Cardeno C.'s Blog, page 123

Again, I'm cursed. LOL (Another T.C. Blue conversational situation)

Okay, so many of you have probably read some of my posts about various chats I've had with people and been all "WTF? No way that could happen!"

Well, sadly, you're wrong. Sorry, but there it is.

See, I have no filter. I think it, I say it. And okay, that doesn't always work out badly for me, but it does occasionally lead to large numbers of people giving me the stink-eye.

I'm guessing that this is not a shock to those of you who know me. Heh-heh.

So the other night, after a rather intense day with my Mum (this phrase will likely preface every post I ever make in which I say stupid shit out loud. Just saying, it might be a repeated thing), I swung by my local restaurant/bar. Now, I've been there many a time before. The bartender, Evan, knows me well enough that when I call him Special Ed-van, he doesn't get offended. (And yes, I do know that's entirely NOT PC, but deal. We're buds. We say mean shit to each other. It's a human thing.)

So Evan and I are having a chat while some local music group is playing a set that's not exactly acoustic but not far from it. This  local group apparently has a fair number of fans because the bar is crowded but so busy paying attention to the musicians that Evan actually has some spare time.

So he's telling me about a porn flick he saw a couple nights before and he actually looks a little bit worried when he finishes. I guess because -- even after knowing each other for FIVE YEARS he still think I'm going to judge him, which I would never do. Everyone has their own kinks and fuck if I'm going to be the chick who tells anyone else that theirs is wrong. As I've said more than once, here on this blog... whatever two or more consenting adults do together is none of my business. As long as no one gets hurt in ways they don't want to, I could give a fuck.

So, me being me, I respond to Evan's commentary with "Well, no shit. Who DOESN'T like a good choke-fuck?"

Of course, I say this just as the band finishes their song, so my voice carries out over the silence between the end of the music and the applause. *sighs*

Pretty sure I can never go back to that bar again, damn it.

And just for the record, I'm filing this under "Only Me!" Hahaha!

So anyone else have stories like this? If so, I'd love to hear them! *grins*

~Tis

Suday Flash Fiction: A Desperate Hope

Rather than using my standard writing prompt thingie at DIY MFA, this week's flash fiction piece comes courtesy of Chuck Wendig's flash fiction challenge. I really dig Chuck's blog, as an author, as a mom, and as an occasional lover of creepy horror stuff.  You should check it out. The man says he doesn't read romance, but we all have our forgivable flaws. Anyway, "we" were given 10 words and had to pick 3. Random.org was nice enough to pick THREE IN A ROW for me: epidemic, tongue, and mint. Umm... Thanks random.org. And there's a soupcon of  romance, cuz sorry, Chuck, there had to be romance.
Happy reading, Love Ellis 
Farzan cut down a narrow alley and ran, burning everywhere. Praying silently, he strained to hear over the sounds of his own footsteps. His own breathing.
They'd be coming for him.
He tripped over a discarded length of pipe and went down on one knee, breathing hard. He pulled deep, desperate gasps of what smelled and tasted like untainted air. No smoke, no disease.
Nothing met his ears but the sounds of chirping birds, who went about their day blissfully unaware of the human running from death on the streets below. Until a door slammed open in the stone wall beside him and pale hands covered his mouth and eyes.
Stupid. How did he not hear someone coming?
With a furious pulse Farzan fought and clawed, slamming his head back against the man's face. He kicked, bit at fingers, but the arms that held him were long. Muscular. The tall body against him, in fact, fit against his in a way that was strikingly familiar.
Lips against his ear, as the door closed behind them. "I'm going to let go. Quiet, okay?" Minty breath wafted past Farzan's cheek on a whisper.
Farzan knew that voice. Hands released and he spun to grab his old lover. "I thought you were dead." He let his head linger against Jamie's shoulder longer than he should have
J's hand came to the back of his neck. "It was better," he said. "When the epidemic spread across Southeast Asia, Professor Langstrom and I were automatically marked for removal since were on the original research team." Jamie huffed into Farzan's hair. "I didn't want you marked by association."
Farzan stepped back, squinting at Jamie in the dim light. The young geneticist's blond curls had gotten long and shaggy, his blue eyes dim from the raging war this plague had created. No less breathtaking, especially as his tongue slipped out to catch a drop of blood from his lower lip. "Well I'm marked now. I went up over Gunapana to try and find food. When I came home Ama and Yadamini were dead."
"You're sure of what killed them?"Farzan nodded. "Mottled skin. Bugling tongues and eyes. Bleeding. It was painful to even look." The disease known as the New Asian Plague, killed swiftly. Even now Farzan wanted to vomit over the knowledge that he'd left them to die alone.
"Did you touch them?"
Farzan shook his head, queasy all over again.
Voices out in the alley. "Good," Jamie whispered. He grabbed Farzan's hand. "Come on."
They headed for the stairs in the empty house, heading up. At the bottom, Farzan hesitated. "What if I have the disease? I don't want to infect you. There's a reason they burn the entire household after one person dies."
Jamie pulled his arm. "Just come on. This isn't the time for talk."
A loud thump sounded on the door Jamie had pulled Farzan though. Farzan turned and followed Jamie up the stairs.
The upper level of the house was just as empty. A few abandoned items as if the house had been cleared out fast. When things had progressed so quickly, from illness to outbreak to epidemic, many fled. To country homes, to mountain retreats. Farzan wondered how many survived.
If any survived.
"In here," J said, pulling Farzan into the back of a dark closet. They'd reached the farthest bedroom on the upper level, behind a row of long-forgotten girl's dresses. "Okay." Jamie took a deep breath, pulling Farzan close and putting both arms around him. Tightly. Too tightly. "This is the part where you have to trust me."
The floor disappeared from beneath them. Farzan fought against a scream. Heights--falling, was one of his greatest fears. He gripped Jamie for all he was worth. No, burning alive would be worse.
They thumped down on a lumpy mattress only seconds later. Jamie was patting him all over. "You okay?"
"Sure." His pulse was making time like a hamster on meth and he was pretty sure he'd twisted his ankle, but he'd survive. "Where are we?"
"Buncha condemned houses behind that alley you were in. Marked to be torn down but never were. When we first got here the professor shored up a living area and built a passageway." Once again, Jamie reached for Farzan's hand. "This way."
Wait. Farzan looked around. His breath grew shallow as they stepped from the crumbling corridor into a sunny courtyard with growing green things. Coconut trees. Off to the side in a many large buckets, pots and pots of mint plants. "You said when you first got here?"
Jamie bit his lower lip. "Langstrom's a smart guy. He knew from the beginning this thing was gonna spread too fast to contain. Cause a panic. We planned."
In the heat of the midday sun, Farzan went cold. "Panic like burning houses."
Jamie nodded. "Takes contact during the symptomatic period. I'd bet thousands have died who were never ill." He stepped forward, pale hand against Farzan's dark cheek. He studied Farzan carefully, running his fingers over one arm and then the other. "Stick out your tongue."
Farzan complied, and Jamie smiled.
"No symptoms. Tongue looks great."
Farzan pulled it back in his mouth.
"That food run saved you." Jamie handed over a mint leaf from one of the plants. "Chew. It's strong, but the mint protects against the disease. Have it daily. Sometimes we brew it as a tea."
"We?"
J pointed. "Langstrom's in the house over there. He likes to nap during the day." He pointed again, across the courtyard. "I'm in that one." We grow our own food. We have chickens. Enough to ride it out until the plague passes." He smiled then, at Farzan. "I would really like you to stay. With me."
Farzan breathed deeply, taking in Jamie's broad smile.
"Or." Jamie swallowed. "We could make you a place to sleep in one of the other--"
"Yes. I would really like to stay." Farzan slipped one arm around J, bumping their foreheads together. "With you."

A Desperate Hope

Rather than using my standard writing prompt thingie at DIY MFA, this week's flash fiction piece comes courtesy of Chuck Wendig's flash fiction challenge. I really dig Chuck's blog, as an author, as a mom, and as an occasional lover of creepy horror stuff.  You should check it out. The man says he doesn't read romance, but we all have our forgivable flaws. Anyway, we were given 10 words and had to pick 3. Random.org was nice enough to pick THREE IN A ROW for me: epidemic, tongue, and mint. Umm... Thanks random.org. And there's a soupcon of  romance, cuz sorry, Chuck, there had to be romance.
Happy reading, Love Ellis 
Farzan cut down a narrow alley and ran, burning everywhere. Praying silently, he strained to hear over the sounds of his own footsteps. His own breathing.
They'd be coming for him.
He tripped over a discarded length of pipe and went down on one knee, breathing hard. He pulled deep, desperate gasps of what smelled and tasted like untainted air. No smoke, no disease.
Nothing met his ears but the sounds of chirping birds, who went about their day blissfully unaware of the human running from death on the streets below. Until a door slammed open in the stone wall beside him and pale hands covered his mouth and eyes.
Stupid. How did he not hear someone coming?
With a furious pulse Farzan fought and clawed, slamming his head back against the man's face. He kicked, bit at fingers, but the arms that held him were long. Muscular. The tall body against him, in fact, fit against his in a way that was strikingly familiar.
Lips against his ear, as the door closed behind them. "I'm going to let go. Quiet, okay?" Minty breath wafted past Farzan's cheek on a whisper.
Farzan knew that voice. Hands released and he spun to grab his old lover. "I thought you were dead." He let his head linger against Jamie's shoulder longer than he should have
J's hand came to the back of his neck. "It was better," he said. "When the epidemic spread across Southeast Asia, Professor Langstrom and I were automatically marked for as tainted since were on the original research team." Jamie huffed into Farzan's hair. "I didn't want you marked by association."
Farzan stepped back, squinting at Jamie in the dim light. The young geneticist's blond curls had gotten long and shaggy, his blue eyes dim from the raging war this plague had created. No less breathtaking, especially as his tongue slipped out to catch a drop of blood from his lower lip. "Well I'm marked now. I went up over Gunapana to try and find food. When I came home Ama and Yadamini were dead."
"You're sure of what killed them?"Farzan nodded. "Mottled skin. Bugling tongues and eyes. Bleeding. It was painful to even look." The disease known as the New Asian Plague, killed swiftly. Even now Farzan wanted to vomit over the knowledge that he'd left them to die alone.
"Did you touch them?"
Farzan shook his head, queasy all over again.
Voices out in the alley. "Good," Jamie whispered. He grabbed Farzan's hand. "Come on."
They headed for the stairs in the empty house, heading up. At the bottom, Farzan hesitated. "What if I have the disease? I don't want to infect you. There's a reason they burn the entire household after one person dies."
Jamie pulled his arm. "Just come on. This isn't the time for talk."
A loud thump sounded on the door Jamie had pulled Farzan though. Farzan turned and followed Jamie up the stairs.
The upper level of the house was just as empty. A few abandoned items as if the house had been cleared out hastily, which made sense. When things had progressed so quickly, from illness to outbreak to epidemic, many fled. To country homes, to mountain retreats. Farzan wondered how many survived.
If any survived.
"In here," J said, pulling Farzan into the back of a dark closet. They'd reached the farthest bedroom on the upper level, behind a row of long-forgotten girl's dresses. "Okay." Jamie took a deep breath, pulling Farzan close and putting both arms around him. Tightly. Too tightly. "This is the part where you have to trust me."
The floor disappeared from beneath them. Farzan fought against a scream. Heights--falling, was one of his greatest fears. He gripped Jamie for all he was worth. No, burning alive scared him more.
They thumped down on a lumpy mattress only seconds later. Jamie was patting him all over. "You okay?"
"Sure." His pulse was making time like a hamster on meth and he was pretty sure he'd twisted his ankle, but he'd survive. "Where are we?"
"Buncha condemned houses behind that alley you were in. Marked to be torn down but never were. When we first got here the professor shored up a living area and built a passageway." Once again, Jamie reached for Farzan's hand. "This way."
Wait. Farzan looked around. His breath grew shallow as they stepped from the crumbling corridor into a sunny courtyard with growing green things. Coconut trees. Off to the side in a many large buckets, pots and pots of mint plants. "You said when you first got here?"
Jamie bit his lower lip. "Langstrom's a smart guy. He knew from the beginning this thing was gonna spread too fast to contain. These things cause panic. We planned."
In the heat of the midday sun, Farzan went cold. "Panic like burning houses."
Jamie nodded. "I'd bet thousands have died who were never ill." He stepped forward, pale hand against Farzan's dark cheek. He studied Farzan carefully, running his fingers over one arm and then the other. "Stick out your tongue."
Farzan complied, and Jamie smiled.
"No symptoms. Tongue looks great."
Farzan pulled it back in his mouth.
Jamie handed over a mint leaf from one of the plants. "Chew. It's strong, but the mint protects against the disease. Have it daily. Sometimes we brew it as a tea."
"We?"
J pointed. "Langstrom's in the house over there. He likes to nap during the day." He pointed again, across the courtyard. "I'm in that one." We grow our own food. We have chickens. Enough to ride it out until the plague passes." He smiled then, at Farzan. "I would really like you to stay. With me."
Farzan breathed deeply, taking in Jamie's broad smile.
"Or." Jamie swallowed. "We could make you a place to sleep in one of the other--"
"I would really like to stay." Farzan slipped one arm around J, bumping their foreheads together. "With you."

Smutty Vocabulary Equals Fabulous Author

Who is M.L. Rhodes? In her own words she says she is: "an opinionated chick with a decent sense of humor and a vocabulary that's way too smutty for someone who grew up as a "good" girl." This mother of two writes steamy-hot male on male romance novels from her home in the Rocky Mountain foothills. She has been a professional writer for sixteen years. She firmly believes " love and physical desire are universal emotions and experiences. Yes, there are going to be some gender differences, obviously, but overall, when two people meet, are attracted, and eventually fall in love I think those emotions, at the core, are something we all feel, regardless of whether we’re women or men, straight or gay."

In her free time Rhodes enjoys wheelthrowing, eating cooked zucchini - not raw zucchini and bowling. She has a varied work background. She has been employed as a preschool teacher, bookstore manager, bank secretary, retail clerk, BLS (Basic Life Support) instructor for docs and nurses, office temp; among other things. She loves being a professional writer, and her three cats and two dogs keep her company while she types out her stories on her Mac Book Air.

Her story Familiar is about a magically challenged Emrys Andrew. This awkward non-jock was never in the popular crowd and always had a secret crush on a boy in his town named David Jennings. Jennings is popular, athletic and most importantly a non-magical "normal" guy. This alluring combination of traits makes Jennings irresistibly sexy to young Andrews.

When they have an unexpected encounter Andrews is pleasantly surprised to find out that he is not the only one who has been secretly admiring from afar. The sparks fly and the two quickly form a bond. However, Jenning's family also has been keeping secrets. These secrets force him to leave town. Years pass and Andrews tries to move on with life, without Jennings. Fate forces the two back together when Jennings returns to Andrews for a magical favor. Andrews has to save Jennings or forever loose his lover.

Click here to download this title and others
 at a special discount  to Cafe Risque Readers! 


 

The Boy Who Came In From the Cold: A Story of Crushed...and Renewed Dreams

Ever had a dream? A fantasy? A big hope?

Sure you have. 
A hundred years ago, when I was a teenager, it was to be somehow transported to the Battlestar: Galactica universe so I could become Starbuck’s secret lover. The hot, sexy, gorgeous, original Starbuck, not the new revised unoriginal one.  
Hey, it was a fantasy! And the real beginning of me realizing I was gay. Apparently other boys did not collect pictures of male actors without a shirt on and keep them in a scrapbook. Who’da thunk it? 
I could not, of course, transport myself to a fictional universe, but I could fantasize about Dirk Benedict. Pretty unlikely that I could be his lover either, but at least he was a real person, can you dig it? And another gay clue I should have picked up on? But my real dream was to be a writer. More than anything. I was constantly writing stories and making up elaborate tales.


Todd Burton, the hero of my new novel, The Boy Who Came In From the Cold, had dreams. First he wanted to get away from his mentally and emotionally abusive stepfather. A man who had called Todd a faggot for most of his life—and the last thing Todd wanted was for the man to be right. Todd wanted to be a chef and learn under the world renowned Izar Goya. He wanted to find his own place and make a go of his life. So he left Buckman, the little town where he grew up, and headed to Kansas City. 

Where one by one his dreams were crushed. Izar threw him out of her restaurant when he asked her to be his teacher. His car broke down. He lost his job. And finally he was thrown out of his rat-trap of an apartment into a blizzard. 
Hopeless. Utterly hopeless. 
And then he met Gabe Richards. And through the kindness of a stranger, his luck began to turn. And Gabe? You reap what you sow. Helping a hopeless young man turns his life around as well. And that might also mean healing from some very deep wounds. 

My dreams were shattered. My day job really is a soul-sucking, dream-crushing place with no regard to its employees. But then I finally took a chance and did what I’d always dreamed of doing. I wrote a story and... 
I. Actually. Submitted. It! Four days later I had a contract!


Interestingly enough I was listening to a song over and over as I wrote that novella—Soul of the Mummy. That song was called “Right Outta Nowhere” by Christine Kane, and the central message of that song was, “Leap! And the net will appear.”  

So I took her advise, took a chance! I leapt. And I’ll be damned—the net appeared. 
And a stranger bought my first submission ever. And life has never been the same. I hope you will take a chance on my new novel, The Boy Who Came In From the Cold. 

You can find it right here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/advanced_search_result.php?keywords=the+boy+who+came&osCsid=98f3vmnqjflls0u9g8lrb44vu7&x=0&y=0 
But most of all I beg you…  Whatever your dream is, take a chance. It is never too late. 
Go for it! Leap! The net will appear! 
  Love and Namasté, BG Thomas  

Things that make me go 'WTF???' (aka - T.C. Blue is baffled... as usual)

Okay, this kind of shit pisses me off.

NO victims.

NO injuries.

NO property damage.

ONE MILLION DOLLARS bail.

Seriously?

http://www.nbcnews.com/id/52036072

So what do you think?

I'm truly interested to hear everyone's thoughts.

Is this level of "protection" justified, or should the police be applying this much attention to crimes WITH damages and injuries?

Winner: Hop Against Homophobia & Transphobia

Sophia Rose won her choice of ebook from my backlist. She was randomly chosen from the people who left a comment on this post. Congratulations, Sophia Rose! Please send me an e-mail to let me know your book choice!

- CCwww.cardenoc.com

Memorial Day by Cardeno C.

Today we remember all those who sacrificed. Thank you.

CC
www.cardenoc.com

On Monogamy, or lack thereof

In case nobody has picked up on this, I enjoy watching interview or documentary-edge youtube videos and comparing and contrasting them to what I know about romance.

Dan Savage is known for giving relationship advice, and some of the questions he gets are out of this world fascinating. This video about a lesbian asking how she can get her partner to consider an open relationship caught my attention because Dan's answer run's so contrary to what we tend to write in romance.

Writing about cheating and open relationships in romance can be skating on dangerous ice, because most readers want monogamy. If you're an author who writes menage or erotica you may have more free reign, maybe? I think I recall BG covered cheating a short while back.

Once in awhile I see this sort of thing handled well in romance (3 by Jacob Flores comes to mind - again, menage ..), but the subject matter can be complicated to handle. I did find Dan's answer very interesting, and he made some excellent points.




Have a happy weekend!
Love, Ellis

Frozen Yogurt and Closeted Movie Stars

Author Jeffery Self wrote 50 Shades of Gay after relocating to Los Angeles. “Ever since moving to Los Angeles, I've been fascinated by two things: frozen yogurt and closeted movie stars. There's something so sexy and mysterious about both. So I decided to write a book about one of them," remarked Self. His book, 50 Shades of Gay, is the tale of a young celebrity blogger, Alex Kirby, who gets to interview Grayson, a closeted Hollywood Superstar. Grayson is intrigued by young Alex, so Grayson brings Alex into his realm of kinky BDSM sex. In true 50 Shades style, Alex starts to fall for the older more powerful man. Alex finds himself enjoying the delights of submitting to Grayson when the unexpected happened--Alex starts to fall in love with the sex focused movie star. A real emotional connection always seems just out of reach and their emotional connection is inhibited by Grayson’s kinky sex preferences and Hollywood handlers.

This book has plenty of steamy, hot scenes with a heavy dash of BDSM; however, it is the love story of obstacles and emotional barriers that will stick with its readers. The tale of a Hollywood superstar that finds his authentic sexual self with the help of a young blogger is what makes this title fantastic.

The author, Jeffery Self, is a true creative. He acts and writes. His recent acting successes include guest appearances on Desperate Housewives, 90210, and 30 Rock.

To buy this title and others like it, visit Rainbow eBooks. Use the link below to enjoy a special discount!
 www.Rainbowebooks.com