to thoroughly whet your appetite for more I give you today the world premiere of the official (at least until my publisher changes it) back-cover blurb for Peak and Thrust…
“Happily ever after’s” rarely came to men like these…
Joey Ballios was a cop. For ten years his life had been little more than long foot chases through the cold Detroit snow, piles of paperwork on perps who would never be caught, and forty hour shifts that were as thankless as they were heroic.
Laird Fox climbed mountains. His whole life had been dedicated to scaling the unreachable and bringing the unattainable into the novice’s reach. He was a mountain guide in Alaska, a man who spent his days taking strangers to the top of the world, fulfilling their dreams while ignoring his own.
The two men’s lives should never have touched, their worlds never have crossed.
But when three gunshots ring out in a sweltering summer night, some lives are cursed while others are saved…
Joey’s partner is dead, shot in a darkened house that bears a dangerous secret. Running from that night, Joey escapes to Alaska.
There he finds Laird, a man who offers him sweet, scorching sex, a fresh take on life and a heart as scarred and as neglected as Joey’s own.
For five weeks they live for and love each other. But when the long held secrets of the past won’t let Joey go, both men’s futures are put on the line.
Will they surrender to a litany of lies? Or will they rise above them and rescue each other?
Sometimes Fate is more than just a whisper in the hot Detroit wind, more than just a wish on a distant Alaskan star.
Sometimes Fate arrives on tragedy’s tail, a post-script that begins with “Once upon a time.”
I hope to see you all tomorrow for Step One. Please bring your friends and your condoms!
Until next time…
Thank you all for reading!
Chloe Stowe
Or this could all be some clever marketing scheme to “peak” (notice smart tie in, please) your interest in my upcoming release? Hmmm. Well, the truth of my motives I leave to you my dear friends. I can promise you that if you do follow along you will be entertained, enlightened and quite possibly emboldened in your day to day life.
How you might ask?
With every step will come not only a preview of the name of one of Peak and Thrust’s chapters but also a teasing little excerpt to tickle your romantic bone… or your smut bone, whichever you bring to the party.
Along the way, my wry sense of humor will make frequent appearances as I give you all a behind the scenes “peek” at the writing of P&T.
More importantly, however, (at least I hope) are the tiny insights I’ll give you into life with a chronic mental illness.
Whenever you pick up a Chloe Stowe original, you get a little piece of me with it. It may not always be pretty and shiny, but I do hope it is always enlightening. Shining my little penlight into the often over-looked shadows of mental illness may be my reason for being here on this planet. I hope it is and I hope you will all share a little of your light with those still lost in their mind’s dark.
Then, of course, there’s the sex… or the step to better sex, I should say. (Sorry but the budget didn’t really allow for passing out condoms to all comers, so there will be no author sanctioned penetration here. However, please feel free to bring your own though to share with the rest of the group. The more condoms the merrier, I always say.)
Anyhow, there will be fun. There will be teasers. There will be uncut gems of hope. All I ask for in return is your patience with my sometimes royally screwed up mind. It may be a bumpy ride folks, but when we’ve got hot guys hungry for some loving bumping along with us then it’s all good, right?
Tomorrow Step One will arrive in your social media outlets and with it a look at the Prologue for my eighth original novel. Until then and to thoroughly whet your appetite for more I give you today the world premiere of the official (at least until my publisher changes it) back-cover blurb for Peak and Thrust…
“Happily ever after’s” rarely came to men like these…
Joey Ballios was a cop. For ten years his life had been little more than long foot chases through the cold Detroit snow, piles of paperwork on perps who would never be caught, and forty hour shifts that were as thankless as they were heroic.
Laird Fox climbed mountains. His whole life had been dedicated to scaling the unreachable and bringing the unattainable into the novice’s reach. He was a mountain guide in Alaska, a man who spent his days taking strangers to the top of the world, fulfilling their dreams while ignoring his own.
The two men’s lives should never have touched, their worlds never have crossed.
But when three gunshots ring out in a sweltering summer night, some lives are cursed while others are saved…
Joey’s partner is dead, shot in a darkened house that bears a dangerous secret. Running from that night, Joey escapes to Alaska.
There he finds Laird, a man who offers him sweet, scorching sex, a fresh take on life and a heart as scarred and as neglected as Joey’s own.
For five weeks they live for and love each other. But when the long held secrets of the past won’t let Joey go, both men’s futures are put on the line.
Will they surrender to a litany of lies? Or will they rise above them and rescue each other?
Sometimes Fate is more than just a whisper in the hot Detroit wind, more than just a wish on a distant Alaskan star.
Sometimes Fate arrives on tragedy’s tail, a post-script that begins with “Once upon a time.”
I hope to see you all tomorrow for Step One. Please bring your friends and your condoms!
Until next time…
Thank you all for reading!
Chloe Stowe
November 14, 2011
Peak and Thrust: The Long-in-the-Tooth Years
Years have passed it seems since I began writing my 8th novel, a deceptively innocent (for romantic smut, that is) piece by the title Peak and Thrust. Seasons have come and gone, institutions have crumbled and fallen (Penn State, anyone?), my poodle now has age spots, I now have age spots. For a 50K novel that the calendar vows to me only took two months to complete, P&T (as I have affectionately dubbed it) sure has been a scrappy-assed, long-in-the-tooth bear to write.
Yes, a scrappy-assed, long-in-the-tooth bear.
Are you feeling the love, here?
Surprisingly, you should be. For all the wrangling with its often ungainly legs, for all the brain food this little fella ate up leaving it’s mama high and dry on anything approximating intellect, for all the fur this precious one has shed in my life, I have grown incredibly fond of this little terror.
Ain’t love strange?
(If you don’t think so, give my books a read sometime.)
Anyhow back to the Ursa Major of this tale… You would think after writing seven books in the romance genre that writing an eighth would have words like “lickity-split” and “greased lightning” attached to it…. Yeah, I’m a naïve little bugger, aren’t I?
Live and learn, huh?
P&T started out such a happy, normal child. The outline was concise though appropriately detailed and nicely colorful. Laird and Joey were strapping young gentlemen eager for a little action and a lot of love. The men came ready to play and, heck, did I have a humdinger of a story for them.
The Prologue came out without a single labor pain. Slick as a whistle. Should have suspected something right there.
Chapter One… ah, sweet old Chapter One… with it came the teeth, the claws, the carnivorous spit. This little newborn cubby didn’t want anything to do with its mama.
Soon, it’s mama returned the feeling.
Yesterday, I turned in the completed manuscript to my publisher. Yesterday, I finished Chapter One.
I admit I let it fester. I let the toothy little beast linger unattended in the shadows. I let it spit venom at all the other little chapters.
Then yesterday as the big deadline clock in the sky prepared to strike, I gave the little fella one last go… (cue the big triumphant music here, folks)… and we bonded. Finally. It was a horribly sappy moment that you authors out there probably understand (at least, I hope somebody out there understands but we won’t really worry about that until my competency hearing, ok?).
With Chapter One’s return to the fold, P&T blossomed into a novel I proudly call my own… long teeth and scrappy ass included.
In the next few days please join me as I introduce you to Peak and Thrust chapter by chapter (much as I did for Hard Wood, Soft Heart). For twelve days, you’ll get a new chapter’s name and an excerpt.
There’s bound to be laughter and tears, heart-warming anecdotes and harsh scraps of my reality as a day-to-day mental illness survivor.
As always, thank you for reading and thank you all for bringing every new Chapter One into my life.
Sincerely,
Chloe Stowe
Yes, a scrappy-assed, long-in-the-tooth bear.
Are you feeling the love, here?
Surprisingly, you should be. For all the wrangling with its often ungainly legs, for all the brain food this little fella ate up leaving it’s mama high and dry on anything approximating intellect, for all the fur this precious one has shed in my life, I have grown incredibly fond of this little terror.
Ain’t love strange?
(If you don’t think so, give my books a read sometime.)
Anyhow back to the Ursa Major of this tale… You would think after writing seven books in the romance genre that writing an eighth would have words like “lickity-split” and “greased lightning” attached to it…. Yeah, I’m a naïve little bugger, aren’t I?
Live and learn, huh?
P&T started out such a happy, normal child. The outline was concise though appropriately detailed and nicely colorful. Laird and Joey were strapping young gentlemen eager for a little action and a lot of love. The men came ready to play and, heck, did I have a humdinger of a story for them.
The Prologue came out without a single labor pain. Slick as a whistle. Should have suspected something right there.
Chapter One… ah, sweet old Chapter One… with it came the teeth, the claws, the carnivorous spit. This little newborn cubby didn’t want anything to do with its mama.
Soon, it’s mama returned the feeling.
Yesterday, I turned in the completed manuscript to my publisher. Yesterday, I finished Chapter One.
I admit I let it fester. I let the toothy little beast linger unattended in the shadows. I let it spit venom at all the other little chapters.
Then yesterday as the big deadline clock in the sky prepared to strike, I gave the little fella one last go… (cue the big triumphant music here, folks)… and we bonded. Finally. It was a horribly sappy moment that you authors out there probably understand (at least, I hope somebody out there understands but we won’t really worry about that until my competency hearing, ok?).
With Chapter One’s return to the fold, P&T blossomed into a novel I proudly call my own… long teeth and scrappy ass included.
In the next few days please join me as I introduce you to Peak and Thrust chapter by chapter (much as I did for Hard Wood, Soft Heart). For twelve days, you’ll get a new chapter’s name and an excerpt.
There’s bound to be laughter and tears, heart-warming anecdotes and harsh scraps of my reality as a day-to-day mental illness survivor.
As always, thank you for reading and thank you all for bringing every new Chapter One into my life.
Sincerely,
Chloe Stowe
October 31, 2011
Halloween for We Crooked Souls
The flutter of bat wings, the “click-click-click” of a rat’s nails across a cold, stone floor, the cackles of old women, the howls of men turned wolf… Halloween has arrived once again on a stilted heartbeat and a lost prayer.
As dusk awaits us in the long cruel shadows of fall, shall we gather while it’s still light and talk of fright?
It may surprise you that while I walk through life with panic forever holding my hand in its cruel, cold grasp, the fear borne on All Hallow’s Eve is a welcomed companion, a kindred spirit to share my oft-twisted and darkened path.
On Halloween the whole world shakes and trembles, terrified of unknowns behind near corners. I know this fear. I wake with it every dawn. But on October 31st alone do my imaginary demons don masks and costumes seen by all. Oh, I know that these monsters, ghouls and goblins that fill the leaf covered streets are nothing more than folly. I know that they are nothing more but games that sane people play to have a taste of forbidden insanity.
Is it so wrong, so surprising then that we who gorge ourselves every day on bittersweet dementia, enjoy watching novices swing in our playgrounds of bedlam one night a year, nibbling at our curses like candy?
Tomorrow the gate will be shut, the swings filled once again with only familiar broken souls.
Tonight then let us welcome new blood, let them feed off our fear… for tomorrow the masks will be put away and the demons will be for our eyes alone to see.
Happy Halloween.
Chloe Stowe
As dusk awaits us in the long cruel shadows of fall, shall we gather while it’s still light and talk of fright?
It may surprise you that while I walk through life with panic forever holding my hand in its cruel, cold grasp, the fear borne on All Hallow’s Eve is a welcomed companion, a kindred spirit to share my oft-twisted and darkened path.
On Halloween the whole world shakes and trembles, terrified of unknowns behind near corners. I know this fear. I wake with it every dawn. But on October 31st alone do my imaginary demons don masks and costumes seen by all. Oh, I know that these monsters, ghouls and goblins that fill the leaf covered streets are nothing more than folly. I know that they are nothing more but games that sane people play to have a taste of forbidden insanity.
Is it so wrong, so surprising then that we who gorge ourselves every day on bittersweet dementia, enjoy watching novices swing in our playgrounds of bedlam one night a year, nibbling at our curses like candy?
Tomorrow the gate will be shut, the swings filled once again with only familiar broken souls.
Tonight then let us welcome new blood, let them feed off our fear… for tomorrow the masks will be put away and the demons will be for our eyes alone to see.
Happy Halloween.
Chloe Stowe
September 19, 2011
Day Twelve... of the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart
Day Twelve is here!
The end and the beginning.
No, it’s not quite as Biblical as that, but it has surprisingly (utterly surprised author right here) worked out perfectly time wise, because…
Hard Wood, Soft Heart is out today!!!
Yes, you will no longer be forced to rely on my daily ramblings and teases for a taste of new Chloe Stowe romance/smut/adventure/true love. You get the real deal now with no silly asides from the author. You, my friends, are the lucky ones. I’ve got to live with the asides-thing 24/7… kind of like an extra toe. See how lucky you truly are?
So, without further adieu…
Chapter Eleven: Creosote Bushes and Bearpoppies
“The key slipped into the lock with surprising ease. Saul was shaking so bad he had feared that he’d need some kind of back up just to get into his door.” (page 162)
So we end with bearpoppies. How many multi-day teasing blogging events end with bearpoppies? You guys must have a very eager leprechaun in your pocket. Luck is just raining down on you in four-leaf clovers.
I hope I’ve been able to bring a smile into your lives and perhaps a little insight too. Humbly, I ask you to consider adding Hard Wood, Soft Heart into your library. I really do think you’ll enjoy it.
Well, until the next time we meet, please pick up a milkshake on your way out. Any flavor you want, babe, you’ve got it.
Until next time, everyone…
Chloe Stowe
The end and the beginning.
No, it’s not quite as Biblical as that, but it has surprisingly (utterly surprised author right here) worked out perfectly time wise, because…
Hard Wood, Soft Heart is out today!!!
Yes, you will no longer be forced to rely on my daily ramblings and teases for a taste of new Chloe Stowe romance/smut/adventure/true love. You get the real deal now with no silly asides from the author. You, my friends, are the lucky ones. I’ve got to live with the asides-thing 24/7… kind of like an extra toe. See how lucky you truly are?
So, without further adieu…
Chapter Eleven: Creosote Bushes and Bearpoppies
“The key slipped into the lock with surprising ease. Saul was shaking so bad he had feared that he’d need some kind of back up just to get into his door.” (page 162)
So we end with bearpoppies. How many multi-day teasing blogging events end with bearpoppies? You guys must have a very eager leprechaun in your pocket. Luck is just raining down on you in four-leaf clovers.
I hope I’ve been able to bring a smile into your lives and perhaps a little insight too. Humbly, I ask you to consider adding Hard Wood, Soft Heart into your library. I really do think you’ll enjoy it.
Well, until the next time we meet, please pick up a milkshake on your way out. Any flavor you want, babe, you’ve got it.
Until next time, everyone…
Chloe Stowe
September 18, 2011
Day Eleven... of the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart
Day Eleven arrives with the elusive Chapter Three tied, gagged and flung over its shoulder. Yes, it did take a while for my mad skills (inside joke here, folks) to realize that Chapter Three’s tease had been passed over. It was kind of like one of those prison breaks where the inmate skips out with the laundry truck and nobody notices that Prisoner #3 is missing until bed check. Oh yeah, classic bad warden here. I apologize and will relinquish my billy stick tomorrow.
Until tomorrow brings the end to the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart Spectacular, I think I’ll keep swinging my stick at my side and bask in my delusion of grandeur until the very end. In keeping with said theme, I’ll have the officers drag in Prisoner #3 right now (and if there’s any man-on-man, rough and tumble“manhandling” going on in my facility, I expect all parties to take detailed notes for a future novel)…
Chapter Three: Animal Tactics
“Saul Tidewater’s resistance was dead in the water and starting to stink…” (page 44)
Admittedly Prisoner #3 is a scrawny little fellow, but what he lacks in bulk he makes up for in grit and gristle.
Well, folks, Prisoner #11 (yes, that would be Chapter 11. I am taking this metaphor to the embarrassing end) is doing push-ups in his cell, getting ready for tomorrow’s release. Luckily, the extra day #11 had to serve for bad behavior has only resulted in a little extra ink on our man’s posterior. But since he is bringing up the rear, it only fits that his end is a bit more colorful than even I expected.
Your visiting a prison, guys. All you’ve got for your refreshments is stale bread and water… unless, of course, you’ve got a carton of cigs or some baseball cards you’re looking to trade for?
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
Until tomorrow brings the end to the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart Spectacular, I think I’ll keep swinging my stick at my side and bask in my delusion of grandeur until the very end. In keeping with said theme, I’ll have the officers drag in Prisoner #3 right now (and if there’s any man-on-man, rough and tumble“manhandling” going on in my facility, I expect all parties to take detailed notes for a future novel)…
Chapter Three: Animal Tactics
“Saul Tidewater’s resistance was dead in the water and starting to stink…” (page 44)
Admittedly Prisoner #3 is a scrawny little fellow, but what he lacks in bulk he makes up for in grit and gristle.
Well, folks, Prisoner #11 (yes, that would be Chapter 11. I am taking this metaphor to the embarrassing end) is doing push-ups in his cell, getting ready for tomorrow’s release. Luckily, the extra day #11 had to serve for bad behavior has only resulted in a little extra ink on our man’s posterior. But since he is bringing up the rear, it only fits that his end is a bit more colorful than even I expected.
Your visiting a prison, guys. All you’ve got for your refreshments is stale bread and water… unless, of course, you’ve got a carton of cigs or some baseball cards you’re looking to trade for?
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
September 17, 2011
Day Ten... of the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart
Day Ten arrives on the bus with the College Game Day crew. Yes, Tallahassee is jumping this morning as ESPN and the University of Oklahoma come roaring into town for tonight’s HUGE football game of #1 Oklahoma vs. #5 FSU ! Go Noles!
In this electric atmosphere of man on man tackles and beer and the possibilities of celebratory sex with pom-poms and big foam Number One’s, I think there is little window dressing left to be done for your Chapter Ten tease…
Chapter Ten: Between the Polite and the Psychotic
“It was a little like watching an old black and white movie stuck on pause. The dark, broken silhouette was not moving.” (page 155)
So, the plot thickens. I mean, really, was there ever any doubt? This is me we’re talking about here, folks.
As an added bonus to all my loyal teaser-readers, I’d like to make the grand announcement as to the title of my next novel, my 8th for Ravenous Romance… Are you ready?… Are you piqued and pumped?… Are you fired up for the first Chloe Stowe story about a cop?… Well, ready or not, Peak and Thrust will be here this November!
To celebrate my first foray into the world of shields, blue walls and hot interrogations, I provide you today with coffee and doughnuts, two staples of cop-land.
Only two more teases to go, guys!
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
In this electric atmosphere of man on man tackles and beer and the possibilities of celebratory sex with pom-poms and big foam Number One’s, I think there is little window dressing left to be done for your Chapter Ten tease…
Chapter Ten: Between the Polite and the Psychotic
“It was a little like watching an old black and white movie stuck on pause. The dark, broken silhouette was not moving.” (page 155)
So, the plot thickens. I mean, really, was there ever any doubt? This is me we’re talking about here, folks.
As an added bonus to all my loyal teaser-readers, I’d like to make the grand announcement as to the title of my next novel, my 8th for Ravenous Romance… Are you ready?… Are you piqued and pumped?… Are you fired up for the first Chloe Stowe story about a cop?… Well, ready or not, Peak and Thrust will be here this November!
To celebrate my first foray into the world of shields, blue walls and hot interrogations, I provide you today with coffee and doughnuts, two staples of cop-land.
Only two more teases to go, guys!
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
September 16, 2011
Day Nine... of the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart
Day Nine.
It sounds like some kind of action/adventure/spy movie, doesn’t it? Probably starring Matt Damon, Morgan Freeman and perhaps in an odd bit of casting John Travolta as the president. Tossing in Cate Blanchett into any film is always a good move so we’ll give her the female lead. For my own personal consumption Ryan Gosling and Scott Caan will also have to be present. Believe me, their talents will be put to very good and very frequent use...
Yeah, ok, I have no idea where that little tangent sprouted from but let’s all just ignore it was ever there and move on like dear Ms. Stowe is actually sane. Agreed? Good.
As for your Day Nine tease, here it is…
Chapter Nine: The Irony of Sirens
“Mercer knew the refuge like the back of his hand and would have no trouble driving out of there in the dark. Besides, he liked watching the million stars pop out of the dark heavens. When he had been a boy he had thought it was some kind of magic trick. He remembered his mother laughed when he’d told her that. He never told her anything like that again.” (page 134)
On the novel front, I sent back the final edits for this fine romantic masterpiece yesterday. Word on the street is that Hard Wood, Soft Heart should be out the middle of next week. Pardon me while I “Hooray!” Please feel free to join in. There’s naughty confetti in the bowl by the front door. But let’s be careful out there everybody. Nobody wants a metallic penis in their eye… at lease I don’t think anybody does. We’ll just assume not.
As for all of those looking for their through-the-keyhole peek at my rather screwed up life, here that is…
How do I decide what to buy at the grocery store? Simple. It all depends on two things.
One: my mental health of that shopping day. Yes, folks, it fluctuates more than the stock market so I never know until I wake up what I’ll be able to pull off normally that day. Cool, huh?
Two: where in the store the food is located. I’ve got to be having one darn good sane day to get me to the meat section. Frozen foods take too long to find what I’m looking for so they’re usually off my list. In fact anything that I don’t know where it is in the store is a no-no. Me wandering through the aisles is a bad, bad thing. Thankfully the produce and bread are usually fairly close to the door so they’re usually good to go. What I'm actually hungry for never, ever comes into play…
Fun stuff.
Oh yeah.
Ok, everybody’s head away from the keyhole for the day. I’ve got you some fresh produce on your way out today. Please pick up an apple, plum or watermelon and enjoy the few fruits that have somehow survived in the weeds of my insanity.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
It sounds like some kind of action/adventure/spy movie, doesn’t it? Probably starring Matt Damon, Morgan Freeman and perhaps in an odd bit of casting John Travolta as the president. Tossing in Cate Blanchett into any film is always a good move so we’ll give her the female lead. For my own personal consumption Ryan Gosling and Scott Caan will also have to be present. Believe me, their talents will be put to very good and very frequent use...
Yeah, ok, I have no idea where that little tangent sprouted from but let’s all just ignore it was ever there and move on like dear Ms. Stowe is actually sane. Agreed? Good.
As for your Day Nine tease, here it is…
Chapter Nine: The Irony of Sirens
“Mercer knew the refuge like the back of his hand and would have no trouble driving out of there in the dark. Besides, he liked watching the million stars pop out of the dark heavens. When he had been a boy he had thought it was some kind of magic trick. He remembered his mother laughed when he’d told her that. He never told her anything like that again.” (page 134)
On the novel front, I sent back the final edits for this fine romantic masterpiece yesterday. Word on the street is that Hard Wood, Soft Heart should be out the middle of next week. Pardon me while I “Hooray!” Please feel free to join in. There’s naughty confetti in the bowl by the front door. But let’s be careful out there everybody. Nobody wants a metallic penis in their eye… at lease I don’t think anybody does. We’ll just assume not.
As for all of those looking for their through-the-keyhole peek at my rather screwed up life, here that is…
How do I decide what to buy at the grocery store? Simple. It all depends on two things.
One: my mental health of that shopping day. Yes, folks, it fluctuates more than the stock market so I never know until I wake up what I’ll be able to pull off normally that day. Cool, huh?
Two: where in the store the food is located. I’ve got to be having one darn good sane day to get me to the meat section. Frozen foods take too long to find what I’m looking for so they’re usually off my list. In fact anything that I don’t know where it is in the store is a no-no. Me wandering through the aisles is a bad, bad thing. Thankfully the produce and bread are usually fairly close to the door so they’re usually good to go. What I'm actually hungry for never, ever comes into play…
Fun stuff.
Oh yeah.
Ok, everybody’s head away from the keyhole for the day. I’ve got you some fresh produce on your way out today. Please pick up an apple, plum or watermelon and enjoy the few fruits that have somehow survived in the weeds of my insanity.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
September 15, 2011
Days Seven and Eight... of the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart
As Day Eight arrives with the raindrops, I must apologize for Day Seven never reaching your airwaves. I am sorry to all of you who made the effort to drop by and found no one answering the door. As punishment the naughty half of myself is offering herself up for a spanking. The rest of me just hopes that I am forgiven and that two chapter teases in one day will help to soothe any sore feelings. Yes, I am essentially bribing you with smut… hey, but if you’ve got to get bribed ain’t hot men and sex the way to go?
Moving on quickly, I will not clog up any of your lives with my nonsensical brain matter today. Tomorrow, however, there will be no holds barred… It could get messy in here, folks. Just saying.
Chapter Seven: Behind Dusk’s Curtain
“The weeks passed in a lazy rush of sex and longing… Their moments together during this time were tiny treasures in their own right… memories to hold to in the dark nights to come…” (page 115)
Chapter Eight: Under the Joshua Tree
“The “if you die, I die” Saul left unsaid. He hadn’t come to accept that part yet himself. He wasn’t about to ask Mercer to do it first. (page 131)
As you may have noticed, drama has apparently hit our young men and their love lives! I’d cut and paste in a drum roll here if I had any idea what I was doing. Alas, I do not and can only offer you a suspenseful silence to see you to tomorrow… of course, I can also offer you the New York style cheesecake sitting at the door. Please take a piece or two and enjoy your man-sex-cheesecake bribe.
I hope to see you all back here for Day Nine!
Until tomorrow (really, this time)…
Chloe Stowe
Chloe Stowe
Moving on quickly, I will not clog up any of your lives with my nonsensical brain matter today. Tomorrow, however, there will be no holds barred… It could get messy in here, folks. Just saying.
Chapter Seven: Behind Dusk’s Curtain
“The weeks passed in a lazy rush of sex and longing… Their moments together during this time were tiny treasures in their own right… memories to hold to in the dark nights to come…” (page 115)
Chapter Eight: Under the Joshua Tree
“The “if you die, I die” Saul left unsaid. He hadn’t come to accept that part yet himself. He wasn’t about to ask Mercer to do it first. (page 131)
As you may have noticed, drama has apparently hit our young men and their love lives! I’d cut and paste in a drum roll here if I had any idea what I was doing. Alas, I do not and can only offer you a suspenseful silence to see you to tomorrow… of course, I can also offer you the New York style cheesecake sitting at the door. Please take a piece or two and enjoy your man-sex-cheesecake bribe.
I hope to see you all back here for Day Nine!
Until tomorrow (really, this time)…
Chloe Stowe
Chloe Stowe
September 13, 2011
Day Six... of the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart
Good morning and welcome everyone to Day Six of the Twelve Day Hard Wood, Soft Heart Teaser Spectacular!
We’re half way there and to celebrate this monstrosity of self-promotion, silliness and smut a special surprise awaits you as you leave. No peeking!
To even out the silliness that was yesterday’s post I thought I’d give you all another glimpse into my world of crossed brain wires and brick walls. I hope this little window into my life doesn’t bore. It’s meant to encourage others in a similar situation and to enlighten those who are blessed not to know anything of which I speak. So here it goes –
My daily life is full of brick walls. Not just any ordinary brick walls either, but the kind that spring up out of literally nowhere and refuse to be torn down by prayer, explosive or tenacity. Let me give you an example…
One morning I wake up, get my sh*t together and head outside to my backyard deck with an orange juice in hand. I do it every day. I enjoy it, but I’ve never thought anything about it. Who would?
Well, this one morning I put my hand on the knob of the back door and my mind simply refuses to allow me to turn it. There’s no explanation forthcoming from my head as to why I can no longer go out that door. I just simply can’t.
So like most of you, I tell myself “Just do it! Don’t think. You have to do it so do it.” Yeah, well, that doesn’t work. Next comes the logical approach, trying to think through the reasons why my mind might be balking about going out that door. Unfortunately I can find no reasons. Even when I’m able to perhaps catch a glimpse of a shadow of a possible reason to this stupidity, it doesn’t help. All the logic and common sense and coping mechanisms in the world doesn’t get that brick wall between me and the back door down. I’m literally, figuratively and physically stuck.
Yeah, I know. It sounds silly, ridiculous, funny even. But it’s not… at least not for the crazy girl on the wrong side of the brick wall. Sometimes when I’m standing there, I hate my mind – never my life but my mind I could really put a freaking beat down on my brain.
So what do I do, the curious reader might ask? Do I never go out my back door again? The answer is a painful “maybe.” Just as my brick walls are wont to pop up out of nowhere they occasionally start to crumble in their own inexplicable time.
Maybe in a few months, my brain will let me talk myself through that door.
Maybe it will be years.
Maybe it will be never.
So, the curious reader asks again, what do I do?
I go out the window.
I go in through the back gate.
I jump my fence with my orange juice in hand and spend my morning on my deck.
Simply, I find ways to get around the brick wall. I can’t tear it down but I am a darn good escape artist. I will usually get by it somehow. So pardon my scraped knuckles, my skinned knees, the spilled orange juice on my shirt. I’m just trying to live here. I’m just trying to get out that door.
Ok, on to the appropriately named sixth chapter of Hard Wood, Soft Heart…
Chapter Six: Dirty Little Secret
“The road was bumpy. Saul didn’t mention that though. He figured it was fairly obvious. Besides, he really didn’t want to engage the man. Mercer was driving. It was definitely an inappropriate moment to play vacuum cleaner and suck the man’s brains out through his cock like a straw…” (page 96)
Now, for your surprise! After suffering through me and my brick walls, you have definitely earned a sneak peek at the cover for my seventh novel! So once the thunderous applause has died down to an excited murmur, you can check it out here… http://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?...
On your way out please help yourself to a handful of M&M’s. I think we all need the chocolate after that touch of mortar and brick insanity.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
Chloe Stowe
We’re half way there and to celebrate this monstrosity of self-promotion, silliness and smut a special surprise awaits you as you leave. No peeking!
To even out the silliness that was yesterday’s post I thought I’d give you all another glimpse into my world of crossed brain wires and brick walls. I hope this little window into my life doesn’t bore. It’s meant to encourage others in a similar situation and to enlighten those who are blessed not to know anything of which I speak. So here it goes –
My daily life is full of brick walls. Not just any ordinary brick walls either, but the kind that spring up out of literally nowhere and refuse to be torn down by prayer, explosive or tenacity. Let me give you an example…
One morning I wake up, get my sh*t together and head outside to my backyard deck with an orange juice in hand. I do it every day. I enjoy it, but I’ve never thought anything about it. Who would?
Well, this one morning I put my hand on the knob of the back door and my mind simply refuses to allow me to turn it. There’s no explanation forthcoming from my head as to why I can no longer go out that door. I just simply can’t.
So like most of you, I tell myself “Just do it! Don’t think. You have to do it so do it.” Yeah, well, that doesn’t work. Next comes the logical approach, trying to think through the reasons why my mind might be balking about going out that door. Unfortunately I can find no reasons. Even when I’m able to perhaps catch a glimpse of a shadow of a possible reason to this stupidity, it doesn’t help. All the logic and common sense and coping mechanisms in the world doesn’t get that brick wall between me and the back door down. I’m literally, figuratively and physically stuck.
Yeah, I know. It sounds silly, ridiculous, funny even. But it’s not… at least not for the crazy girl on the wrong side of the brick wall. Sometimes when I’m standing there, I hate my mind – never my life but my mind I could really put a freaking beat down on my brain.
So what do I do, the curious reader might ask? Do I never go out my back door again? The answer is a painful “maybe.” Just as my brick walls are wont to pop up out of nowhere they occasionally start to crumble in their own inexplicable time.
Maybe in a few months, my brain will let me talk myself through that door.
Maybe it will be years.
Maybe it will be never.
So, the curious reader asks again, what do I do?
I go out the window.
I go in through the back gate.
I jump my fence with my orange juice in hand and spend my morning on my deck.
Simply, I find ways to get around the brick wall. I can’t tear it down but I am a darn good escape artist. I will usually get by it somehow. So pardon my scraped knuckles, my skinned knees, the spilled orange juice on my shirt. I’m just trying to live here. I’m just trying to get out that door.
Ok, on to the appropriately named sixth chapter of Hard Wood, Soft Heart…
Chapter Six: Dirty Little Secret
“The road was bumpy. Saul didn’t mention that though. He figured it was fairly obvious. Besides, he really didn’t want to engage the man. Mercer was driving. It was definitely an inappropriate moment to play vacuum cleaner and suck the man’s brains out through his cock like a straw…” (page 96)
Now, for your surprise! After suffering through me and my brick walls, you have definitely earned a sneak peek at the cover for my seventh novel! So once the thunderous applause has died down to an excited murmur, you can check it out here… http://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?...
On your way out please help yourself to a handful of M&M’s. I think we all need the chocolate after that touch of mortar and brick insanity.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
Chloe Stowe
September 12, 2011
Day Five... of the Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart
As Day Five comes roaring into town on the back of a mid-September Monday, I think a nice rosy shot of romance is called for.
I’m usually very careful with my more blatant shots of romance. You know, a little goes a long way, especially in the m/m world. Too much of it and it overwhelms the literary stew. The flavors and the unique tastes of each of the other ingredients can’t be compromised by such a strong spice or everything becomes a gooey mish-mash of daisies and cupids and hearts drawn on foggy windows… Honestly, not one of my men would be caught dead in such a fluffy pink casserole.
Don’t get me wrong. Fluffy pink casseroles have their places… just not usually in the mouths of alpha males.
Personally, I like to imbibe my meal with romance in a more roundabout way. You know, in the staging. If we continue with the culinary allusions (and heck who doesn’t love a good culinary allusion?), I guess you’d say that I like to pick out a nice romantic pot for my men and their juices to stew in. I try to come up with situations that when two strong testosterone-filled characters are put in them they have no choice but to bubble up into delicious love. That way all their manliness is still there for us to nibble on, to swirl around in our mouths and massage with our tongues…
Sorry. Culinary allusion was quickly slipping into naughtiness. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?...
Chapter Five: Gentle Obscenity
“As one low, slow song bled away into the next, the men silently stared into each other’s eyes as if searching out and finding their place in the other’s soul.” (page 79)
Yes, I do believe the mid-September Monday is a little more digestible with a helping of pink fluffy casserole. See? Not even Chloe Stowe can resist the taste of pure romance every once in a while.
On your way out today, please grab a flute of chilled champagne. Enjoy those tiny bubbles everyone and make your Monday merry!
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
Chloe Stowe
I’m usually very careful with my more blatant shots of romance. You know, a little goes a long way, especially in the m/m world. Too much of it and it overwhelms the literary stew. The flavors and the unique tastes of each of the other ingredients can’t be compromised by such a strong spice or everything becomes a gooey mish-mash of daisies and cupids and hearts drawn on foggy windows… Honestly, not one of my men would be caught dead in such a fluffy pink casserole.
Don’t get me wrong. Fluffy pink casseroles have their places… just not usually in the mouths of alpha males.
Personally, I like to imbibe my meal with romance in a more roundabout way. You know, in the staging. If we continue with the culinary allusions (and heck who doesn’t love a good culinary allusion?), I guess you’d say that I like to pick out a nice romantic pot for my men and their juices to stew in. I try to come up with situations that when two strong testosterone-filled characters are put in them they have no choice but to bubble up into delicious love. That way all their manliness is still there for us to nibble on, to swirl around in our mouths and massage with our tongues…
Sorry. Culinary allusion was quickly slipping into naughtiness. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?...
Chapter Five: Gentle Obscenity
“As one low, slow song bled away into the next, the men silently stared into each other’s eyes as if searching out and finding their place in the other’s soul.” (page 79)
Yes, I do believe the mid-September Monday is a little more digestible with a helping of pink fluffy casserole. See? Not even Chloe Stowe can resist the taste of pure romance every once in a while.
On your way out today, please grab a flute of chilled champagne. Enjoy those tiny bubbles everyone and make your Monday merry!
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
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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