Christa Tomlinson's Blog, page 7

Embracing Diversity in M/M Romance

Whew! These past few weeks in the romance world – or #Romancelandia as we call it on Twitter – have been a doozy. Let’s recap.

With the Santino Hassell issue, the m/m community nearly caved in on itself.

After Cole McCade revealed Sarah Lyons’ comments about not putting black people on covers our community exploded with disbelief at the blatant racism.

The third issue is the fact that there hasn’t been a single Black winner of the RWA Rita awards in the entire existence of the organization. The RWA put out a statement on this, and it spawned lots of conversation on the difficulties authors of color face in publishing.

For this third issue, there hasn’t been much discussion in the m/m community. I’ll admit that I’m not on Facebook much – Twitter is more my jam. But when I logged on I expected to see a lot of discussion on the topic, just as I did with SH and Lyons. Instead, I’ve only seen a few posts from authors like Harper Miller, LaQuette, and Sharita Lira scattered about.

This concerns me. I wonder, does the m/m community think this issue doesn’t affect it, and that’s why there has been near silence on the topic? As we can see from the Sara Lyons emails it absolutely is a thing. Still not sure what that thing is? Let me state it plainly. Authors of Color (AOC) and especially authors of color writing characters of color are at a disadvantage in publishing.

1) We don’t win (often) awards.
2) We’re not heavily promoted. (A prime example is the way black people went bat shit over Black Panther. We don’t often get the chance to be the next Big Thing like Twilight, Fifty Shades and Game of Thrones)
3) We’re not squeeed over by readers and review blogs as much as white authors/characters.
4) Big Five publishers (and smaller pubs as well) don’t often publish us. The Ripped Bodice’s Diversity Report has the numbers on that.
5) We suffer from There Can Only Be One mentality. With this, readers think I already read a black historical I don’t need to read another because it will be the same. Or, all the visibility goes to a few authors of color, elevating them to great popularity while the majority of the rest are ignored.
 
How does this happen? Well, statements like the ones below are reasons why our genre is struggling with diversity.

“I can’t relate to those characters.”
This comment has been said so often that I’m just going to parrot back the same response that’s always given. If you can relate to vampires, meerkat shifters, omega men with slick butts, or hell even a SWAT team full of gay D/s dudes *cough-cough*, you can relate to people with skin that’s different from yours. I assure you, we’re not aliens. And even aliens are accepted by readers in sci-fi romance.

“I don’t want to read about race problems.”
Not every book featuring people of color (POC) is about race. Some are. But please don’t make that assumption just because there’s brown skin on the cover. And even if racism is mentioned what’s the big deal? We read about other unpleasant topics like domestic violence and gay youth being kicked out of the home, and (hopefully) learn from them. Why can’t racial issues receive that same consideration?

“It should be about the quality of the book. Not the race of the author or characters.”
This comment is like nails on a chalkboard to me. Or actually a big fat dog whistle. Because what it’s really saying is that diverse authors can’t bring the quality and therefore shouldn’t be put up for awards, promoted, etc. Otherwise, why mention quality whenever we discuss including books by authors of color?

The majority of us in the m/m community are women. I’m not saying it’s a good thing or a bad thing or ignoring the many transgender men and women and nonbinary people – it’s just a thing. So that means most of us are already reading and writing outside of ourselves. If we can all put ourselves in the headspace to read about two men falling in love, I don’t see why white readers can’t read about people of color – and why non-black people of color can’t read about black characters and so on. Because I, and pretty much every other person of color, have been reading white characters since we first picked up books.

I wrote in a previous blog post about how I didn’t see a black character in a romance novel until I was in high school. Not once have I ever said – I just can’t read this because I can’t relate to this blonde heroine and her blue-eyed lover. We’re expected to read outside of ourselves. All we’re asking is for everyone else to return the favor. How can you return that favor? I’ve got some action items!

Don’t say, “I don’t see color. I just want the story.” I know on the surface this seems like an open-minded way of thinking. But not seeing color erases us. We want to be seen and have our differences acknowledged, accepted and embraced!

And not seeing color often means that we just aren’t seen. Which means you’re going to have to look for us. Don't believe me? Go to Amazon and check out the Top 100 for Gay romance. In that entire bunch, there's one book with a black character on it. You get the same result just typing in gay romance or m/m romance into the search bar. If we’re not sought out, it’s easy to end up with a homogenous book shelf – even when you are open to reading diversely. So take a tiny step. When you type into the search bar on Amazon, add a word to your search. Instead of typing gay contemporary romance try multicultural gay contemporary romance.

Do rec us to your friends and bloggers and ask for us in libraries and bookstores.

Don’t go into our stories expecting to be taught about culture. A Chinese American author writing about a Chinese American hero doesn’t necessarily want to tell the story of their culture. They just might want to write about a Chinese American guy who is at the library, has a meet cute with a quiet, yet well-built branch manager and falls in love. And that’s okay. Our romance novels don’t have to be culture guides. There’s uh… culture guides for that.

Do use context or even hit up Google if there are mentions of things you’re not familiar with. For example, I used to read the heck out of Highland romances. But I had no clue what haggis was and I had to look it up. The word Sassenach drove me crazy because before Google, I couldn’t figure out exactly what it meant. I knew who it referred to, but I thought there might be more meaning behind it since it was always used as an insult.

I’m sure many of you had to look up facts about garderobes for historicals or pick up on the basics of game play for hockey romances. If we can do that for predominantly white stories, we can extend the same courtesy to diverse romance. For example, in my upcoming release In His Corner (hell yeah I’m self-promoting) I write about Brandon’s curly, easily tangled 4B hair. When you get to that scene, just roll with it. Don’t toss it aside because it’s different from your experience.

Don’t assume that there just aren’t any authors of color out there writing m/m romance. Me, my brown face, and the brown faces of many authors I’ve connected with assure you that this isn’t true.

Do use sources like Queer in Color and Women of Color in Romance to find new books to try.

Do ask for recs. The next time you’re in the MM Book Rec group looking for a hurt/comfort romance, ask if there are any featuring characters of color. Or maybe even say Hey, I really like Susan Author. Are there any Authors of Color who have books with tropes and settings like hers? The first couple of times you might get crickets for your response. But as we expand our reading horizons we’ll start having more recs to share.

Don’t refuse to pick up a book because the character’s name is unfamiliar to you, like D’Marcus or Takashi (sorry, my Voltron is showing). A lot of us learned to pronounce Daenerys Targaryen. We can give Rhashan a chance too.

Do show a little variety in the covers/models you promote. For example, if you’re a blogger and you’ve got a sweet header with multiple covers and/or couples but all of them are white? It makes me hesitate to submit a book with multicultural characters to you. Putting up a hot dude with brown skin is like rolling out the welcome mat to authors like me. It lets us know that our books will be welcome and won’t be discounted out of hand or unfairly judged because of the color of the characters’ skin.

In addition to that, if you have one of those shout out days going on like Sexy Saturday or Hot Guy Wednesday, mix it up and put some brown folks in there. If week after week, each of your hot guys is white, that tells me that you don’t find men of color attractive, deserving of love, or worthy of being your hero’s muse. That might not actually be true, but all I can go by is what you demonstrate to me.

Need some help finding Hot Guys of Color? Poke Atom Yang and ask if you can join his Atom’s Asian Hotties Facebook group. Cuz good lord there are some beautiful men posted in there. Or, go to Pinterest and type in sexy black men. You’ll get a plethora of gorgeous results. (Just uh… maybe try not to refer to them as chocolate or other foods. It’s kind of gross.) 
Listen. I know this is hard. None of us wants to be the bad guy in our own story. And realizing that as either an author or a reader/reviewer/blogger you’ve had thoughts or actions or even inaction that have left authors and characters of color out in the cold can make you feel shitty – like you’re the bad guy. And no one likes that feeling. But we’ve got to suck it up and face what makes us uncomfortable.

For example, when I was younger, I was ignorant and held the belief that I wasn’t attracted to Asian men. Now that I’m older I know that was racist, and what I actually wasn’t attracted to was the media portrayal of Asian men: nerdy, sexless caricatures with over the top accents. Now that I’ve broadened my worldview, I’m looking at these guys and… *sweats* My old racist belief has definitely been kicked to the curb.
Hell, I’m a black woman and even I had thoughts that books by/about black people weren’t of good quality. Because that’s what I was taught – mostly indirectly by publishing. I had to unlearn that. It was mentally unpleasant to do, because I felt bad for the way I’d erroneously judged many authors.

Now this last step is expert level. I’m talking black belt in Being a Diversity Ally. If you’ve said hold my purse! and gone to bat to defend m/m romance from evil heterosexual bigots, or you’ve taken off your earrings and fought against literature snobs who dissed romance as a low brow genre, this final step is for you. Put some tape on your wrists, Vaseline on your face and (metaphorically) square up for us.

When you see someone spouting ignorance like black women don’t read/write romance, or all black romances are ghetto/poor quality, or whatever nonsense is being spewed – Say Something. Let them know their beliefs are baseless and ignorant. Authors of color fight for other causes all the time, do us a solid and help us with ours. We need the whole squad ready in order to embrace diversity in the m/m community. TLDR: Buy, Promote, Read Books by Authors of Color Featuring Characters of Color. =)

Thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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In His Corner – Champions of Desire Book 2 – is now available for Pre-Order.
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In His Corner Cover Reveal & Giveaway!

It's here! It's here! The cover for In His Corner, Book Two in the Champions of Desire series, is ready for your viewing pleasure. I'm dying to show it to you, so without further ado...
Gorgeous isn't it? Tre and Brandon were brought to life by Melody Simmons at BookCoversCre8tive.com. When you're finished eyeing the pretty, keep reading because I have .99 Pre-Order Links, an excerpt and giveaway!
Available April 10th
.99 Pre-Order Links
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Tré Montgomery loves working with his best friend, Brandon Wilkes. As a professional wrestling tag team, they wow crowds across the country. While Tré craves more from his talented and gorgeous partner, life taught him that confessing his feelings threatens not only friendships, but careers.

Brandon is one of the best when it comes to connecting with an audience of thousands. But when he tries to connect with the only man he truly wants, that ability fizzles out. Hiding his true desires behind a front of playful teasing, he hopes Tré will either catch on or make it clear he’s not interested.

When subtly fails, Brandon makes a decision that threatens to tear his relationship with Tré apart. If they want to stay together, both men will have to bring the confidence they display in the ring into their private lives. Will they brave the risks to go from tag team partners to lovers? Or is their shot at love destined to go down for the count?
Excerpt
Later that night, Tré waited in the backstage area of the New Orleans arena with Brandon. Their tag match against The Black River Boys was up in a few minutes. As always, he and Brandon were dressed in nearly identical outfits. They both wore candy apple red trunks with Pittsburgh Power Machine in shiny black and silver lettering across the ass. Their black sleeveless hoodies had their individual names on the back, with PPM in shimmering red and silver stitched over the left breast. The only difference in gear was their footwear. Tré wore traditional calf-high lace-up boots, while Brandon preferred knee-length kick pads over wrestling shoes.

Tré had seen Brandon in their brief wrestling costume hundreds of times over the three years they’d tagged together. But he still admired how amazing his partner looked. His bare arms glistened with oil under the lights, the muscles in his biceps sharp and defined. And his thighs… Tré stared, watching the muscles flex under smooth skin as Brandon went through his pre-match stretches. His feet spread wide, Brandon bent at the waist, arms extended along his legs to grip his ankles, and ass up in the air. Tré didn’t outwardly react to the unintentionally provocative pose, but in his head, it was basically a parade of panting, drooling heart-eye gifs.

He didn’t want to perv on his partner. So, while he might look when Brandon didn’t see him, he’d never do or say anything to make him uncomfortable. And that was why he could never speak up about his feelings for his friend. Coming on to him could jeopardize their friendship, and Tré didn’t want that. He’d rather hide his attraction than do anything to risk losing Brandon in his work and personal life.
Tré was still staring when Brandon straightened and looked over his shoulder. He grinned when he met Tré’s eye.

“Ready?”

Embarrassed heat crawled up Tré’s neck. “Yep. Let’s do it.” He looked away after answering and tugged his hood up to hide in case his expression betrayed that embarrassment. His face heated further when he caught sight of Chance watching him.

“Smooth,” Chance teased with a grin and a thumbs up.

Tré responded by giving his friend the middle finger. 

Holding back a laugh, Chance pointed at the sound guy to queue up their music, then gave Tré and Brandon the signal to go out.
Giveaway
I have In His Corner swag to giveaway! To enter, simply comment on this blog post. Three winners will be randomly selected to receive an In His Corner cover art card and button! Contest ends March 28th 12 a.m. CST. Winners will be notified on this post. Good luck!
Thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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Champions of Desire Book 1: Showing Him the Ropes !
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Steak & BJ Day - A Logan & Clay Short

This is a work of fiction, written by Christa Tomlinson and protected by U.S. Copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, copied, or published without the express written permission of Christa Tomlinson.
Logan walked up the stairs to Clay’s loft apartment, eager to see his boyfriend. Of course, he was always happy to see Clay but tonight Logan was curious. When Clay noticed on the HPD SWAT schedule that they were on a day shift for this Friday, his blue eyes had lit up with excitement.
               
“Are you sure we’re not working a late night on March fourteenth?” he’d asked.

Logan had assured him they weren’t. Clay had whooped excitedly but didn’t say what he was so happy about. Logan asked him what was so special about that day, but Clay wouldn’t tell him no matter how many times he pressed. Now that March fourteenth was here, Logan would finally have his curiosity satisfied. Reaching Clay’s door, Logan knocked and waited.  on the delicious smell of well-seasoned meat coming from the apartment. A few seconds later, Clay opened the door. And Logan’s eyes almost fell out of his head. He always thought his boyfriend looked good, but tonight… tonight he looked amazing.

Clay’s short black hair lay in soft smooth waves. His jawline was clean shaven as usual and his blue eyes sparkled mischievously. His skin was already starting to show the beginnings of a tan and gleamed warm and golden in the soft light of his apartment. And there was a lot of that skin on display. Because from the looks of it Clay was naked save for two items. The dog tags around his neck that proclaimed he was Logan’s submissive. And a short, white apron. That was it.
               
“Happy Steak and Blowjob day!”
               
Logan stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him, still taking in his boyfriend’s mostly naked body. “Happy what?”
               
Clay grinned. “Steak and Blowjob Day.”
               
Logan tore his eyes away from his lover’s bare thighs. “Did you just make up a holiday?”
               
“I wish. Then maybe I could get royalties from the t-shirts or something. No, I don’t know who made it up. It’s the counterpart to Valentine’s day, where people return the favor of their significant others going all out with dinner and presents.” Clay grinned again and waved the metal tongs that Logan just now realized he was holding. “I figure since I’m the submissive I qualify for participation.”
               
Logan shook his head at his sub. Clay always managed to surprise him. “Are you completely naked under that apron?”
               
Clay gave him a wicked look from beneath his lashes. “Maybe.” Clay took three taunting backwards steps before he turned to walk into the kitchen.
               
And Logan saw him from the back. There was nothing but smooth, naked skin, except for the apron tie draped around his waist. “Christ. You are naked under there.” Logan followed his lover, his eyes locked on the sweetly rounded ass in front of him. When Clay stopped at the stove Logan walked up behind him to whisper in his ear. “Aren’t you afraid something will splatter and burn your bare skin?”
               
Clay looked at him over his shoulder. “No. Because I know you’ll kiss it and make it better.”          
              
Logan groaned softly. “You know I would.” He ran a palm over Clay’s shoulder. “I want to kiss and touch you everywhere.” Logan bent to kiss his lover’s mouth. As always, Clay submitted and opened up for him. Logan took advantage, sliding his tongue in to tangle with Clays, and sucking at his full bottom lip.
               
Clay pulled away, his lips deliciously swollen and red from their kiss. “Food now. Kissing and blowjobs later.”
               
Logan laughed and let Clay turn back to the stove. “So, what are you making me?”
               
“Steak, baked potatoes, broccoli and wild rice. French bread. And chocolate mousse for dessert.”
               
Logan was impressed. “You really went all out.”
               
“Yep. And I’m even going to eat some of everything myself. But you have to promise to help me work it off later.”
               
Logan was again distracted by all the naked skin in front of him. He trailed his fingers down Clay’s spine until he reached the curve of his ass, then caressed and squeezed the smooth flesh under his palm. He thought his sub looked perfect but he’d do whatever Clay wanted to keep him happy. “I’ll help you exercise. Are we talking horizontal or vertical?”
               
Clay laughed and looked over his shoulder again. “Dom’s choice.”
               
Logan squeezed Clay’s ass again until Clay swatted his hand away.
               
“Go sit down. Everything’s ready.”
               
Logan went over to Clay’s small dinette set and sat down. He poured himself a glass of the red wine waiting on the table and opened a bottle of root beer for Clay, while Clay fixed their plates and brought everything over.  Clay took a seat, but before he was settled he jerked forward with his eyes wide.
               
“What did you forget something?” Logan asked.
               
“No. Just uh… this metal chair is really cold on my butt.”
               
Logan smiled as he watched Clay gingerly ease onto the seat.  “Guess that’s a hazard of naked dinner night.”
               
Clay stuck his tongue out at him. He got comfortable and they both settled in to enjoy the dinner.

****
Twenty minutes later, Logan sat back with a well-satisfied sigh. “That was excellent, baby. Thank you.”
               
Clay finished his soda. “You’re welcome.” He wiped his fingers on a napkin and got up from the table and walked over to him. “The mousse should probably set a little while longer.”
               
Logan looked up into teasing blue eyes. “Is that right?”
               
Clay nodded.  “Yep. So, I was thinking we could move on to the second half of this holiday while it does.”
               
He held his hand out and Logan took it, allowing Clay to pull him up from his chair. Logan was normally the one in charge in their relationship, but for this night he was happy to let Clay take the lead. He followed along as Clay headed into the living room and let his boyfriend push him into the big overstuffed arm chair. Logan got comfortable, his arms braced on the rests while Clay kneeled at his feet.
               
“How do you always manage to look so calm and in control, even when you’re about to get your dick sucked?”
               
Logan smiled slightly but didn’t answer Clay’s question. “Take that apron off.”
               
Clay gave him a sheepish grin. “I forgot,” he said as he removed the apron and tossed it aside.

Logan set his feet apart so his sub could slide in between his legs. Clay reached out to unzip his jeans, slipping his fingers past denim and cotton to touch Logan’s shaft. Clay stroked him once, then tugged his clothes down past his hips. As Logan raised his hips to help, he looked down to where Clay was trailing his fingers up and down his shaft. The rest of him might look calm and in control, but his cock was definitely eager, already hard and slick at the tip.

Clay moaned softly and leaned in. He licked with just the tip of his tongue, circling it lightly over the head. Logan’s cock, apparently still trying to show how eager it was, jerked forward at the touch. Clay gave him a wicked smile then bent and sucked him fully into his mouth.
               
Logan groaned as Clay took him straight down to the base of his cock in one go. He relaxed even further into the chair and palmed the back of Clay’s head to pull him closer. Clay moaned as he slid forward, the sound vibrating along Logan’s shaft as Clay sucked him deep and slow. Logan’s eyes grew heavy lidded from the pleasure coursing through him, but he kept them on his lover. He watched as Clay sucked him, lips sliding up and down his shaft, dark lashes down and hiding the beauty of his blue eyes.
               
After a few moments, Logan reached out and cupped the side of Clay’s face. When his sub looked up at him, Logan didn’t have to say anything.  read him and knew that Logan wanted him to keep his eyes on him. Their eyes stayed locked as Clay sucked at his cock, licking down to tongue the heavy weight of his balls. Clay teased his tongue back up his shaft, flicking lightly at that spot that made intensely delicious sensations of pleasure radiate throughout his body. Logan tightened his fingers in Clay’s hair.
               
“You’re so good baby.  So perfect, on your knees serving your Dom.” A flush tinted Clay’s cheeks. Logan’s words of praise pleased his submissive. He gave him more, telling how good he made him feel, how much he loved feeling his perfect mouth on his cock. Clay moaned and braced a palm on Logan’s thigh. He sucked faster, taking Logan’s cock deep into his mouth again and again. Logan hissed as his body tightened. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me come.”
               
Clay’s fingers dug into his skin. He concentrated on sucking just the tip of his cock while he worked the rest of his shaft with his hand. A groan rumbled in Logan’s chest, his hips thrusting forward as he gripped the sides of the chair. His spine tingled. His cock throbbed in Clay’s mouth. Clay squeezed him in his fist and Logan lost it. He shouted his lover’s name, his body going rigid as his climax rushed through him. Clay moaned low in his throat when Logan came in his mouth. And he kept sucking, swallowing every drop.
               
Finally, after what seemed like an endless stream of powerful pleasure, Logan relaxed and released his grip on Clay’s hair. Clay let his shaft go and rested a cheek against his thigh, smiling up at him. After taking in one deep breath, Logan reached down to pull his sub up to straddle his lap.
               
“I love you. And that was wonderful. The steak. The blow job. All of it.”
               
“I love you too. And I’m glad you liked it.” The teasing sparkle returned to his eyes. “But I have a confession. I didn’t make the food. It’s from Isabelle’s.”
               
Logan laughed and smacked his sub on the ass. “I know you didn’t cook any of that. Pouring a bowl of cereal is the highlight of the culinary experience I’ve seen from you.”
               
Clay looked indignant. “Hey! It takes skill to get the perfect cereal to milk ratio.”
               
Logan shook his head and tugged Clay down into a kiss. “You’re such a brat. But that’s why I love you.”
               
Clay smiled against his mouth. “Happy Steak and Blowjob Day, Sir.”
Thank you for reading! You can check out the rest of Logan and Clay's story on
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Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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Take Care of Your Body When Writing

Writing is awesome. I love it. I get to sit at my desk and make up stories and have snacks and coffee while I work. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Life as a writer can be hard on our health and bodies, unless we’re proactive in taking care of ourselves.

So far, I’ve been fairly poor at this. I’d like to improve my health and thought I’d share with you a few steps I plan to take. Of course, this isn’t to be considered as medical advice, and you should definitely consult with your health professional. I am only sharing my own (able-bodied) experiences.

Movement
The more I write, the more I weigh. It’s pretty easy to see why. Writing is, for the most part, a sedentary career. Currently, I have what I fondly refer to as Author’s Butt – meaning it’s big. In my case, it’s my own fault for slacking off in my physical activity and exercise.

What can I do to help combat this? Get up and move! I’m building the habit of writing in forty-five minute increments. After that I get up and move around for a few minutes. Sometimes I take the dogs out with me to check the mail. Sometimes I’ll go and fold a load of laundry and put it away. But most times I have a little dance party. I’ll put on a favorite song, and booty pop to it for a few minutes. It helps get the blood flowing.

I also go for a walk during my lunch break. And I’m working exercise into my schedule. I don’t have room for a treadmill desk in my apartment, but I’ve heard great things from those who use one. That might be something I look into one day. Just do what you can to get your body moving throughout the day.

Eye Health
For the past few months, I really thought I needed glasses. On some days my vision would be so blurry it was hard to see, and I kept getting headaches. I went to the doctor for an eye exam and to my surprise she told me I didn’t need glasses. All of my problems seemed to be from eye strain. Which means I need to take better care of my eyes since I’m on the computer all day. A few tips:

1) Drink water and stay hydrated!

2) Use eye drops to keep eyes moisturized. Dry eyes were a problem for me with my little space heater blowing hot hair in my face during Houston’s admittedly short cold season.

3) Wear tinted computer glasses. I’ve owned a pair of these for several years and they definitely help me. They cut back on the glare from the computer screen. On days I don’t wear them, I tend to be prone to squinting and headaches.
4) Set up the computer screen for optimal viewing. Make sure it’s at a height so that you don’t have to strain your neck looking either up or down to see it. I’ve got my monitor set on top of stacked Buffy graphic novels because it was so low I hurt my neck looking down all day. I’ve also adjusted the brightness so that it’s comfortable for my eyes. And as an alternative to the computer glasses, anti-glare screen covers are great.

5) Take breaks from the computer. A good rule of thumb seems to be looking away from the computer every twenty minutes and focusing on something off in the distance for twenty seconds.

6) Get off the computer when tired! There have been far too many nights I’ve pushed myself staying up late into the night to write and my tired eyes were never happy about it.

If you’re having any issues with your vision, be sure to start with an eye exam to rule out other possible causes.

Hands
I won’t even pretend to know anything about serious issues like Carpal Tunnel. But I do know that healthy hands are important for writers! Wrists rests for both the keyboard and mouse pad are great for keeping your hands at angles that don’t strain your wrists as you type. You can also do wrist exercises to keep them strong and limber. A Google search will lead you to a few like ball gripping (heh-heh), flexing, etc.

Back
TAKE CARE OF YOUR BACK. This is so important. Twice I’ve strained my back writing while sitting in kooky positions. Once I ended up having to write laying on the floor for nearly a week the pain was so bad.

If possible, try not to write hunched over sitting on the floor, or slouched over to the side in an uncomfortable chair. The side slouch is what got me. Yowza those spasms were painful! An ergonomic chair with arm rests is probably the best option. But those aren’t cheap and we aren’t made of money.

You can try a slip on back rest made to go over the back of your chair. I've seen them for about $20-$25. Or do whatever works best for you, whether that’s a rolled up towel or pillow stuffed behind your back. The point is to be sure you are sitting in a position that’s good for your back and helps you have good posture.
Another option is to have a standing desk. Since those aren’t always a possibility for everyone due to cost or space, there’s cool lectern-type portable setups. I’ve had one on my wish list forever and eventually I’m going to go ahead and purchase it. And of course, don’t forget to get up and move throughout the day to help keep your back and backside muscles active.
Those are my tips! A few things that might help to keep our bodies healthy as we create stories for our readers to enjoy. Thanks for reading!

Love,
Christa
Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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Showing Him the Ropes is now available with a brand new cover!
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Tips for Healthy Writing

Writing is awesome. I love it. I get to sit at my desk and make up stories and have snacks and coffee while I work. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Life as a writer can be hard on our health and bodies, unless we’re proactive in taking care of ourselves.

So far, I’ve been fairly poor at this. I’d like to improve my health and thought I’d share with you a few steps I plan to take. Of course, this isn’t to be considered as medical advice, and you should definitely consult with your health professional. I am only sharing my own (able-bodied) experiences.

Movement
The more I write, the more I weigh. It’s pretty easy to see why. Writing is, for the most part, a sedentary career. Currently, I have what I fondly refer to as Author’s Butt – meaning it’s big. In my case, it’s my own fault for slacking off in my physical activity and exercise.

What can I do to help combat this? Get up and move! I’m building the habit of writing in forty-five minute increments. After that I get up and move around for a few minutes. Sometimes I take the dogs out with me to check the mail. Sometimes I’ll go and fold a load of laundry and put it away. But most times I have a little dance party. I’ll put on a favorite song, and booty pop to it for a few minutes. It helps get the blood flowing.

I also go for a walk during my lunch break. And I’m working exercise into my schedule. I don’t have room for a treadmill desk in my apartment, but I’ve heard great things from those who use one. That might be something I look into one day. Just do what you can to get your body moving throughout the day.

Eye Health
For the past few months, I really thought I needed glasses. On some days my vision would be so blurry it was hard to see, and I kept getting headaches. I went to the doctor for an eye exam and to my surprise she told me I didn’t need glasses. All of my problems seemed to be from eye strain. Which means I need to take better care of my eyes since I’m on the computer all day. A few tips:

1) Drink water and stay hydrated!

2) Use eye drops to keep eyes moisturized. Dry eyes were a problem for me with my little space heater blowing hot hair in my face during Houston’s admittedly short cold season.

3) Wear tinted computer glasses. I’ve owned a pair of these for several years and they definitely help me. They cut back on the glare from the computer screen. On days I don’t wear them, I tend to be prone to squinting and headaches.
4) Set up the computer screen for optimal viewing. Make sure it’s at a height so that you don’t have to strain your neck looking either up or down to see it. I’ve got my monitor set on top of stacked Buffy graphic novels because it was so low I hurt my neck looking down all day. I’ve also adjusted the brightness so that it’s comfortable for my eyes. And as an alternative to the computer glasses, anti-glare screen covers are great.

5) Take breaks from the computer. A good rule of thumb seems to be looking away from the computer every twenty minutes and focusing on something off in the distance for twenty seconds.

6) Get off the computer when tired! There have been far too many nights I’ve pushed myself staying up late into the night to write and my tired eyes were never happy about it.

If you’re having any issues with your vision, be sure to start with an eye exam to rule out other possible causes.

Hands
I won’t even pretend to know anything about serious issues like Carpal Tunnel. But I do know that healthy hands are important for writers! Wrists rests for both the keyboard and mouse pad are great for keeping your hands at angles that don’t strain your wrists as you type. You can also do wrist exercises to keep them strong and limber. A Google search will lead you to a few like ball gripping (heh-heh), flexing, etc.

Back
TAKE CARE OF YOUR BACK. This is so important. Twice I’ve strained my back writing while sitting in kooky positions. Once I ended up having to write laying on the floor for nearly a week the pain was so bad.

If possible, try not to write hunched over sitting on the floor, or slouched over to the side in an uncomfortable chair. The side slouch is what got me. Yowza those spasms were painful! An ergonomic chair with arm rests is probably the best option. But those aren’t cheap and we aren’t made of money.

You can try a slip on back rest made to go over the back of your chair. I've seen them for about $20-$25. Or do whatever works best for you, whether that’s a rolled up towel or pillow stuffed behind your back. The point is to be sure you are sitting in a position that’s good for your back and helps you have good posture.
Another option is to have a standing desk. Since those aren’t always a possibility for everyone due to cost or space, there’s cool lectern-type portable setups. I’ve had one on my wish list forever and eventually I’m going to go ahead and purchase it. And of course, don’t forget to get up and move throughout the day to help keep your back and backside muscles active.
Those are my tips! A few things that might help to keep our bodies healthy as we create stories for our readers to enjoy. Thanks for reading!

Love,
Christa
Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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Showing Him the Ropes is now available with a brand new cover!
Amazon, Kobo, B&N, Apple

Don't Call it a Comeback...

In 2016 I launched a new series – Champions of Desire. Book one is Showing Him the Ropes, a m/m romance with mentor-mentee, older-younger, secret office romance tropes. Chance is in the twilight of his professional wrestling career, while Devin is an emerging talent. I love the story, the characters, and the idea for the entire series. I’m a huge fan of professional wrestling and I’ve watched off and on since I was a kid. I was excited to write a series set in one of my favorite settings.

But… I was also nervous. I’m well aware that a lot of people who aren’t professional wrestling fans, look down on wrestling. My own mother always asks my dad, ‘Why are you watching that? It’s fake.’ It’s pretty easy to see that there are very few books with professional wrestling as the backdrop. There’s lots of MMA but romance featuring main characters who work the squared circle for a living are few and far between.

So I had fear. What if it bombed? What if Reddit Squared Circle got a hold of the book, and there was a huge thread making fun of it, and then they all went on a one-star review spree on Amazon?! Oh my god the horror. Or, even worse, what if a professional wrestler came across it and dogged it out on Twitter for all the world to see?
Yeah. I’m dramatic AF and make up worst case scenarios in my head all the time.

For the record, none of that happened. In fact, a professional wrestler friend of mine gave me some cool encouragement and advice on places to promote the book. But. When it was released, Ropes didn’t do well. The people who did read it really loved it! I received lots of positive messages, and the reviews on Amazon, Goodreads and the blog tour were solid. Thanks everyone! On the other hand, sales wise… Yeesh. It was painful. There could have been several factors at play there.

1) Maybe the blurb wasn’t that hot.
2) Maybe readers didn’t like the cover.
3) Maybe the story sucked.

The biggest failure lies with me, however. I didn’t promote it as much as I should have. One, I was in the middle of leaving my day job at the time and deciding to put my house up for sale at the same time I was finishing and releasing the book. I was uncomfortable at that job and my time management for doing multiple things at once is negative 1 on a scale of 1 - 10. Basically I was under a lot of personal stress while I was birthing Showing Him the Ropes into the world. I also didn't take into account the shifting dynamics of the ebook market and the challenges of starting a new series.

But if I could be painfully honest with you guys, the biggest problem was my own fear. I was so scared that people wouldn’t like or would make fun of the book that I did that thing where I sort of run and hide so I don’t have to face any possible criticism. Which meant I didn’t promote Chance and Devin very much.

So when sales were poor (and I mean pooooor) I said to myself, “Self. That series is DOA. Nobody wants to read a wrestling romance. Pack it up and move on." But I have another but. Readers kept reaching out to me and asking would there be a book two. They wanted Tre and Brandon’s story. And you know what? I wanted their story too. I took some time, thought about it and realized I didn’t give my sexy wrestling dudes a fair shake.

As a result, I’ve decided to re-launch the Champions of Desire series. Yay! I worked with my amazing editor Jae Ashley to tighten Chance and Devin’s story and write a more dynamic blurb. I also wanted a fresh start with the cover, so after a hilarious cover model selection poll on Twitter and Facebook, I reached out to Melody Simmons at BookCoversCre8tive to give Showing Him the Ropes a brand-new look. I think Chance and Devin look very nice together.
When a Gruff Veteran Meets an Irrepressible Rookie, Who Will Come Out on Top?
Chance “The Chancellor” Gerhardt – multi-time champion and respected veteran of the locker room – worries he’s entering the twilight of his professional wrestling career. All he wants is one more shot at a championship title run. Instead, his boss saddles him with mentoring a hot, young rookie, Devin Jacobs.

Devin has admired The Chancellor for years, and he’s thrilled to work up close and personal with the steely eyed older wrestler. But while Devin learns from his mentor, he can’t resist admiring the man’s deliciously burly physique.

Trapped together in the intimacy of late-night road trips and shared hotel rooms, longing glances lead to whispered confessions of desire. Devin would love to bring a little warmth and sexiness to his hero’s cold and solitary life. Unfortunately, Chance refuses the rookie’s flirting. After years in the business, he knows their careers will be ruined if their relationship is discovered by the fans. But Devin won’t let that fear stop him from going after everything he wants – championship gold and the man he desires.

Can Devin find a way to prove to Chance that they can have it all? Or will their shot at love be defeated 1-2-3?
If you haven’t read it yet, Showing Him the Ropes is currently on sale for .99 on Amazon, Kobo, B&N, and Apple (Apple link coming soon).

I’m also very happy to announce that book 2 in the Champions of Desire series will be available in March! Tre and Brandon have their own story with In His Corner. If you’d like an early look at the cover as well as a sneak peek, sign up for my Newsletter.

In the coming weeks I’ll have goodies and free short stories, so be sure to follow me on social media or subscribe to this blog. I’m excited. Sexy wrestling dudes for the win.
Thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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Showing Him the Ropes: Amazon, Kobo, B&N

Five Reasons Romance Novels are Awesome

It’s Valentine’s Day! You know what that means. Lots of pictures posted from your friends where they have their cheek smushed really close together with their significant other’s cheek as they smile into the camera. Flowers, candy, and teddy bears delivered to offices and classrooms. Then an abrupt few hours of quiet on social media as couples and throuples have dinner, put on a little mood music and do whatever it is they do.
I wouldn’t know of course. I’m an innocent angel. But wait! There’s one more thing happening today. Romance authors are coming out of the woodwork. We’ve practiced all year for this. We’ve stretched. And now, it’s our time to shine, baby!
Just for you, we’ve got discounted books, giveaways and we’ve got book freebies. Our entire industry is all about love, and we want to invite you in and share it with you. But maybe you’re wondering. I don’t know… romance novels? Are they for me?

Well, I’m here to tell you they are, because romance novels are awesome. So without further ado, here’s my Top Five Reasons Romance Novels are Awesome. (Okay, I know that title isn’t particularly imaginative but I thought of it before I had my coffee. Cut me some slack.)

1) Any sub-genre you’re in the mood for, we’ve got it.
I suspect that people outside the wonderful world of romance novels think there’s only two types: the Harlequin-type contemporary with a rich hero or historicals set in a British castle. While we do have those and they are lovely, there’s so much more!

There’s romantic suspense, science fiction, fantasy, urban fantasy, Westerns, sports, motorcycle clubs, military, shape-shifters, vampires, Amish, Inspirational, and many more. We are a wide and varied genre, my friend. Not to mention there’s various degrees of physical intimacy, from full-on erotic romance to fade to black after a chaste kiss, and everything in between.

2) There are lots of different people represented between the covers. (Book covers you perv. But also bed covers, you know what I’m sayin’? Hubba-hubba)

Romance novels used to be uh… restricted in the types of characters that appeared on the page. But year after year, more and more authors from diverse backgrounds are writing characters who are diverse as well. Multiculturalism is represented. The LGBT rainbow also gets lots of shine from authors writing relationships with characters who are gay, lesbian, transgender, ace and more. But wait, that’s not all! Our fabulous genre also has variety in age, body type and abilities. You want it, we’ve got it.

Check out Women in Color Romance and Romance Novels in Color for romance written by POC authors and featuring multicultural love interests, and Queer in Color for romance with queer and diverse characters.
3) We evolve with the times.
Okay, okay. We got a bad rap with that whole “bodice ripper” thing.
Yes, there were some novels where consent was questionable and a woman or two was thrown over the back of a horse. But you can’t assume an entire genre wrote that. Just like you can’t assume an entire genre only uses the abuse, death, and rape of women as plot devices to advance a man’s character development. Ooops! Sorry, that was snarky. My bad. Back to the love!

Every year, the romance genre takes strides to show on the page things like safe sex and consent. And it’s not boring, “Excuse me, heroine do you want my penis that is covered by latex in your vagina?” It’s sexy. More along the lines of a husky whisper asking if a touch feels nice and if their partner wants more of it. So basically our heroes and heroines ask for consent, but they make it sexy.

4) We don’t mock love and relationships.
When romance authors are writing about love, we mean it. We don’t make fun of the person who wants a relationship. We don’t sneer at emotion. We don’t laugh at grand gestures. When romance authors put those scenes on the page we mean them 100%. We’re trying to give you the feels, man.

Go ahead and cry, laugh, scream and rip your shirt off and wave it over your head as you run out into the street to tell all your neighbors how much you loved it when the hero fell to his knees and confessed that he wants to wear his Dom’s collar. (I wrote that. You can read it in The Sergeant) We’ll be right there with you in spirit. Actually, we probably did the same thing when we wrote the scene.
5) You know you’ll get a happy ending.
All that love we give you in our books? We promise we won’t snatch it away at the end. With romance novels you are guarandamnteed a happy ending. The love interests are together. There’s no bittersweet ending. No will they or won’t they. Nothing ambiguous. That is our promise to you. So if you know you are in the mood for something where everything ends well and happy (and boy do we need that sometimes), pick up a romance novel.

And that concludes our Five Reasons Romance Novels are Awesome list! On this, the Day of Love or any other time you want to read some good shit, we’ll be here with our books waiting to share them with you.

Happy Valentine’s Day and thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

My Cuffs, Collars & Love series is on sale for .99 each this week only!
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National Novel Writing Month

It's National Novel Writing Month or as the cool kids call it, NaNoWriMo. If you're reading this blog, you probably already know what Nano is. If not, let me give you a quick breakdown.

National Novel Writing Month is when writers across the globe - budding, published or otherwise - commit to writing 50,000 words in the month of November. It's a challenge to help writers get those words down with the goal of having a (semi) finished novel at month's end. My friend Monica first hipped me to it back in 2010.

Now I know what you're thinking. Christa, you're already published several times over. Why do you need to participate in NaNo? Well my friend, the answer is two-fold. First, I want to work on my writing speed. I can finish a book, but I take too long to do it. I'm hoping that by participating in NaNo, I can get focused and write straight through, without stopping to ponder and agonize over my draft for a month.

I also want to participate because I'm writing something vastly different from my published books. I'm finally, finally FINALLY writing the historical fantasy that I've been wanting to do for several years. Since I've only published contemporary so far, I almost feel like I'm starting over. So I've got all the nerves that go with writing a first book.

So what's my WIP about? I'll tell ya. Last week I did a Twitter meme: 1 Like = 1 Fact about My NanoWriMo Work In Progress. I'll share them here as well.
1) I changed the ethnicity of one of my main characters because I wanted to use gorgeous Willy Carter as a muse.
2) I have to research birds for this WIP even though I'm terrified of them & don't even like to look at them. I'm already regretting this decision.

3) I came up with the idea for this story four years ago. I gave Hero #2 two swords because Lancelot looked cool with them in King Arthur.
4) This WIP is trope-tastic! I researched tropes like Body Guard Babes, Big Heroic Run & After Action Healing on TV Tropes. It's gonna be a total popcorn fest and I already love it.

5) The geography of the kingdom is based off the bluffs that Cahokia Mounds & later, St. Louis, Missouri were built on.

6) I'll be writing my first on-page deaths of named characters. I'm already in mourning for them.
7) I latched onto Sheith from Voltron as an OTP (One True Pair) ship because they fit the Tol & Smol dynamic of my WIP's main characters. They also share a lot of their tropes. I've got a whole blog post on this coming later.

8) I was originally going to have the king's posse all with shaved heads. But decided later that was boring looks-wise.

9) My cast of characters is very diverse.  In my WIP's world, people travel, settle & marry without regard to race
10) I'm researching cults & mass suicides like Jonestown. The series will get a little dark sometimes.

11) Hero #1 is straight-forward & naively expects everyone around him to be the same. He also wears tight, black leather pants. Meow!

12) Much to the disgust of warriors, battle & death often influences the fashion of the court.
13) I'm writing this in multiple Point of Views - three or possibly four. Eeeeek!

14) I almost named a character after one of the dudes from Jodeci but decided to name him Cornelius instead. I'm not actually sure that's better.

15) I'll be writing my first on-page lesbian couple. I plan to give them their own book in the series in the future.
16) Hero #2 is demisexual, which influences his 'warrior monk' personality.

17) I haven't discovered the character flaws for Hero #2 yet. So far he's perfect. And perfect characters are usually boring, so I'd better find out his issues STAT.
I only made it to 17 on Twitter, but I'll do a few bonus facts here so I can have a nice even Twenty.

18) I'm considering doing another story within a story type deal. Like I did with the Supreme Might of Love. We'll see. I'm still pondering.

19) The opening scene arose from a tweet I posted several years back, where I joked I was going to write a fanfic spin on The Hunger Games with the men oiled, sexy & fighting in loincloths.  My OG OTP were going to be the main characters in that fic. If you dig you can find out who that is. Or if you've been around me since 2012 you already know.

20) Throne Sex.

And that's it! I'll be checking in this month with more news on my Nano WIP. And hopefully by November 30, I'll have 50,000 words to start my first historical fantasy.

Wish me luck and thanks for reading!
Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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Using Life Experiences for Writing Inspiration: Domestic Violence

Let’s get personal for a moment. If you’ve read the blurb for A Sniper’s Devotion, you know that the book has a warning for scenes of domestic violence. I haven’t talked about this in years, but I’d like to share my own brief brush with domestic violence.

In my early twenties I dated a guy – let’s call him Bruce. He was a friend and co-worker at the restaurant where I worked, and he ended up being my rebound guy. He was great as a friend. Not so much as a boyfriend. I realized pretty early on that the relationship wasn’t going to be THE ONE.

There were a few things that made my Spidey senses tingle: he bragged about how many women he’d slept with, which was a lot. High double digits a lot. He lied about his age. He was actually about ten years older than he’d been telling people. When sharing stories of his past, he called women who he felt had done him wrong bitches, and said how badly he wanted to hit them.

When I got a shiny new car as a graduation gift to myself, he always wanted to drive it. I let him a few times because I wanted to show off how cool it was, but then he started demanding to drive it. One day when I refused, he got mad and wouldn’t accept me saying no. Like, he literally sat in the driver’s seat of my car angrily pouting and wouldn’t get out.

Taken together, I should have seen that there were serious issues there. But he’d been my friend for over a year by that point and all couples have problems right? So I didn’t see it as that big of a deal. But then the relationship started to get really rocky.

I’d broken up with him once already, mostly because I knew that I wasn’t feeling anything permanent between us. But he played the sad, hurt card and I got back together with him out of guilt. (Never stay with someone out of guilt) I now know he was manipulating me.

But since things were so rocky, I started paying more attention to the warning signs he was giving off. A new one that went up was his behavior with a female co-worker. And here’s where I made my biggest mistake. Instead of breaking up with him, I got jealous. I mentioned as a “joke” to him a couple of times that he had a thing for her.

One day I caught him in a lie about the female co-worker. When I mentioned it and he didn’t say anything I walked away. It was the end of a long weekend shift and I was ready to go home. I went to the employee restroom before heading out. Unfortunately, the night wasn’t over for me. He followed me into the women’s restroom, slamming the door open and almost hitting me with it. He got up in my personal space, yelling and cursing.

I tried to leave. He wouldn’t let me. I’m just under five six and at the time I was about one hundred thirty-five pounds. He was a former defensive back. Six foot something and well over two hundred pounds. He stood in the doorway continuing to yell and wouldn’t move when I asked him several times so I could leave.

I was trapped in a small bathroom with nowhere to go. No one came to help me. Scared and furious, I spit on him and he finally got out of the way. Was that the wrong move? Absolutely, but I wasn’t sure how else to get him out of the way.

I tried again to walk away. I only made it as far as two steps into the restaurant proper before he attacked me. He grabbed my arm, slinging me around. I was wearing a winter coat so I got away from him only because my arm slid out of the sleeve. By the time he was finished yanking me back and forth, the coat was ripped in half and there were goose down feathers all over the smoking section. Again, no one did anything to help. Once I got loose I ran to the lobby and called the police.

The good thing is they came pretty quickly. The bad is they weren’t terribly helpful. Didn’t seem to care and advised me not to press charges. He said Bruce was going to be arrested anyway because he had warrants. I was crying, clueless and scared so I said fine. I just wanted to be able to get to my car safely. Knowing he had to spend at least one night in the pokey was enough.

As far as I was concerned the relationship and friendship were dead. He didn’t feel the same. He called me a few times, wanting to give me back my stuff. The stuff? A couple of CDs and I think maybe a book. Inconsequential. I told him to keep it or trash it. I didn’t care which. He didn’t. He showed up at my other job – I was a study seminar teacher at a high school, and called me from the parking lot to come outside so we could talk. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

When that didn’t work, he had his mom call me asking would I meet with him because he wanted to try and talk things out and to get his stuff back. His stuff was an apartment key and some other small item. I said no I won’t meet with him but I’ll happily mail the key back to him. I did and FINALLY that was that. I never heard from or saw Bruce again.

Once Bruce one hundred percent showed his true colors, it was easy for me to end things with him. I didn’t love him at all and I had strong support from my parents who made it clear that wasn’t acceptable behavior for a boyfriend. There was never any question that I would be going back to him. And let's be clear, I'm not saying that I never did anything wrong. It's obvious that I made several mistakes in that relationship. But I didn’t have to keep making them.

I was lucky. Many people are not. Many people succumb to the let’s talk, I’m sorry routine. Many people aren’t able to leave because there are children involved or a multitude of other reasons.

In writing Miguel’s story, I tried to convey this struggle to escape an abuser with compassion and understanding. Of course, since he’s a fictional character, Miguel’s problems were much, much bigger than mine. I didn’t have to rebuild my life after a short relationship with a guy who turned out to be a jackass. But some of my favorite parts of A Sniper’s Devotion to write were Miguel experiencing how to be on his own. I was proud of him. I hope you’ll be proud of him too.
A portion of the proceeds from A Sniper’s Devotion will be donated to the Montrose Center which helps the Houston LGBT Community, including those who are victims of Domestic Violence.

Thanks for reading!

Love,
Christa

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A Sniper's Devotion: First Chapter & Giveaway!

Hello and Happy Sunday! I am in a super-duper good mood because my next book releases in just over two weeks. If you missed it earlier this week, allow me to present to you the cover and blurb for A Sniper’s Devotion.
Officer Hector Castillo, a sniper on Houston’s elite SWAT team, is content living alone as a perpetual bachelor. But when he opens up his small apartment to a friend in need, their close quarters awaken long suppressed desires Hector can’t help but acknowledge.

Miguel Delgado’s unfortunate detour down a road he never intended to travel ends in a big wake up call, but he vows to get himself back on track. Though he’s always looked up to Hector, Miguel isn’t a kid with hero-worship anymore, and his schoolyard protector has matured into a strong and caring man – who happens to look damn sexy in his SWAT uniform.

Though their physical attraction to each other is undeniable, Hector and Miguel try hard to resist and protect their friendship. Until one night changes everything…  

A Sniper’s Devotion is a loving and sexy, friends to lovers erotic romance. Hector and Miguel’s story is part of the Cuffs, Collars and Love series, but it is a stand-alone novel.
 
Ah, happiness. Hector and Miguel’s story was a joy to write. It made me sad at times, but I really do love the characters. It was also bittersweet, because A Sniper’s Devotion is the last in the Cuffs, Collars and Love series. I’m saying goodbye to my SWAT boys and moving on. Thank you so much to everyone who loved these guys and supported the series.

But I have more to share! The first chapter of A Sniper’s Devotion is now up for you to get your eyeballs on. You can scroll to the bottom of this post and read it here. It’s also available on the A Sniper’s Devotion page on my website, where there’s goodies like excerpts and my writing play list. You can also check out the first chapter on my Facebook Page.

And that’s not all! (I really missed my calling as an infomercial sales woman) If you’re interested in getting your hands on an e-copy of A Sniper’s Devotion, there are two ways to win. First, you can enter HERE on my website. The only thing you’ll need is your first name, email and book format preference. You can also enter on Library Thing. But it does require you to have an account with them.  Both contests begin today October 22nd and end October 29th. Don't forget! Scroll to the bottom to read Chapter 1.

Thanks for reading!

Love,
Christa

Visit my website: www.ChristaTomlinson.com
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Books 1-4 in the Cuffs, Collars & Love series:  AMAZON  B&N.COM  KOBO & APPLE
Chapter 1

Hector sighed with exhaustion as he drove up to his apartment building. The long, solitary drive back from his friend's wedding in the Texas Hill Country had tired him out, and the late hour had him ready for bed. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be going to sleep anytime soon. Drama waited for him inside his apartment. He sighed again. It was a sad day when a man dreaded going into his own home. Hector sucked it up and turned off the ignition. He was here now, so he might as well get in there and find out what the hell was going on.

When he walked inside, he immediately noticed the young man sitting on his couch. Though uninvited, he was a friend from long ago, so Hector gave him a relaxed greeting. "Hey, Miguel. How are you?"

The dark-haired young man shrugged, a lopsided smile on his handsome face. "Been better."

Hector tossed his keys down on the end table. Miguel's mouth was puffy and split, a purplish bruise blooming on his cheek. The sight of the injury put Hector on immediate alert, ready to find out who’d hurt his friend. Before he could ask him about it, the door to his bedroom opened and Hector's mother came out. He didn't bother asking why she was in there with the door closed. From Miguel's face, he knew something had gone down.
"Hector, you're home."

Hector went over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Yeah, Mamá." He flicked his gaze back over to Miguel, noting for the first time the bulging backpack and duffle bag sitting on the floor at the corner of the couch. "You want to tell me what's going on?" His mother looked off to the side and pursed her lips, a sure sign she was holding back from saying something distasteful.


"Come with me, Hector."
She drew him into his bedroom and closed the door again. His mother's best friend sat in the armchair in front of the window. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and she had the gold cross pendant around her neck pressed to her lips.

"Hey, Tia Claudia." She wasn't really his aunt. He called her that out of respect because she was his mother's best friend and had been in his life since he was born.

"Mijo, it's good to see you. It's been too long."

He went over and bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek as well. When he straightened, he looked back and forth between the two women. "All right. Why is Miguel here with packed bags and a bruise on his face?"
Claudia started crying again. His mother answered the question. "His boyfriend hit him."

Hector stiffened. "What?"

Lupita nodded. "Yes. He's not a good man. This isn't the first time he's hit Miguel, but it's the first time Miguel has run away from him."

"Not the first time? Why am I just now hearing about this? Wait." Hector held his hand up to stop his mother from answering. "Shouldn't we be talking about this with Miguel?" he asked in confusion.

"I want to spare him," Claudia said.

"Spare him from what? He's the one who got hit by an abusive asshole. I think he's already had to deal with the worst of it."

"Hector!" his mother snapped. "Don't use language like that."

Hector held back a frustrated sigh. It was ridiculous his mother was chiding him for his language in this situation. But it wasn't unexpected. "Sorry, Mamá. I'm just angry that Miguel is hurt. Why is he here instead of at Tia Claudia's house?"

"I brought him here so he'd have a safe place to stay. He's been living with Santos for three years. Santos didn't let him work, and everything Miguel had Santos paid for. He has no money and got out with a few clothes and not much else. And I don't trust that man not to come for Miguel. I know if he's here, you'll make sure he's protected."
This time Hector didn't hold back his sigh. "I have a one-bedroom apartment, Mamá. It'll be a tight fit with both of us in here."

"It's just for a little while. I don't think it will be a problem for Miguel to sleep on your couch. You two were so close when you were boys. You can help him now."
Looking back and forth between a crying Claudia and a firm Lupita, Hector knew he wasn't going to turn the request down. Miguel was his friend, although they hadn't spoken for several years. Now that he thought about it, they hadn't spoken for about the same amount of time Miguel had been with the boyfriend who hit him. Hector could help him while he got his shit sorted out. "Fine."

"Thank you, mi rey. You're such a good son," Lupita said as she smiled and patted him on the cheek.

Hector went back out into the living room, his mother and aunt following him. He automatically switched into public servant mode as he kneeled in front of Miguel.

"That's a pretty good bruise there. Did you put ice on it?"

Miguel nodded. "Yeah. And I already took some ibuprofen."

"Good. Anything else hurt?" He could see the pain in Miguel's dark eyes, and he was willing to bet it was from more than the marks on his face.
Miguel started to answer, then stopped and flicked his eyes to his mom.
From Miguel's reaction, there was obviously something he didn't want his mother to see. He looked back over his shoulder. "Mamá, can you take Tia Claudia back into my room, please? Just for a minute."

Another sniffle escaped Claudia as Lupita put an arm around her shoulders and guided her back into the bedroom.

He waited until the two women were behind the closed door before he turned back to the young man on the couch. "Show me."

"It's nothing. Just more bruises, but I didn't want my mom to see it."

"We'll determine if it's nothing once I take a look."

Miguel nodded and took his shirt off. Hector's eyes went immediately to the right side of his ribs, where a huge, dark bruise covered his skin.

"Foot or fist?"

"Foot."

Hector nodded. "I figured." He gently raised Miguel's arm so he could get a better look and see if the damage went any further. Hector lightly prodded the injury with his fingertips, and Miguel sucked in a quick, sharp breath. "Is it hard to breathe or anything?"

"No. I don't think anything is broken or cracked. Just really sore," he answered in a strained voice.

Hector ran his eyes over him everywhere. The only other injuries he saw were finger-shaped bruises high on his left arm. He eased Miguel's arm back down. "All right. Put your shirt back on. We'll get rid of the mamás, and I'll get those treated as best I can." Hector went back over to his bedroom and opened the door while Miguel tugged his shirt over his head.

"Mamá, it's late. You two should head home."

She started to say something but Hector held his hand up to hold her off.

"I'll get Miguel settled. All he needs for tonight is a pillow and a blanket. We can worry about the rest later."

Lupita nodded. "You're right."

Both women came out of the room, going over to the couch to fuss over Miguel. Hector allowed it for a few moments before he herded them out. They reluctantly left, with promises to come back the next day with food. After closing the door behind them, he looked back at Miguel. "Let's go in the kitchen."

Miguel winced as he stood, his hand going to the bruise on his ribs. Hector watched him carefully, but he didn't seem to be favoring anyplace else. Still, he had to be sure.

"You're positive nowhere else is hurt?"

"I'm sure. He grabbed me and hit me in the face. When I fell, he kicked me. That was it."

Hector raised an eyebrow. "That's it? I think that's more than enough."

Miguel's shoulders stiffened. "I only meant that was all he did, so you'd know I wasn't injured anywhere else. I don't need you judging me."

"Whoa, take it easy. I'm not judging you at all. I'm judging him."

Miguel relaxed, a smile touching his swollen lips. "As long as all you do is judge. I think he's too big for you to stuff in a locker."

Hector grinned, remembering the kid who’d tormented Miguel back in high school.

"That punk had it coming. He shouldn't have been messing with you."

"I think he learned his lesson after that. He never bothered me again."

"It'd be nice if it was still that easy to keep people from being assholes," he said as he put ice in a Ziploc bag and wrapped it in a dish towel. Hector squatted once more at Miguel's side, directing him to raise his shirt. Hector ran his fingers over the area, verifying that there were no protrusions signaling broken ribs. With the exception of the bruise, Miguel's skin was smooth and unblemished. Hector passed him the ice pack.

"Are you hungry?"

Miguel shook his head then flinched as he held the ice to his skin. "No, I'm just tired."
"Okay, let's get you to bed." They left the kitchen, and Hector started to lead Miguel to his bedroom. Miguel stopped him.

"Uh. I can sleep on the couch."

"No, you're not. You're all bruised up and sore. You need to sleep somewhere you can be as comfortable as possible. You take the bed, and I'll crash on the couch for a few nights." Hector thought that would settle the issue. But Miguel stayed where he was, his shoulders going stiff again.

"No. I'm already putting you out. I'm not taking your bed too."

Hector noticed the hard line to Miguel's jaw. They weren't exactly the best of friends after going so long without seeing each other, so Hector imagined he was probably embarrassed to show up out of the blue with a crying mother, a bruised body, and nowhere to go. If it meant that much to him to sleep on the couch, Hector would go along with it and let the man hold on to his pride.

"Fine. I'll be right back."

He went into his bedroom to grab a pillow from the pile on his bed and a light blanket from the closet. He returned and set them on the couch where Miguel was already sitting.

"Get some sleep. We'll figure the rest of this out in the morning." After Miguel thanked him, Hector turned to go to bed. It had been a long day and he was tired. Before he could close the bedroom door, however, Miguel called out to him.

"Hector."

Hector looked back over his shoulder at Miguel. He sat on the couch, head ducked, shoulders curled in as though he were protecting himself. So different than the way Hector remembered him. "Yeah?"

"The circumstances suck, but it's good to see you again."

Hector smiled at his long-time yet estranged friend. "You too."

***

Miguel woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming into an unfamiliar room. Confused and disoriented from sleep, he looked around, trying to get his bearings. When he shifted, his ribs pulled and throbbing pain hit him in a rush. That pain brought back the memory of everything that had gone on the day before.

Yesterday afternoon, he'd been bored and decided to go out for lunch and a movie. He'd gone alone because his friends were busy and Santos was off to one of his meetings. When he'd returned home, Santos had met him at the door, yelling and accusing Miguel of cheating on him. He'd tried to laugh it off, thinking he could tease Santos out of his mood like he had many times before. Unfortunately, he'd misjudged how far gone Santos had already been in his temper.

Santos had grabbed him in a painful, bruising grip and pulled him in close to his face, demanding to know who he was fucking. Except he'd said it in a not so nice way, with a few insults thrown in. Offended and getting mad himself, Miguel had snapped back and tried to yank his arm out of Santos's grip. And that had set Santos off. The fist had come flying at his face too fast for him to even try to dodge. It smashed into his jaw, and the world had spun as he'd crumpled to the white marble floor of the entryway. Trapped between Santos and the door, he'd cried out in pain when Santos kicked him with the hard toe of his dress shoe.

From experience, Miguel knew it could have been a lot worse. Thankfully, they were interrupted. Santos's assistant had come out of the office, reminding his boss that he had an associate on the line. Santos had glared down at Miguel, then left him lying there while he went back into the office for his phone call.

While Santos was busy, Miguel had run upstairs, grabbed a couple of bags, as many clothes and shoes as would fit in them, a few other basics and raced back downstairs. To his relief, Santos was nowhere to be seen. But the assistant had been at the door. His face stoic, he'd asked Miguel to hand over his credit cards and car keys. Miguel had, knowing the bigger man could easily take them from him if he resisted. He'd been upset but not defeated. He could walk out and call someone to come get him. But the assistant had surprised him with what he said next.

"I called you an Uber and charged it to my card. They'll pick you up at the coffee shop down the street."

Holding back tears, Miguel had nodded his thanks and left. He'd had the driver take him to his mom's house, because with so little money, his options were limited. Unfortunately, if Santos wanted to look for him, that was the first place he would go.
Miguel shifted again, wincing at his tender ribs. And that was how he'd come to be on this couch. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but considering how frantic everything had been yesterday, it wasn't the worst place for him to spend a night.

He got up and went into the little half bath to pee and freshen up. He'd grabbed a few toiletries in his rush last night, so thankfully, he could brush his teeth. He started to brush with his usual vigor, but winced as the toothbrush abraded his sore mouth. Miguel stopped, staring at himself with the toothbrush hanging from his swollen bottom lip. This was pathetic. He had to be careful brushing his goddamn teeth because his boyfriend had punched him in the face. He was lucky a sore mouth was all he had to worry about. As big as Santos was, he could have knocked out some of Miguel's teeth.

With an admittedly pathetic sigh, Miguel resumed brushing, slowly this time, taking care not to unnecessarily aggravate his sore cheek and lip. He rinsed and spit, then went back out to the living room. The door on the other side of the living room opened at the same time. Hector came out, clad in a pair of black drawstring pajama bottoms. He yawned, rubbing a hand across his flat stomach, fingers dancing over the line of dark hair that disappeared into his waistband.

Miguel stopped and stared. Hector had been good-looking in high school. He’d matured into an exceptionally handsome man. Unlike Miguel's nearly black eyes, Hector's were a warm brown that almost seemed to glow in the sunlight pouring into the room. He had dark brown hair cut close on the sides and a little longish on top. It looked soft. But his hair and full lips appeared to be the only things soft on him. Hector’s jawline was strong and graced with the barest hint of morning stubble. His shoulders were broad and very well-defined.

The broad expanse of Hector’s chest drew Miguel’s eye and made him want to reach out and touch it. Smooth, golden skin covered thick muscles that tapered down to ridged abs and a tight waist. Hector’s body was hard, everywhere. Well, Miguel refused to let his eyes drop below Hector's waist to see if he was hard everywhere. He didn’t need to see if his friend sported morning wood. And no doubt, Hector wouldn't appreciate him staring at his groin like a pervert.

He looked back up to see Hector watching him. When he raised an eyebrow, Miguel glanced down at himself. He was standing there in nothing but a pair of tight red briefs. An embarrassed flush scorched his face, and he jerked forward to grab his jeans from last night off the floor.

"Sorry about that," he said as he tugged them on. "I was still half asleep when I got up to brush my teeth and didn't even think." He pulled on his jeans, grimacing at their cold, wrinkled feel as he slid them up his legs.

Hector shrugged. "Don't worry about it." He stretched and yawned again as he headed into the kitchen. "You want breakfast? I have cereal and bread for toast. That's about it."

His jeans on, Miguel pulled a T-shirt over his head for good measure. "Cereal is fine." Miguel hid a grin as Hector got out a box of Froot Loops. It looked like some things were still the same from when they were kids. Whenever he'd been at the Castillo house on Saturday mornings, Hector had always had a giant bowl of cereal in front of him. They each poured a bowl of the colorful cereal and sat down at the kitchen table to eat.

The hum of the fridge and what filtered in from outside the window were the only sounds in the quiet kitchen. Hector seemed content to eat in silence, and Miguel didn't want to be a pest and disturb him. When he was finished, Hector poured himself another bowl before pushing the box toward Miguel.

"More?"

Miguel shook his head and carried his empty bowl to the sink to rinse out. When he was finished, he lingered there, unsure what to do next. 

"Sit down."

Miguel sat.

"Are we going down to the station to fill out a police report today?" Hector asked after swallowing another bite of cereal.

Miguel blanched. "God, no. Santos would not be happy to have police attention on him."

"Are you protecting him?" Hector asked in a hard voice.

Miguel laughed at that. "No, more like protecting myself from what he'd do in retaliation."

"Huh." Hector didn't say anything else, he just ate another spoonful of cereal.

Miguel’s face heated with anger, although he wasn't sure if it was anger at himself or Hector. It was easier to be mad at Hector. "I thought you weren't going to judge me," he snapped.

"Did I say I was?"

"You don't have to. I know you're wondering why I was with someone like that."

"Why were you?"

Miguel threw his hands up in the air. "It's not like I knew he would hit me when I started dating him. And he owns legit car dealerships. How was I supposed to know he had shady stuff going on on the side?"

"But you eventually realized he was into things that made him not want police attention."

"So? It's not like I was the one doing them." Miguel knew that was a dumb comment. But he refused to take it back. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, staring Hector down.

Hector finished his cereal and leaned back in his chair. "Miguel, you're one of the few people I know who has both book smarts and street smarts. So you know how getting mixed up with someone like that usually goes."

Hector was right. Rather than admit it, Miguel continued to sit there with his arms crossed, except now he stared at a spot over Hector's shoulder.

Hector sighed. "What's done is done. You don't want to file a police report, fine. I think you should, so you can have the incident on record, but I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do."

Miguel finally looked at Hector again. "Thank you."

"What do you want to do?"

Miguel dropped his arms, shoulders slumping forward. "I'm not really sure. Santos didn't want me to work, so I don't have any money other than a little bit of cash in my wallet and maybe a few hundred in my bank account. He had his assistant take my credit cards before I left since they were his accounts. So I guess first is getting one of my friends to let me crash on their couch for a few months. And second is getting a job."

"You already have a friend letting you crash on their couch. Move on to number two."

"I meant a different friend."

"Is my couch that lumpy?" Hector asked with a grin.

Miguel relaxed a little at the teasing. "No, I just don't want to put you out."

"My mom and your mom asked me to look out for you. You think I'm letting you leave so I can have those two breathing down my neck?"

Miguel found his own grin at the mental image of the two tiny women intimidating Hector. Claudia was more likely to shame Hector with tears, but Lupita was a dragon. She'd breathe fire on both their necks if Miguel ended up somewhere other than where she'd left him. Neither of them had been thrilled about letting him out of their sight after the incident with Santos. If Hector weren’t a cop, Miguel would be at his mom’s house instead of sleeping on his friend’s couch. "Well, when you put it that way."

"Besides, if you're here, I won't have to worry about Santos getting his hands on you again."

"Are you going to hold me hostage if I try to go back to him?"

"No. And I meant him finding you. Not you going to him. But if you were thinking about it, I'd try to talk you out of it."

"I had the nerve to leave. Why would I go back to him?"

"Sometimes situations like what happened last night don't seem so bad once the shock wears off. And that can make a victim of abuse decide to go back to their partner."

"I'm not going back to Santos. So if the only reason you want me to stay here is so you can keep me from going back to him, don't worry about it." 

Hector sat there silently, softly drumming his fingertips on the table. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet, gaze direct on Miguel's. "Things are good until he gets pissed at something and he hits you. Then he apologizes, maybe even gets you a present to show how sorry he is, and things are good again. Until the next time he hits you. Am I right?"

Embarrassed, Miguel looked down at the table, thinking of the gifts he'd received each time Santos had lost his temper.

"I'm not your keeper, Miguel. I'm just helping out a friend."

Miguel's voice rose in anger and frustration at this entire situation. "Then be a friend and not my domestic abuse counselor," he snapped again. Miguel immediately regretted the show of temper. He was confused and scared, and he was taking all this out on the wrong person. He pulled in a deep breath, slowly letting it out through his nose. The action hurt his ribs, but it also calmed him down. "I'm sorry."
Hector shrugged. "Don't apologize. You're allowed to be a little pissy after what you went through."

Miguel sighed. "Yeah, but that's no excuse for yelling at you for trying to help." He was quiet for a moment then got the conversation moving along to the second thing he needed to address: a job. "You know, I finished my dental assistant training."
Hector nodded. "I know. My mom called and told me." Now Hector looked embarrassed. "I meant to call you and say congratulations but things were crazy at work and time got away from me."

"It's no big." Miguel traced the swirly patterns in the wood of the kitchen table with a finger. "Just dental assistant. It's not like I graduated from dental school or anything." He mentally flinched. Those words were Santos's not his. "Anyway, I figured I'd look for a job in a dentist's office. They're hard to come by, so I probably won't be able to get anything great. But I should at least be able to get something that will pay a decent amount of money."

"Sounds like a plan." Hector got up to put his own bowl in the sink. "The mamás are probably going to be here soon, so we should get cleaned up. You can use the shower first. There're towels and soap in the bathroom closet."

"Okay." Miguel went out to the living room where he'd left his phone, hoping it still had life since he hadn't grabbed a charger last night. There was a little battery left, but when Miguel tried to check his notifications, he realized he didn't have any service. Santos had cut his phone off. Miguel wasn't sure why he hadn't expected that. If Santos took his credit cards and car keys, of course he wasn't going to let him keep his phone line. Still, he stared down at his phone in surprise. It was a shock, not being able to do something as routine as go on Facebook and scroll through his feed. As he stood there holding his useless phone, he suddenly realized just how dependent he'd been on Santos.

Hector joined him in the living room. "Is something wrong?" he asked when he saw Miguel standing there, motionless.

Miguel turned and looked at him. He tried to smile, to put his friend at ease, but his cheeks couldn't be bothered to put in the work. "Nothing. I just need a new phone. Santos had this one disconnected." He tossed the cell down on the couch. It landed screen down, the gold glitter of the case sparkling up at him as he continued staring at it. "Not sure how I'm going to get one without any income." He stopped. The tears in his throat and prickling behind his eyelids were more eager to be seen than his fake smile had been. Miguel tried to hold them back, but the glittering phone case went blurry. "Shit. I have nothing," he whispered almost to himself. "Fucking nothing." He was still staring at the phone, silent tears running down his face, when strong arms went around him, pulling him into a hug.

"You've got family, Miguel. We'll get you through this."

Miguel stood there stiffly for a second, not wanting Hector's pity. But Hector's bare chest was warm, and Miguel felt like absolute shit. Maybe he could take a little bit of comfort. He relaxed into the embrace, letting his head rest on Hector's shoulder. His own shoulders shook with sobs as Hector squeezed him tight. It was nice to be held while he cried. Usually it was him alone in his bedroom, too ashamed to share his troubles with anyone. This was the first time he'd let anyone close enough to see the true effects of his relationship with Santos. Thankfully, Hector didn't say anything to make Miguel regret opening up. He didn't offer any stupid platitudes or, worse, blame him. He just gave silent comfort as Miguel cried and came to grips with everything that had happened.

Eventually he calmed. The sobs tapered off and his tears dried up. Hector pushed him back a little, and Miguel stared up at him. He'd had the biggest crush on Hector when they were kids. Of course, nothing had ever come of it. But Hector had always looked out for him, just like he was doing now. Miguel was grateful for that.

"Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it. I was dumb for getting involved with Santos and for staying with him as long as I did. But I'm going to get my shit together. I promise."

Hector smiled. "Make that promise to yourself, not to me." He ruffled Miguel's hair, giving him a slight push toward his bedroom.
Laughing, Miguel ducked out from under his hand. He took the hint and went to get cleaned up.

***
An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Hector got up and opened the door to see his mother standing there. She held a foil-wrapped baking dish, and several grocery bags dangled from her arms. Claudia stood behind her with even more bags.

"Knocking?" Hector asked her with a raised eyebrow. She usually came and went as she pleased, often stopping by to drop off food or clean his apartment the way she wanted it cleaned. "Did you lose your key?"

"Don't be smart, Hector. Take some of these bags."

Hector took the baking dish and half of the bags and stepped aside to let them in. Once Claudia put the bags she carried on the kitchen table, she immediately went to Miguel, gently cupping his face and clucking at his injury. She spoke softly to her son in Spanish. Hector stayed in the kitchen with his own mother to give the two of them privacy.

"You don't usually bring me groceries," he said as he watched her unpacking the bags.

"Consider it a thank-you for taking in Miguel. And I know you never have any real food. Miguel likes to cook, so maybe he'll make the two of you dinner."

Hector nodded and helped his mother put the groceries away, but his eyes kept returning to his friend. Miguel looked so forlorn as he stood there in front of his mother. He wasn't much taller than Claudia, which put him around five feet six if he was lucky. Miguel’s build was small overall, but he was in shape. His arms were lean and muscled, his stomach flat. The tight jeans he wore emphasized firm thighs.

As Hector watched Miguel talking with his mother, he noticed his friend’s hair was styled in the floppy curls he’d had as a kid. He remembered the time back in high school when Miguel had shaved his head in an attempt to look more masculine. As far as Hector could tell, all it had done was emphasize his big, dark eyes and long lashes. But he hadn't let his friend know that.

Hector admitted to himself that Miguel was cute. He always had been. Even now with scruff on his jawline and a bruise on his face that made him want to track down this Santos and give him double the taste of what he'd done to Miguel.

"Hector."

Hector yanked his gaze away from Miguel, oddly embarrassed that he'd been caught staring at his friend. "Yeah, Mamá?"

"He's going to need your help you know. More than just letting him stay here."

"I know. It'll be like old times with me watching out for him."

"Mmmm. Yes. But you're both adults now."

Hector assumed she was referring to Miguel's pride. "I won't embarrass him, Mamá."

"Just be gentle. Guide him as he gets his life back on track."

Hector wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Will do. I promise."

With the groceries all put away, they joined Miguel and Claudia in the living room. Claudia's face was wet with tears again, but Miguel no longer looked forlorn. Instead, he was undoubtedly frustrated.

"Did you tell your mom your plan?" Hector asked.

"Not yet. Too busy trying to reassure her this mess isn't her fault."

"It is," Claudia said as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "I shouldn't have stayed a single mother. I should have married so you'd have a strong male role model. Then you wouldn't have let a man treat you that way."

"Mom, can you please stop with that? I made the decision to date Santos because he flattered me, bought me stuff, and had a big—" Miguel stopped, his face going red. "House," he finished. “It didn't have anything to do with me not having a father. It's because I was shallow and enjoyed what he did for me. So let it go, okay? Let me take responsibility for once."

Silence hit the room. They all stood there awkwardly, none of them sure how to address Miguel's last remark. Lupita finally spoke up.

"Okay. No more blaming. It happened and now the only thing that matters is how we can help Miguel move on."

Claudia sniffed one last time before tucking her handkerchief away. "I have some money in my savings. I'll give that to you to get an apartment."

"Mom! I don't need—"

"Miguel has a plan to get a job and save for his own place. Until then he's agreed to stay on my couch." Hector interjected to head off a possible resurgence of the blame game and keep the conversation on track. Remembering what his mom had said about taking care of Miguel's pride, Hector looked at his friend. "Maybe in exchange you can help me out while you're here."

"How?"

"My mom said you like to cook?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I like to eat. But I eat a lot of take out and frozen shit—"

"Hector."

"Frozen stuff." Hector corrected himself without missing a beat. "It'd be nice to eat real food on a regular basis instead of waiting for my mom to take pity on me and bring me something."

Miguel stared at him for a long moment. He looked like he had something to say but ended up simply nodding.

"That's all settled. We're good. Right?" He looked at Claudia and she nodded too. Hector sighed, glad to have everyone on the same page and Claudia off Miguel's back. He glanced over to make eye contact with his friend. Hector gave him a wink and Miguel rewarded him with a grateful smile.