Josh Lanyon's Blog, page 88
April 5, 2011
Snowball in Hell re-release
Yesterday saw the re-release Snowball in Hell. Snowball is a noirish novella set around Christmas time in 1943. It's one of my personal favorites as far as my work goes, and I'm delighted to see it get a second lease on life with Carina Press not least, because this enables me to write the series I was longing to write for these two. Look for more Doyle and Spain stories starting in 2012.
To celebrate, I'm blogging in a couple of places, and giving some cool stuff away in contests. The first place to stop and help me celebrate is over at Not The Usual Suspects. We're playing match the author to the first line of a classic piece of crime fiction.
And the second stop is over at the Carina Press blog. The game there is simply name two romantic pairings from my stories EXCLUDING Jake and Adrien, Chris and JX, and Elliot and Tucker. (Well, and it can't include Matt and Nathan either, for obvious reasons!
And if you've already bought the book, thanks so much!
April 4, 2011
[Just Joshin] Snowball in Hell now available
A quick note to let you know that Snowball in Hell, my WW2 noirish
mystery romance is now available through Carina Press. Also through
Amazon's Kindle, B&N Nook, and over at All Romance Ebooks. (And, NOT that
I'm keeping track, it's doing mighty well on the charts so far -- so thank you for that!)
It's 1943 and the world is at war. Journalist Nathan Doyle has just
returned home from North Africa --still recovering from wounds received in the
Western Desert Campaign--when he's asked to cover the murder of a society blackmailer.
Lt. Matthew Spain of the LAPD homicide squad hates the holidays since
the death of his beloved wife a few months earlier, and this year isn’t
looking much cheerier what with the threat of attack by the Japanese
and a high-profile homicide investigation. Matt likes Nathan; maybe too
much.
If only he didn’t suspect that Nathan had every reason to commit murder.
Spain proffered a pack of Camels. Nathan took one, and Spain
leaned forward to light it for him. Spain’s hands were large and
well-shaped. His lashes made dark crescents against his cheekbones. As
though he felt Nathan’s stare, he raised his eyes -- and Nathan
couldn’t look away.
He stared into Mathew Spain’s long-lashed hazel eyes, and he realized
with sudden terrible clarity that Spain knew all about him. Knew
exactly what he was. Knew it as surely as though Nathan’s ugly history
were an open file on his Spain’s tidy desk. In fact…Nathan glanced at
Spain’s desktop as though somehow the explanation could be found there,
because how did Spain know? How? Had it become that obvious? Like a
scarlet letter branded into his skin -- or the mark of Cain?
Hot blood flushed Nathan’s face, and just as quickly drained away,
leaving him feeling light-headed. He drew back, drawing sharply on his
cigarette. He sat very straight.
Spain flicked his lighter closed, put it away. He seemed to be in no
hurry.
“Why am I here?” Nathan asked, blowing out a stream of blue smoke. His
voice was just about steady.Spain watched him, eyes very direct between
his straight, black eyebrows.
“Why didn’t you mention you were with the Arlen kid on Saturday night?”
“I wasn’t with him,” Nathan said. “I ran into him at the Las Palmas
Club. We had a drink together.” He shrugged.
Spain leaned back in his swivel chair and rubbed his chin. “Listen, Sir
Galahad, it might interest you to know that the lady in question didn’t
mind throwing you to the wolves. She said it looked to her like you
were pretty angry with Philip yourself. Like you were mad enough to
kill.”
“She doesn’t know me very well.” Nathan studied the ashes on his
cigarette.
“Did she threaten to kill her husband and Pearl Jarvis?”
“She might have.” Nathan smiled wryly. “I wasn’t listening that
carefully to tell you the truth.”
“Why’s that?”
Nathan said slowly, “I went there for a few drinks and some laughs, but
after I got there…I realized that really wasn’t what I needed.”
“What did you need?” Spain asked -- and Nathan, for the life of him,
couldn’t think of how to answer.Neither of them spoke. Neither of them
looked away.
mystery romance is now available through Carina Press. Also through
Amazon's Kindle, B&N Nook, and over at All Romance Ebooks. (And, NOT that
I'm keeping track, it's doing mighty well on the charts so far -- so thank you for that!)
It's 1943 and the world is at war. Journalist Nathan Doyle has just
returned home from North Africa --still recovering from wounds received in the
Western Desert Campaign--when he's asked to cover the murder of a society blackmailer.
Lt. Matthew Spain of the LAPD homicide squad hates the holidays since
the death of his beloved wife a few months earlier, and this year isn’t
looking much cheerier what with the threat of attack by the Japanese
and a high-profile homicide investigation. Matt likes Nathan; maybe too
much.
If only he didn’t suspect that Nathan had every reason to commit murder.
Spain proffered a pack of Camels. Nathan took one, and Spain
leaned forward to light it for him. Spain’s hands were large and
well-shaped. His lashes made dark crescents against his cheekbones. As
though he felt Nathan’s stare, he raised his eyes -- and Nathan
couldn’t look away.
He stared into Mathew Spain’s long-lashed hazel eyes, and he realized
with sudden terrible clarity that Spain knew all about him. Knew
exactly what he was. Knew it as surely as though Nathan’s ugly history
were an open file on his Spain’s tidy desk. In fact…Nathan glanced at
Spain’s desktop as though somehow the explanation could be found there,
because how did Spain know? How? Had it become that obvious? Like a
scarlet letter branded into his skin -- or the mark of Cain?
Hot blood flushed Nathan’s face, and just as quickly drained away,
leaving him feeling light-headed. He drew back, drawing sharply on his
cigarette. He sat very straight.
Spain flicked his lighter closed, put it away. He seemed to be in no
hurry.
“Why am I here?” Nathan asked, blowing out a stream of blue smoke. His
voice was just about steady.Spain watched him, eyes very direct between
his straight, black eyebrows.
“Why didn’t you mention you were with the Arlen kid on Saturday night?”
“I wasn’t with him,” Nathan said. “I ran into him at the Las Palmas
Club. We had a drink together.” He shrugged.
Spain leaned back in his swivel chair and rubbed his chin. “Listen, Sir
Galahad, it might interest you to know that the lady in question didn’t
mind throwing you to the wolves. She said it looked to her like you
were pretty angry with Philip yourself. Like you were mad enough to
kill.”
“She doesn’t know me very well.” Nathan studied the ashes on his
cigarette.
“Did she threaten to kill her husband and Pearl Jarvis?”
“She might have.” Nathan smiled wryly. “I wasn’t listening that
carefully to tell you the truth.”
“Why’s that?”
Nathan said slowly, “I went there for a few drinks and some laughs, but
after I got there…I realized that really wasn’t what I needed.”
“What did you need?” Spain asked -- and Nathan, for the life of him,
couldn’t think of how to answer.Neither of them spoke. Neither of them
looked away.
Snowball in Hell now available
A quick note to let you know that Snowball in Hell, my WW2 norish mystery romance is now available through Carina Press. Also through Amazon's Kindle, B&N Nook, and over at All Romance Ebooks.
It's 1943 and the world is at war. Journalist Nathan Doyle has just returned home from North Africa--still recovering from wounds received in the Western Desert Campaign--when he's asked to cover the murder of a society blackmailer.
Lt. Matthew Spain of the LAPD homicide squad hates the holidays since the death of his beloved wife a few months earlier, and this year isn't looking much cheerier what with the threat of attack by the Japanese and a high-profile homicide investigation. Matt likes Nathan; maybe too much.
If only he didn't suspect that Nathan had every reason to commit murder.
He stared into Mathew Spain's long-lashed hazel eyes, and he realized with sudden terrible clarity that Spain knew all about him. Knew exactly what he was. Knew it as surely as though Nathan's ugly history were an open file on his Spain's tidy desk. In fact…Nathan glanced at Spain's desktop as though somehow the explanation could be found there, because how did Spain know? How? Had it become that obvious? Like a scarlet letter branded into his skin -- or the mark of Cain?
Hot blood flushed Nathan's face, and just as quickly drained away, leaving him feeling light-headed. He drew back, drawing sharply on his cigarette. He sat very straight.
Spain flicked his lighter closed, put it away. He seemed to be in no hurry.
"Why am I here?" Nathan asked, blowing out a stream of blue smoke. His voice was just about steady.Spain watched him, eyes very direct between his straight, black eyebrows.
"Why didn't you mention you were with the Arlen kid on Saturday night?"
"I wasn't with him," Nathan said. "I ran into him at the Las Palmas Club. We had a drink together." He shrugged.
Spain leaned back in his swivel chair and rubbed his chin. "Listen, Sir Galahad, it might interest you to know that the lady in question didn't mind throwing you to the wolves. She said it looked to her like you were pretty angry with Philip yourself. Like you were mad enough to kill."
"She doesn't know me very well." Nathan studied the ashes on his cigarette.
"Did she threaten to kill her husband and Pearl Jarvis?"
"She might have." Nathan smiled wryly. "I wasn't listening that carefully to tell you the truth."
"Why's that?"
Nathan said slowly, "I went there for a few drinks and some laughs, but after I got there…I realized that really wasn't what I needed."
"What did you need?" Spain asked -- and Nathan, for the life of him, couldn't think of how to answer.Neither of them spoke. Neither of them looked away.
It's 1943 and the world is at war. Journalist Nathan Doyle has just returned home from North Africa--still recovering from wounds received in the Western Desert Campaign--when he's asked to cover the murder of a society blackmailer.
Lt. Matthew Spain of the LAPD homicide squad hates the holidays since the death of his beloved wife a few months earlier, and this year isn't looking much cheerier what with the threat of attack by the Japanese and a high-profile homicide investigation. Matt likes Nathan; maybe too much.
If only he didn't suspect that Nathan had every reason to commit murder.
He stared into Mathew Spain's long-lashed hazel eyes, and he realized with sudden terrible clarity that Spain knew all about him. Knew exactly what he was. Knew it as surely as though Nathan's ugly history were an open file on his Spain's tidy desk. In fact…Nathan glanced at Spain's desktop as though somehow the explanation could be found there, because how did Spain know? How? Had it become that obvious? Like a scarlet letter branded into his skin -- or the mark of Cain?
Hot blood flushed Nathan's face, and just as quickly drained away, leaving him feeling light-headed. He drew back, drawing sharply on his cigarette. He sat very straight.
Spain flicked his lighter closed, put it away. He seemed to be in no hurry.
"Why am I here?" Nathan asked, blowing out a stream of blue smoke. His voice was just about steady.Spain watched him, eyes very direct between his straight, black eyebrows.
"Why didn't you mention you were with the Arlen kid on Saturday night?"
"I wasn't with him," Nathan said. "I ran into him at the Las Palmas Club. We had a drink together." He shrugged.
Spain leaned back in his swivel chair and rubbed his chin. "Listen, Sir Galahad, it might interest you to know that the lady in question didn't mind throwing you to the wolves. She said it looked to her like you were pretty angry with Philip yourself. Like you were mad enough to kill."
"She doesn't know me very well." Nathan studied the ashes on his cigarette.
"Did she threaten to kill her husband and Pearl Jarvis?"
"She might have." Nathan smiled wryly. "I wasn't listening that carefully to tell you the truth."
"Why's that?"
Nathan said slowly, "I went there for a few drinks and some laughs, but after I got there…I realized that really wasn't what I needed."
"What did you need?" Spain asked -- and Nathan, for the life of him, couldn't think of how to answer.Neither of them spoke. Neither of them looked away.
March 28, 2011
[Just Joshin] 20 Rules for Writing Detective Stories
Blogging at The Usual Suspects today on SS Van Dine's classic rules for
writing mysteries. Some things never change...
writing mysteries. Some things never change...
20 Rules for Writing Detective Stories
Blogging at The Usual Suspects today on SS Van Dine's classic rules for writing mysteries. Some things never change...
March 27, 2011
[Just Joshin] The Yabba Dabba Do Dah Contest
So to my great surprise I'm in one of the final rounds over at Dear
Author -- the Elite Eight. I'm the last m/m author and one of the last
ebook authors, I believe, and I'm up against a Berkley Sensation author
(NOT that there's anything wrong with that) who has been campaigning
tirelessly to win what is apparently the biggest deal of her young
life. ;-D
I would offer you my first born child if I had one, but...I don't. And
anyway, the truth is, I'd be making all kinds of stipulations that you
send him to college and make sure he gets proper religious upbringing
and exposure to plenty of cultural variety and vitamin D...anyway,
much, MUCH easier all around if I just say, I have nothing to bribe you
with, but if you would like to offer a vote of support for ebooks and
m/m fiction, it would be nice to at least make a respectable showing.
You needn't register or anything, you just click and vote and the
website registers you as having voted. And as I am currently getting my
butt kicked...well, a kick in the butt for me is a kick in the butt for
m/m and ebooks, and that's a shame.
So here's the place to go and vote. And if you can find those three
seconds in your heart of hearts, I thank you. And my first born child,
somewhere unrealized in the stars, also thanks you.
Author -- the Elite Eight. I'm the last m/m author and one of the last
ebook authors, I believe, and I'm up against a Berkley Sensation author
(NOT that there's anything wrong with that) who has been campaigning
tirelessly to win what is apparently the biggest deal of her young
life. ;-D
I would offer you my first born child if I had one, but...I don't. And
anyway, the truth is, I'd be making all kinds of stipulations that you
send him to college and make sure he gets proper religious upbringing
and exposure to plenty of cultural variety and vitamin D...anyway,
much, MUCH easier all around if I just say, I have nothing to bribe you
with, but if you would like to offer a vote of support for ebooks and
m/m fiction, it would be nice to at least make a respectable showing.
You needn't register or anything, you just click and vote and the
website registers you as having voted. And as I am currently getting my
butt kicked...well, a kick in the butt for me is a kick in the butt for
m/m and ebooks, and that's a shame.
So here's the place to go and vote. And if you can find those three
seconds in your heart of hearts, I thank you. And my first born child,
somewhere unrealized in the stars, also thanks you.
The Yabba Dabba Do Dah Contest
So to my great surprise I'm in one of the final rounds over at Dear Author -- the Elite Eight. I'm the last m/m author and one of the last ebook authors, I believe, and I'm up against a Berkley Sensation author (NOT that there's anything wrong with that) who has been campaigning tirelessly to win what is apparently the biggest deal of her young life. ;-D
I would offer you my first born child if I had one, but...I don't. And anyway, the truth is, I'd be making all kinds of stipulations that you send him to college and make sure he gets proper religious upbringing and exposure to plenty of cultural variety and vitamin D...anyway, much, MUCH easier all around if I just say, I have nothing to bribe you with, but if you would like to offer a vote of support for ebooks and m/m fiction, it would be nice to at least make a respectable showing.
You needn't register or anything, you just click and vote and the website registers you as having voted. And as I am currently getting my butt kicked...well, a kick in the butt for me is a kick in the butt for m/m and ebooks, and that's a shame.
So here's the place to go and vote. And if you can find those three seconds in your heart of hearts, I thank you. And my first born child, somewhere unrealized in the stars, also thanks you.
I would offer you my first born child if I had one, but...I don't. And anyway, the truth is, I'd be making all kinds of stipulations that you send him to college and make sure he gets proper religious upbringing and exposure to plenty of cultural variety and vitamin D...anyway, much, MUCH easier all around if I just say, I have nothing to bribe you with, but if you would like to offer a vote of support for ebooks and m/m fiction, it would be nice to at least make a respectable showing.
You needn't register or anything, you just click and vote and the website registers you as having voted. And as I am currently getting my butt kicked...well, a kick in the butt for me is a kick in the butt for m/m and ebooks, and that's a shame.
So here's the place to go and vote. And if you can find those three seconds in your heart of hearts, I thank you. And my first born child, somewhere unrealized in the stars, also thanks you.
[Just Joshin] Book Trailer for Snowball in Hell
I think authors are as bewildered as anyone else as far as what works
for promotion and what doesn't. I don't know that book trailers sell
books, but they're relaxing to work on. What's not to enjoy about
matching pictures to music and mulling over the important elements of
your story?
Anyway, I worked on three trailers yesterday, and this one is the only
one that seemed acceptable to me. (The SO looked at it and said, the
music should have been the music of the era, but I really like the
juxtaposition here -- and the soundclip, a bit of a song, by Muse, is
absolutely perfect for Nathan's state of mind.)
Anyway. Voila.
Not sure if this will show up on LJ or not, so you might have to pop
over to Blogger to view...
for promotion and what doesn't. I don't know that book trailers sell
books, but they're relaxing to work on. What's not to enjoy about
matching pictures to music and mulling over the important elements of
your story?
Anyway, I worked on three trailers yesterday, and this one is the only
one that seemed acceptable to me. (The SO looked at it and said, the
music should have been the music of the era, but I really like the
juxtaposition here -- and the soundclip, a bit of a song, by Muse, is
absolutely perfect for Nathan's state of mind.)
Anyway. Voila.
Not sure if this will show up on LJ or not, so you might have to pop
over to Blogger to view...
Book Trailer for Snowball in Hell
I think authors are as bewildered as anyone else as far as what works for promotion and what doesn't. I don't know that book trailers sell books, but they're relaxing to work on. What's not to enjoy about matching pictures to music and mulling over the important elements of your story?
Anyway, I worked on three trailers yesterday, and this one is the only one that seemed acceptable to me. (The SO looked at it and said, the music should have been the music of the era, but I really like the juxtaposition here -- and the soundclip, a bit of a song, by Muse, is absolutely perfect for Nathan's state of mind.)
Anyway. Voila.
Not sure if this will show up on LJ or not, so you might have to pop over to Blogger to view...
Anyway, I worked on three trailers yesterday, and this one is the only one that seemed acceptable to me. (The SO looked at it and said, the music should have been the music of the era, but I really like the juxtaposition here -- and the soundclip, a bit of a song, by Muse, is absolutely perfect for Nathan's state of mind.)
Anyway. Voila.
Not sure if this will show up on LJ or not, so you might have to pop over to Blogger to view...
March 24, 2011
[Just Joshin] Notes on GhosTV
I've been trying to read more. For a while there I was only writing or
doing manuscript evaluations, and that's not exactly refilling the
creative well. I mean, we generally decide we want to be writers based
on our love of reading. And yet reading is one of the first things that
gets crossed off the list once one becomes a successful writer and has
less and less free time.
So we've started a monthly reading challenge over at my Goodreads
group. First up, it's Rowan Speedwell's Finding Zach. I read that today
-- I was supposed to be writing, working on Mummy Dearest, which has a
bit of fleshing in to do, but...that's kind of the cool thing about
this new schedule. A work day can be anything from all the promo blogs
I have due for next months' releases, or it could be working on a book
trailer, or it could be writing. It just depends because all these
things need to happen this month.
latest in Jordan's PsyCop series.
To start with, I love the little graphic on the contents page. But
that's neither here nor there.
Story begins deep in POV, clean, tight writing and...we're in. I'm
hooked. Jordan knows how to write and she knows how to tell a story.
Not always the same thing, but when those two synchronize, it's such a
pleasure to be a reader.
I've been thinking a lot about dialog lately and how many m/m writers
settle for cliches instead of genuine, interesting dialog that
establishes character or moves the plot along or simply amuses and
entertains. It's got to be one of the hardest things to do well. I hear
so many writers talking about how they love writing dialog and then
they offer some bits of their own as proof and usually the dialog is
just...not very good. The fact is, most writers aren't very good at
dialog. Most writers write place-keeping dialog and that's pretty much
it. Truly good dialog is so easy to take for granted. It's one of those
things you only notice by its absence. Anyway, Jordan does dialog very
well.
All the dialog. Not just the dialog between Vic and Jacob, but
the dialog between all the characters. It's not filler. It's not cliche
or someone's painful idea of how men talk to each other (apparently
forgetting years of listening to men -- and other people -- talking to
each other).
I think the key is to allow characters to have interesting
conversations about stuff other than Our Relationship. And of course
that's one of the big advantages of writing mystery or crime or
adventure. It gives the characters something interesting to talk about.
And Jordan has plot. I do so dearly love it when someone can write an
actual plot that has more than two guys waltzing around each other.
She's funny when she intends to be, and her sex scenes are hot,
and...it's just a relief to read her work.
And this is only page 16. :-D
doing manuscript evaluations, and that's not exactly refilling the
creative well. I mean, we generally decide we want to be writers based
on our love of reading. And yet reading is one of the first things that
gets crossed off the list once one becomes a successful writer and has
less and less free time.
So we've started a monthly reading challenge over at my Goodreads
group. First up, it's Rowan Speedwell's Finding Zach. I read that today
-- I was supposed to be writing, working on Mummy Dearest, which has a
bit of fleshing in to do, but...that's kind of the cool thing about
this new schedule. A work day can be anything from all the promo blogs
I have due for next months' releases, or it could be working on a book
trailer, or it could be writing. It just depends because all these
things need to happen this month.
latest in Jordan's PsyCop series.
To start with, I love the little graphic on the contents page. But
that's neither here nor there.
Story begins deep in POV, clean, tight writing and...we're in. I'm
hooked. Jordan knows how to write and she knows how to tell a story.
Not always the same thing, but when those two synchronize, it's such a
pleasure to be a reader.
I've been thinking a lot about dialog lately and how many m/m writers
settle for cliches instead of genuine, interesting dialog that
establishes character or moves the plot along or simply amuses and
entertains. It's got to be one of the hardest things to do well. I hear
so many writers talking about how they love writing dialog and then
they offer some bits of their own as proof and usually the dialog is
just...not very good. The fact is, most writers aren't very good at
dialog. Most writers write place-keeping dialog and that's pretty much
it. Truly good dialog is so easy to take for granted. It's one of those
things you only notice by its absence. Anyway, Jordan does dialog very
well.
All the dialog. Not just the dialog between Vic and Jacob, but
the dialog between all the characters. It's not filler. It's not cliche
or someone's painful idea of how men talk to each other (apparently
forgetting years of listening to men -- and other people -- talking to
each other).
I think the key is to allow characters to have interesting
conversations about stuff other than Our Relationship. And of course
that's one of the big advantages of writing mystery or crime or
adventure. It gives the characters something interesting to talk about.
And Jordan has plot. I do so dearly love it when someone can write an
actual plot that has more than two guys waltzing around each other.
She's funny when she intends to be, and her sex scenes are hot,
and...it's just a relief to read her work.
And this is only page 16. :-D
