Cardeno C.'s Blog, page 26
February 15, 2018
99 Problems
Happy Thursday! You've made it!This week, narrator John Solo talks about the difference between being driven, and being driven insane, as well as the long and winding pot-holes-as-big-as-your-house dirt road to work-life balance. Buckle up! --------------------------------------------------------------------------
I’ve got 99 problems but a job ain’t one… I’m 41 years old, and I just started using the word “career” to describe my work life a few years ago. I have a career now, not a job. Kinda’ feels like I’m adulting or something…
You see, there is a huge difference between the two. The esteemed comedian Chris Rock (he’s esteemed in my mind, and I’m the one writing this, so shove off!) has a great bit about this. I think it’s called, “Plate of Shrimp”. He talks about working a job in a restaurant as a kid, and how the time goes so slow… He worked as a dishwasher, scraping shrimp off the plates and counting the hours, minutes, seconds until he could go home. Then he talks about his career as a comedian, actor and writer, and how instead of wishing he was done working, he finds himself wishing for MORE time. There's never enough time in the day. I think he hit the shrimp on the head.
I’ve only talked about this with friends, but we’re all friends here, right? Good. Put on your therapist hat for a second, pull another glass of whatever the hell that stuff is (you should be ashamed of yourself!), and let me tell you of a time of high adventure!
(Editor’s note: The subsequent text has nothing to do with adventure)
I remember a time, less than a decade ago, when I was driving to an office building downtown 5 days a week. Think shirt and tie every day, half hour lunch breaks with some guy we called Lingering Larry (or was it BO Barry… I forget his name, but the smell remains...), and a boss that always tried to act 20 years younger than his hairline and viewed Office Space as a management training video. Don’t get me wrong, they paid well, and I was thankful for the job, but it was a job… I remember counting the hours until I could go home, until I could LIVE. The suffocation of doing someone else’s bidding for 9-10 hours a day, the monotony of the task itself, combined with my intense need just to BE MYSELF, just for a little while, was soul-stifling. It felt like a crushing weight upon my chest. I dreaded going there every day, which meant that, given that the majority of my week was spent there, I pretty much dreaded my life all the time. I vividly recall thinking several times, on my morning commute, that if I would just swerve a little bit to the left, into traffic, I may at least get a few hours off…
But, hey, didn’t mean to bring ya’ll down! See, it got better, which life inevitably seems to do if you just keep trying. Fast-forward to the present. My lovely wife and I decided several months ago that we needed some time off. Being small business owners now, we work. A lot. We started Falcon Sound Company close to five years ago, and we haven’t taken more than 3 consecutive days off since then (actually, now that I write this, I do remember going to a Pirate Festival in Savannah a couple of years ago, and I think we may have been gone 4 days...Arrrggghhh!!!).
In perfect me fashion, I decided if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing big. “Let’s take February off!”, I said casually. She gave me a look that said she wasn’t buying my tom-foolery, and I’d better remember to take the trash out. I gave her a suggestive wink. She shook her head in disgust. (we’ve been married a long time, kids… that was a whole conversation right there, ‘k?) Me, being me, assured her that it wouldn’t be a problem! Pshaw!!! One month off? We should be able to do that, right? After all, we do own the place.
See, and this is where having a career differs from having a job. If, while having a job, I had a month’s vacation time available, you can bet your pretty little mouth I would have taken it. Ok, who am I fooling in this crowd? When I was working a job I couldn’t stack up more than a weeks vacation to save my life… so lets say a week. The point is, hell or high water (what does that even mean, anyways?!?) I would have taken that week’s vacation, I may have called in sick the day after, and if my employer even remotely suggested I leave a day later
than scheduled or come back early I would have laughed heartily in his or her Office Spacing face. Having a career… well, needless to say, we didn’t take the month of February off. In fact, we didn’t even take a week off, although we did come close. 4 days. That’s what we took. 4 days. And I kinda’ worked a bit on day one, and maybe a little on the second day as well…
But, you know what? I don’t mind one little bit. And I didn’t skip my time off because I had to. It’s because I have a career. I absofreakinlutely LOVE what I do. Love it. When I go to bed at night I find myself excited about what I get to do the next day. When I wake up I sometimes get the urge to pinch myself to see if it’s real (not that… get your mind out of the gutter!!!). I haven’t felt the desire to swerve into traffic to get a sick day in years.
(Editor’s note : The author works from home.)
My goal in this post was to express how lucky I am that I get to do something that I want to do, that I care about and enjoy, every day, for a living. I wanted to make you understand the deep sense of gratitude that I feel to our fans, our clients, this wonderful community of truly amazing people that have gifted me with this smile I am wearing right now. I imagined all of you reading this and feeling closer to me, and me to you, envisioned you and me wrapping our arms around each other in a big cyberworld-energy love hug. But, after reading back through what I’ve written, I realize that perhaps all I have truly accomplished is talking about rotten shrimp, a flatulent friend, and my inability to do household chores in a punctual manner.
It’s all right. I’m a sucky writer. But at least I don’t have to go to a job tomorrow.
Find John Solo and Falcon Sound Company on Facebook, or at falconsoundcompany.comUntil next week, happy listening!
Check out John's newest narration,"The Omega's Secret Baby," by Ann-Katrin Byrde.
February 14, 2018
Happy Valentine's Day from Andrew Grey
Dominic and I celebrate Valentine's Day in a quiet way. Dominic usually buys me a small gift that he leaves somewhere in the house for me along with a wonderful card. Its a very sweet ritual. Over the years I have gotten Dominic chocolates, roses, tulips, and a number of different things. Dominic tends to go for small and quiet and me... well I go for flashy I guess.
The thing is for him and I, the presents aren't really important. Its the thought that counts and no matter what's in that gift bag on the counter in the kitchen, I know he loves me no matter what. And that's really all I need to know.
Happy Valentine's Day!!!!!
Ask Andrew will return next week, so send in your questions.
Ask Andrew is your chance to ask questions of a gay romance author. The questions can be about the writing process in general, writing sex scenes, gay men, sex, characters in romance, characters having sex... okay you probably get the picture. I promise to answer your questions as frankly and with as much humor as I possibly can.
So if you have a question, please send it to andrewgreybooks@comcast.net. This is different from my usual email so your questions don't get lost. I will answer one question a week.
Please remember this is meant to be all in fun. (I was going to say good, clean fun, but who wants that.) So send me your questions and let's see what mischief we can get into.
Visit Andrew on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrewgreybooks and you can join Andrew's fan group All The Way With Andrew Grey.
Follow him on Twitter: @andrewgreybooks
The thing is for him and I, the presents aren't really important. Its the thought that counts and no matter what's in that gift bag on the counter in the kitchen, I know he loves me no matter what. And that's really all I need to know.
Happy Valentine's Day!!!!!
Ask Andrew will return next week, so send in your questions.
Ask Andrew is your chance to ask questions of a gay romance author. The questions can be about the writing process in general, writing sex scenes, gay men, sex, characters in romance, characters having sex... okay you probably get the picture. I promise to answer your questions as frankly and with as much humor as I possibly can.So if you have a question, please send it to andrewgreybooks@comcast.net. This is different from my usual email so your questions don't get lost. I will answer one question a week.
Please remember this is meant to be all in fun. (I was going to say good, clean fun, but who wants that.) So send me your questions and let's see what mischief we can get into.
Visit Andrew on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrewgreybooks and you can join Andrew's fan group All The Way With Andrew Grey.
Follow him on Twitter: @andrewgreybooks
February 13, 2018
Valentine's Day Flash Fic with BA, Julia, Kiernan and Sean
Valentine's Day flash fiction for you!
BAMJ tossed Sonny the heart shaped box without comment, the stupid thing landing on the motel bed.
“What the fuck is this, Precious?”
“I know you know what these are, Sunshine. They sell them at Walmart.” MJ leaned back in the ratty old chair, short legs sprawled, giving him a view of the tiny hole at the crotch of MJ’s jeans.
“You’re the chocolate whore, remember?”
“Uh-huh. You’re going to be on your knees in a few anyway. Right here. Bring me a candy when you get here.”
Oh. Oh, his MJ did love him best. Sonny knew what that meant.
That meant there was a picture of a vintage muscle car in that box, the keys in place of a chocolate that MJ’d already eaten.
Sonny grinned over. “Happy V-Day, Precious. You’re good to me.”
MJ just nodded and curled one finger. “Bring the candy.”
Sonny and MJ are from the Road Trip series. Volume 2 releases Feb. 16 from Dreamspinner Press
Road Trip Collection
The course of love is a rough ride, but for ecoterrorist MJ, ridge runner Sonny, physicist Paddy, psychic Neil, genetically enhanced English professor Duncan, and the assassin known as Cowboy, the road to romance is a heart-stopping trip—one full of kidnappings, explosions, secret programs, and supersoldiers. They’re an awful ragged bunch to be considered heroes.
Under Pressure
Sonny and MJ’s retirement may be in jeopardy, but at least they’re together on a new boat—with no annoying hostages. Then Cowboy, MJ’s old friend, gets in touch, bringing with him a host of complications, including Professor Duncan, who has ties to the Program. A call for help from Paddy sets them all on a collision course with a deadly specter from the past. As MJ makes his plans, Sonny is shaken by the possibility of losing everything.
Walking on the Sun
Sonny is determined to raise hell to hunt for MJ—problem is, will MJ know anyone, or himself, once they catch up to him? Neil and Paddy are healing but reluctantly join the effort, as Cowboy and Duncan help Sonny prepare for a showdown. Sonny might be ragged, but he’s MJ’s hero, and he is not about to give up on the most important thing in his life, even if it kills him. Will everyone survive the last epic battle, or will they go out in a blaze of glory
First Edition of Under Pressure published by TOP SHELF: An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers, March 2009.
First Edition of Walking on the Sun published by TOP SHELF: An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers, September 2010.
https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/road-trip-vol-2-by-ba-tortuga-9345-b
Julia
“What the heck are you doing?” Peyton watched Grizz rubbing his back against a huge post just outside the arena.
“My back itches!” Grizz grunted and rumbled, butt wiggling and wagging.
“Well, I do have nails like glass, you know.”
Grizz glanced around. “We’re out in public.” He sounded a little scandalized.
“We are. You’ve ridden already. We can go to bed. I can scratch. Sip.”
Grizz’s pupils dilated, the big bear bouncing a little. “Please?”
“Come on, you weirdo.” Peyton led the way, sedately, to their trailer, where he opened the door to let Grizz through.
As soon as they got inside, his bear stripped off all that riding gear, ready to let Peyton go to town.
Shame, really. Peyton rather liked the chaps…
Book: Vampire Protection
Midnight Rodeo 8
Vampire Peyton gets into trouble. A lot. When he offends an entire East Coast clan of vampires up Boston way, he decides he needs a place to hide out for a bit. So he goes back to his Texas roots and calls upon his best friend, Cody Knight, to help him stay safe. Cody runs the Midnight Rodeo, Darque and Knight, and happily agrees to let Peyton come along, even assigning him a bodyguard.
Grizz is a bear shifter, big, strong, and maybe a little… well, bearlike. Who better to watch over Peyton and keep him out of trouble? If Peyton gets out of line, Cody figures, Grizz can just sit on him. Grizz has no idea how much work Peyton will be, or how Peyton will invade his heart. The problem is, Grizz is pretty sure he doesn’t need a beautiful vamp complicating his life. Can he and Peyton find their happy place before it’s too late, or will Peyton’s past catch up with him?
EPB
Amazon
Keirnan
Seti and Logan have always been one of my favorite couples, and the rerelease of Seti’s Heart at Dreamspinner Press has given me the chance to take them out, dust them off, and play with them again. Here’s a peek at how Logan tries to explain Valentine’s Day to the ever-pragmatic Seti. Happy V-Day, y’all!
“I do not understand, Logan. There is a day for love? Only one day?”
Logan chuckled, and rolled to his side. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked into Seti’s dark eyes. “We don’t just love on one day. Valentine’s Day is one we set aside to celebrate it. We exchange cards, and have nice, fancy dinners, and give each other flowers and gifts.”
“Why do you need these things to prove love? This is utter foolishness. I show my love for you every time I take you in my mouth or fill your body with mine. Or more, welcome you to enter me.” Seti huffed, obviously not convinced. “What more do flowers and food prove?”
Logan sighed and rolled to his back. “When you say it that way, I guess we don’t need it.”
Seti reached over and slipped his arm around Logan. With one flex of his powerful bicep, he pulled Logan on top of him. “I may not understand this Valentine’s Day, but I understand you very well, Logan. I can see this means much to you. Therefore, we will go to dinner on Valentine’s Day, and I will dress in one of your people’s suits, so we may eat at this fancy restaurant you favor. But right now, I will give you my present to show you how much I love you.”
Grinning, Seti reached for a deep kiss, and when his hand slipped beneath the band of Logan’s sleep pant, Logan knew exactly what that gift was going to be.
It was just what Logan wanted for Valentine’s Day…and every day thereafter.
Seti's Heart is available at Dreamspinner Press.
SeanThe Jarheads' Three Day Passes was my first published book. They wound up with six novels, a bunch of novellas and a ton of short stories. You can find the listing of them here.
Dick handed Rock and Rig each a box wrapped in paper with hearts on it.
Rock gasped exaggeratedly. “It’s not Valentine’s Day already.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Rig told him, looking unimpressed.
“What?” Rock went for innocent, although he wasn’t exactly sure how to pull off the look. He’d left innocent behind a whole lot of years ago.
“Aside from being assaulted by commercials and signs everywhere, we’re running a Valentine’s Day promotion at the gym,” Dick noted.
“You do this every year, pretend that you’ve forgotten to get Valentine’s Day gifts, and that it’s also our anniversary, then you pull something wonderful out of your ass.” Rig began to carefully work open the wrapping paper on his gift.
“Am I that predictable?” Rock asked.
Dick grinned. “That’s okay. It’s your thing.”
“Yeah? What’s your thing?”
“Pretty can always be counted on bringing the romance. And getting everyone naked.” Rig got his gift open and oohed over the heart-friendly cookbook, and the notice of reservations for three at their favorite steakhouse. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
Rock watched as Rig thanked Dick with a long kiss. Damn, they made him horny. He knew the pinky rings he’d had specially designed were going to go over well and he’d be getting his own kisses soon enough. It was just a matter of did he break out the little jewelry boxes now or during dinner?
“So, I’m pretending to forget and Dick is romance. What’s your thing?” he asked Rig when the kiss finally ended, both Rig and Dick’s lips slightly swollen, Dick’s cheeks full of color.
Rig didn’t hesitate. “Hot and cold running blow jobs.”
Rock didn’t hesitate either. “You win,” he proclaimed, spreading his legs to give Rig room.
He was a lucky fucking man, as both Rig and Dick pounced to make his Valentine’s Day perfect.
We wish you all a very happy Valentine's Day! May love and happiness follow you all year!
Visit our websites:Sean's is http://www.seanmichaelwrites.comJulia’s is http://www.juliatalbot.comBA’s is http://www.batortuga.comKiernan's is www.KiernanKelly.com
Facebook:Sean -- https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWritesJulia -- https://www.facebook.com/juliatalbotauthorBA -- https://www.facebook.com/batortugaKiernan -- https://www.facebook.com/kiernan.kelly
Seansmut fixes everything
February 11, 2018
Five Facts - The Winter Olympics at Pyeongchang
Yeah, this one isn't about writing. I'm excited about writing, but right now I'm more excited about the Winter Olympic Games.
I am not a huge sports fan in general. I watch some ice hockey, I enjoy baseball, I’m starting to appreciate football some after many years of not caring at all. I root for certain teams when I’m in a group of people who care— the Red Sox, the Cowboys, the Devils—but I’m not a “fan”. I don’t have and specific players I follow.
BUT! The Olympics come on, and suddenly, I am glued to my television.
As I write this I am watching the USA v. FIN women’s ice hockey game and I’m loving it (it aired at 2:30am so it’s recorded… don’t tell me how it ends!) Last night I watched ice skating, ski jumping, snowboarding, speed skating, women’s biathlon…
So, for those of you that are Olympics fans, here are some interesting stats:
There are fourteen openly gay “out” athletes at the 2018 Winter games Pyeongchang, which may seem like a crazy low number until you consider that is double the number in Sochi, when there were only seven. According to TIME, Freestyle skier, Gus Kenworthy, and figure skater, Adam Rippon, will become the first openly gay male athletes to compete at a Winter Olympics for the U.S.The estimated costs of the Pyeongchang games is $10 billion. The Sochi games were five times as expensive.The mascots are Soohorang, a white tiger, and Bandabi, an Asiatic black bear.There will be a Nigerian women’s bobsled team and Simidele Adeagbo will be the first Nigerian woman, the first African, *and* the first black woman to compete in the skeleton. Kenya and Madagascar have also sent their first female athletes to the winter games, and the US is sending Maame Biney, the first black woman to make the US speed skating team.Norway, with a population of only five million people, holds the record for the most medals at the Winter Olympics. Going into these games, they hold 329 (The US is second with 282), the bulk of which (107) are in cross country skiing (the US has 1 medal in cross country, earned by Bill Koch in 1976).
As I’ve been writing this, the US women beat Finland 3-1. YAY!
Have a great Sunday, everyone.
Jodi
jodipayne.net
Vote for Creative Processin the JABBIC cover contest, HERE!
February 10, 2018
Shadow's Edge Audiobook Coming Soon by S.C. Wynne
Hello all,
I've just finished production on my first audiobook, Shadow's Edge. It was a pretty painless process, partly because I chose a narrator who was extremely professional and easy to work with. His name is Kale Williams and I can't wait for you all to hear the finished product.
I'm working on Shadow's Return, the second book in the series, and I'm hoping it will be out at the end of February. As book two begins the two main characters are in a relationship together, but they don't really know each other very well. They're both so nervous about embarking on something serious they're skittish with each other. I wanted it to be kind of funny in the beginning as they work their way through the growing pains of their new relationship. But I also needed people to die and a mystery to unfold. It is quite a balancing act. :)
I'm going to give you a little snippet of what I have so far.
Excerpt:
Got lots of stuff to catch up on. Probably best if I just sleep at my place tonight. T.
I stared at that note from Thompson for a good ten minutes, trying to figure out if there was a hidden meaning to it. He’d stuck the post-it note on the coffee maker in the early dawn, and crept out without waking me when he’d left for work this morning.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and added some cream. Why hadn’t he woken me? Had he been trying to avoid some sort of confrontation? Did he think I’d throw a fit or something if he didn’t spend the night? I wasn’t like that. I squinted at the note scanning it with my mind, and wishing there was something there for me to pick up. But as usual, where Thompson was concerned, I couldn’t get a reading.
We’d been pretty hot and heavy for a few months now, but nothing was written in stone. We’d both said we loved each other once, ages ago, right after we’d almost died at the hands of that pink feather madman, Steven Pine. But since then, both of us had played it pretty close to the vest with our declarations of undying love. Had he changed his mind about me? Maybe once he’d spent some time with me doing things other than solving murders, he’d discovered I was boring. I felt boring. Maybe I wasn’t inventive enough in bed? I was sort of vanilla between the sheets. I knew that. But if he wanted something more exciting, why didn’t he just ask?
I sipped my coffee feeling anxious. I missed the comfortable intimacy I’d shared with William. He’d been very verbal about his emotions, and touchy feely. I’d had no doubt at all that William had adored me, and he’d known I’d felt the same toward him. But Thompson was more reserved and he kept his feelings to himself. He’d admitted to never having a long term relationship before, and sometimes that worried me. Had he stayed single for so long because he hadn’t met the right person? Or was he just not relationship material?
I jumped when my cell rang on the counter. My stomach fluttered when I saw it was Thompson himself. “Hello?” I answered.
“Liam?”
“Yep.” I wasn’t sure how to act suddenly. I didn’t like not knowing where I stood with people.
“We have a weird one. Feel like working today?”
I always preferred to work. “Sure.”
“I’ll swing by and get you in ten.” He hung up.
I sighed and hurried to go get dressed. Thompson never gave me much time once he’d actually called. I washed up, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, and ran my fingers through my hair. I didn’t need to look amazing, I just didn’t want to look like a hobo. I went back into the kitchen and gulped down the rest of my coffee. I’d just set the cup in the sink when Thompson knocked.
I opened the door and found Thompson standing there looking uptight. “Hey,” I said breathlessly, closing the door behind me. It was weird working with the person you also slept with. I was never sure if I should kiss him hello, or just shake hands. Today I opted for neither, and I just followed him to the car.
I climbed in, while he moved around to the driver’s side, and slid in behind the wheel. I crossed my hands in my lap, feeling tense. “You said this was a weird one?” I didn’t look at him as I spoke, feeling oddly shy.
“It is. It’s a little unsettling to be honest.”
“Awesome.”
“A body was discovered at Los Angles City College this morning.” He pulled onto the road, weaving in and out of traffic, and seeming impatient with anyone who was moving slower. His jaw was tight and his brows pulled together. “Pretty gruesome.”
“And it’s a homicide?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Okay.” I stared straight ahead. “I didn’t see anything.”
“That was my next question.” He glanced over quickly. “I thought maybe you would.”
“It’s been kind of quiet to be honest.” I gave a gruff laugh. I liked it when it was quiet. I needed a break from the yammering spirits and gory murders that often paraded through my brain.
“I’m glad for your peace of mind, but sorry for us. It would be helpful if you’d seen something.” He sighed.
I hated disappointing him, even though it meant life was better for me. “I’m sure I’ll see something when we get to the scene.” My stomach tensed at the thought of what awaited me. I was happy to help the cops try and solve murders, but it wasn’t for the weak of heart.
After about ten minutes, Thompson pulled into a parking lot, and we made our way across the campus. It wasn’t a huge school, and we quickly crossed the space, passing a large tree in the center of a quad surrounded by buildings. Students sat texting on their phones and eating snacks, apparently oblivious to the fact that a murder had taken place.
“She’s over there in the athletic building.” Thompson spoke quietly, lengthening his stride.
I had to hurry to keep up with him, and I was out of breath by the time we entered the big gymnasium. There were sheriffs at the door and they checked our credentials before letting us in. One of them seemed to know Thompson, and he introduced himself to me as Deputy Smith.
“We’ve never had anything like this happen. At least, not since I’ve been here.” Smith looked unnerved. “I mean, there have been a hand full of sexual assaults at most.” He swallowed. “But nothing like this.” He was definitely rattled. I could sense his frustration at being stuck on door duty, when all he really wanted to do was call his teenage daughter and check on her.
Something buzzed on the edge of my brain as we neared the actual crime scene. Ducking under the yellow tape, I put my hand to my head as the pressure built. There was a lot of energy circulating around the body, and it was hard to process it all at once.
“Anything?” Thompson’s gruff voice cut through the vibrations attacking me.
“Not sure yet.” I pressed my throbbing forehead. “The information is coming in too fast.”
“You want to back off?” His dark gaze seemed concerned as he stopped to look at me.
I scowled. “How would that be helpful?”
“I just don’t want you keeling over.”
I didn’t appreciate him acting like I was a delicate flower. “Let’s get closer to the body.” Psychic impressions seemed to blow away like cigarette smoke, and I needed to try and intercept the spirit quickly.
We rounded a stack of folding chairs, and there was the victim, lying sprawled on the polished gym floor. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open. A belt was looped around her neck, pulled so tight the skin puckered around the brown leather. My stomach rolled and I felt light headed, but I was damned if I was going to pass out after Thompson’s earlier comment. I took a deep breath and relaxed my mind, inviting the surrounding energy in. Slowly, a replay of the girl’s last moments began to flicker in front of my eyes like an old movie.
She was smiling at someone who was just out of the line of my vision. Her gaze was warm and her cheeks pink. She wasn’t scared at all of her companion, she was completely unaware of what was about to happen. I felt sick observing her innocence, knowing it was about to be destroyed. Then my vision skipped ahead, like a stone across the surface of a lake, to her screaming and trying to run. Some guy, who had his back to me, had her in a choke hold. She fought him valiantly, but he still managed to wrap the belt around her slender neck.
“I can’t see his face,” I said quickly, trying to say out loud everything that flashed in front of my eyes so Thompson could take notes. “He’s wearing gloves. She’s fighting him. God, she really tried to get away.” My stomach lurched at how hard she’d struggled.
I’m so sorry I only see things when it’s too late.
I concentrated on the vision, as she clawed at her assailant. At one point she broke free, and ran shrieking toward the exit. But he was faster, and he slammed her down and punched her until she was dazed and limp. Then he dragged her back to the corner where her body was now, and strangled the life from her as she kicked and gasped for air.
I was so immersed in the vision, I stumbled sideways, losing my bearings. Thompson grabbed my arm. “Can you see the perp at all?”
I shook my head. “Not really. Not his face. He has red hair. From his build I’d say he’s young; her age.”
“Probably a student here.”
The visions of her murder faded and I inched toward the body. Usually the spirit would appear briefly, and approach me with something that could be useful. We didn’t have full on conversations, but they usually dropped helpful details about their murderer. “What was her name?” I asked softly.
“Gloria.” Thompson’s voice was hushed.
“Gloria,” I whispered, moving closer to the body. Her wide eyes and gaping mouth made my skin crawl, but I stayed near her; reminding myself that that was just her shell, and that her spirit was around here somewhere. “Talk to me, Gloria.” There was nothing. “Come on, let us help you find justice.”
“Maybe it’s too late.” Thompson sounded resigned.
“Shhh.”
He grunted.
“Gloria tell me who did this to you.” I pressed my fingers to my temple. “Please help us. Don’t let him get away with this.”
I winced when she appeared in front of me like a sickly hologram, her skin gray and her confusion palpable. “I don’t understand. I just wanted someone to listen.” Her voice was weak and reedy.
“Okay.” I nodded. “Well, I’m listening.”
“I didn’t mean it.” She whimpered. “I didn’t want that. Not really.”
“Didn’t want what?” I nudged.
She frowned and touched her neck. “Not fair. Not fair.”
“Can you give me details, Gloria?”
Her mouth was a grim line. “Tricked me.”
“Give me his name.” Even I could hear the urgency in my voice. She wasn’t going to stay long, and I needed a name if she had one.
“Pine. Pine. Pine. Pine.”
“Pine? Like the tree?” I struggled with understanding her fragmented sentences.
“He said he was my friend.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t do anything to him. Why?”
“Do you have a name for me, Gloria? Is Pine the name of a person?”
“The angel made him do it,” she said, and then she disappeared.
“Gloria?” I called her name even though I knew she was gone. Her energy had evaporated completely.
Thompson grabbed my arm. “What? What did she say? Did you get a name?”
“Maybe.” I turned my confused gaze on him. “She… she said Pine.”
“I thought that was what you said.” He grimaced, looking non-plussed. “She actually said the word Pine?”
“Yes. But she was all over the place. It might have just been a tree for all I know.” My stomach clenched with an uneasy feeling.
“You’re sure she said Pine?”
“I just said I was.”
“Well…” He scratched his head. “What else did she say?”
I sighed. “She felt betrayed. That was very obvious.” I squinted. “And she said something about an angel making him do it.”
“An angel?” Thompson scowled.
I couldn’t shake a feeling of apprehension shrouding me. “He… he said something about being an angel. Remember?”
“He? You mean Steven Pine?” Thompson’s face tensed. “Liam, he’s in jail.”
“Yeah. I know. But he’s also the strongest fucking psychic I’ve ever met. Maybe he can reach out somehow.” I shivered and hugged myself.
“She must have got it wrong.”
I rubbed my stomach, feeling queasy. “Why would she just pull that name out of the blue? Spirits don’t lie and they don’t make stuff up.”
“Well, they can make mistakes, right? Perhaps she likes Pine trees.”
“She didn’t say it in a happy way.”
“Okay. Maybe she read about Steven Pine. His case has been all over the news. Maybe he was on her mind when she died.”
“It felt more personal.”
“But you saw the murderer. He had red hair and he was young. That’s what you said.”
“I know--” I frowned, trying to push away the chill that seemed embedded in my soul.
He raked a hand through his shaggy hair. “No way they let that nut case out. You’re letting your imagination run wild.” He pulled his cell from his pocket, and walked away with it pressed to his ear.
I moved away from the body. Gloria wouldn’t return, and I needed fresh air. I followed Thompson toward the exit, still feeling shaken. Maybe Thompson was right and I was letting my fear of Steven Pine get to me. He’d been a terrifying foe, and his name had been all over he newspapers recently because his lawyers were trying to hold up his trial with bogus legal technicalities. The Steven Pine case had been horrifyingly personal. He’d dragged me into his murderous rampage, and I guess it was possible I’d let the memory of that case seep into my current work.
Thompson hung up and faced me. “He’s still at Men’s Central, just like I thought.”
I squinted back toward the building we’d just left. “Okay.” I still felt uneasy. I’d never dealt with a psychic quite like Steven. I wasn’t really sure what he was capable of.
“I’m going to touch base with a few other people before we leave.” His gaze was emotionless.
“Go for it.”
While Thompson finished talking to anyone who’d been first on the scene, I stood to the side, trying to remember every detail of my interaction with Gloria, and typing it into the note pad app on my phone. There had been no witnesses to the actual murder. The school janitor had found the body when he’d opened up the gym early this morning. He’d said the place was locked and that there was no one around. The cops took his prints just to rule him out as a suspect, but I knew already he wasn’t our guy.
Eventually, Thompson indicated that he was ready to head out. We walked to his car in silence, and got in without a word. I didn’t bring up anything about how I felt like he was acting odd. I didn’t have the nerve to open that can of worms yet. He drove to the station, where he could write up a report and get the names and addresses of Gloria’s friends and family. The sooner we could talk to the people closest to her, the better.
I watched Thompson at his desk as he called people and set up meetings for later in the day. I didn’t like feeling uncertain about what we had. But the way he’d just left that note and not said goodbye this morning wasn’t like him. If there was one thing Thompson was, it was predictable. Whenever he deviated from his usual behavior, there was always a reason.
I had no idea what could have changed between now and last night. Everything had seemed just fine last evening. We’d talked a little bit about William because I’d come across an old photo album, and then we’d had dinner, fucked and gone to bed. Everything had been pretty damn perfect.
He cleared his throat. “I’m going to interview Gloria’s boyfriend. Did you want to tag along?”
I frowned. “Of course.” I always came with him on those sorts of interviews. Why was he suddenly questioning that?
He stood, pulling on his blazer. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to.”
“Since when?”
He shrugged and moved toward the exit. I hurried after him, feeling confused. When we got to the elevator it was crowded, so I couldn’t really ask him anything. By the time we got to his car, enough time had passed that it felt awkward to bring up how weird he was being, but I decided to do it anyway. Just like Thompson was always predictable, I was usually awkward.
As he pulled out of the parking structure, I shifted to face him. “Is something bugging you?”
He glanced at me, his expression guarded. “What do you mean?”
“You seem different.”
“I do?” He kept his eyes on the road.
“Why did you leave a note on the coffee maker?”
“Did you not want me to leave you a note?”
I sighed. “You didn’t say goodbye. You always say goodbye.”
A muscle in his jaw tensed. “I didn’t want to wake you. You were deeply asleep and you have trouble sleeping.”
“So you were just being considerate?”
“Yep.”
“Promise?”
“If you want me to wake you up next time, I will.”
Hopefully you enjoyed that excerpt! If you're interested in reading book one before the second one comes out, you can buy it at AMAZON and OTHER PLACES.
See you next week! Have a wonderful weekend.
S.C.
www.sc-wynne.com
I've just finished production on my first audiobook, Shadow's Edge. It was a pretty painless process, partly because I chose a narrator who was extremely professional and easy to work with. His name is Kale Williams and I can't wait for you all to hear the finished product.
I'm working on Shadow's Return, the second book in the series, and I'm hoping it will be out at the end of February. As book two begins the two main characters are in a relationship together, but they don't really know each other very well. They're both so nervous about embarking on something serious they're skittish with each other. I wanted it to be kind of funny in the beginning as they work their way through the growing pains of their new relationship. But I also needed people to die and a mystery to unfold. It is quite a balancing act. :)
I'm going to give you a little snippet of what I have so far.
Excerpt:
Got lots of stuff to catch up on. Probably best if I just sleep at my place tonight. T.
I stared at that note from Thompson for a good ten minutes, trying to figure out if there was a hidden meaning to it. He’d stuck the post-it note on the coffee maker in the early dawn, and crept out without waking me when he’d left for work this morning.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and added some cream. Why hadn’t he woken me? Had he been trying to avoid some sort of confrontation? Did he think I’d throw a fit or something if he didn’t spend the night? I wasn’t like that. I squinted at the note scanning it with my mind, and wishing there was something there for me to pick up. But as usual, where Thompson was concerned, I couldn’t get a reading.
We’d been pretty hot and heavy for a few months now, but nothing was written in stone. We’d both said we loved each other once, ages ago, right after we’d almost died at the hands of that pink feather madman, Steven Pine. But since then, both of us had played it pretty close to the vest with our declarations of undying love. Had he changed his mind about me? Maybe once he’d spent some time with me doing things other than solving murders, he’d discovered I was boring. I felt boring. Maybe I wasn’t inventive enough in bed? I was sort of vanilla between the sheets. I knew that. But if he wanted something more exciting, why didn’t he just ask?
I sipped my coffee feeling anxious. I missed the comfortable intimacy I’d shared with William. He’d been very verbal about his emotions, and touchy feely. I’d had no doubt at all that William had adored me, and he’d known I’d felt the same toward him. But Thompson was more reserved and he kept his feelings to himself. He’d admitted to never having a long term relationship before, and sometimes that worried me. Had he stayed single for so long because he hadn’t met the right person? Or was he just not relationship material?
I jumped when my cell rang on the counter. My stomach fluttered when I saw it was Thompson himself. “Hello?” I answered.
“Liam?”
“Yep.” I wasn’t sure how to act suddenly. I didn’t like not knowing where I stood with people.
“We have a weird one. Feel like working today?”
I always preferred to work. “Sure.”
“I’ll swing by and get you in ten.” He hung up.
I sighed and hurried to go get dressed. Thompson never gave me much time once he’d actually called. I washed up, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, and ran my fingers through my hair. I didn’t need to look amazing, I just didn’t want to look like a hobo. I went back into the kitchen and gulped down the rest of my coffee. I’d just set the cup in the sink when Thompson knocked.
I opened the door and found Thompson standing there looking uptight. “Hey,” I said breathlessly, closing the door behind me. It was weird working with the person you also slept with. I was never sure if I should kiss him hello, or just shake hands. Today I opted for neither, and I just followed him to the car.
I climbed in, while he moved around to the driver’s side, and slid in behind the wheel. I crossed my hands in my lap, feeling tense. “You said this was a weird one?” I didn’t look at him as I spoke, feeling oddly shy.
“It is. It’s a little unsettling to be honest.”
“Awesome.”
“A body was discovered at Los Angles City College this morning.” He pulled onto the road, weaving in and out of traffic, and seeming impatient with anyone who was moving slower. His jaw was tight and his brows pulled together. “Pretty gruesome.”
“And it’s a homicide?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Okay.” I stared straight ahead. “I didn’t see anything.”
“That was my next question.” He glanced over quickly. “I thought maybe you would.”
“It’s been kind of quiet to be honest.” I gave a gruff laugh. I liked it when it was quiet. I needed a break from the yammering spirits and gory murders that often paraded through my brain.
“I’m glad for your peace of mind, but sorry for us. It would be helpful if you’d seen something.” He sighed.
I hated disappointing him, even though it meant life was better for me. “I’m sure I’ll see something when we get to the scene.” My stomach tensed at the thought of what awaited me. I was happy to help the cops try and solve murders, but it wasn’t for the weak of heart.
After about ten minutes, Thompson pulled into a parking lot, and we made our way across the campus. It wasn’t a huge school, and we quickly crossed the space, passing a large tree in the center of a quad surrounded by buildings. Students sat texting on their phones and eating snacks, apparently oblivious to the fact that a murder had taken place.
“She’s over there in the athletic building.” Thompson spoke quietly, lengthening his stride.
I had to hurry to keep up with him, and I was out of breath by the time we entered the big gymnasium. There were sheriffs at the door and they checked our credentials before letting us in. One of them seemed to know Thompson, and he introduced himself to me as Deputy Smith.
“We’ve never had anything like this happen. At least, not since I’ve been here.” Smith looked unnerved. “I mean, there have been a hand full of sexual assaults at most.” He swallowed. “But nothing like this.” He was definitely rattled. I could sense his frustration at being stuck on door duty, when all he really wanted to do was call his teenage daughter and check on her.
Something buzzed on the edge of my brain as we neared the actual crime scene. Ducking under the yellow tape, I put my hand to my head as the pressure built. There was a lot of energy circulating around the body, and it was hard to process it all at once.
“Anything?” Thompson’s gruff voice cut through the vibrations attacking me.
“Not sure yet.” I pressed my throbbing forehead. “The information is coming in too fast.”
“You want to back off?” His dark gaze seemed concerned as he stopped to look at me.
I scowled. “How would that be helpful?”
“I just don’t want you keeling over.”
I didn’t appreciate him acting like I was a delicate flower. “Let’s get closer to the body.” Psychic impressions seemed to blow away like cigarette smoke, and I needed to try and intercept the spirit quickly.
We rounded a stack of folding chairs, and there was the victim, lying sprawled on the polished gym floor. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open. A belt was looped around her neck, pulled so tight the skin puckered around the brown leather. My stomach rolled and I felt light headed, but I was damned if I was going to pass out after Thompson’s earlier comment. I took a deep breath and relaxed my mind, inviting the surrounding energy in. Slowly, a replay of the girl’s last moments began to flicker in front of my eyes like an old movie.
She was smiling at someone who was just out of the line of my vision. Her gaze was warm and her cheeks pink. She wasn’t scared at all of her companion, she was completely unaware of what was about to happen. I felt sick observing her innocence, knowing it was about to be destroyed. Then my vision skipped ahead, like a stone across the surface of a lake, to her screaming and trying to run. Some guy, who had his back to me, had her in a choke hold. She fought him valiantly, but he still managed to wrap the belt around her slender neck.
“I can’t see his face,” I said quickly, trying to say out loud everything that flashed in front of my eyes so Thompson could take notes. “He’s wearing gloves. She’s fighting him. God, she really tried to get away.” My stomach lurched at how hard she’d struggled.
I’m so sorry I only see things when it’s too late.
I concentrated on the vision, as she clawed at her assailant. At one point she broke free, and ran shrieking toward the exit. But he was faster, and he slammed her down and punched her until she was dazed and limp. Then he dragged her back to the corner where her body was now, and strangled the life from her as she kicked and gasped for air.
I was so immersed in the vision, I stumbled sideways, losing my bearings. Thompson grabbed my arm. “Can you see the perp at all?”
I shook my head. “Not really. Not his face. He has red hair. From his build I’d say he’s young; her age.”
“Probably a student here.”
The visions of her murder faded and I inched toward the body. Usually the spirit would appear briefly, and approach me with something that could be useful. We didn’t have full on conversations, but they usually dropped helpful details about their murderer. “What was her name?” I asked softly.
“Gloria.” Thompson’s voice was hushed.
“Gloria,” I whispered, moving closer to the body. Her wide eyes and gaping mouth made my skin crawl, but I stayed near her; reminding myself that that was just her shell, and that her spirit was around here somewhere. “Talk to me, Gloria.” There was nothing. “Come on, let us help you find justice.”
“Maybe it’s too late.” Thompson sounded resigned.
“Shhh.”
He grunted.
“Gloria tell me who did this to you.” I pressed my fingers to my temple. “Please help us. Don’t let him get away with this.”
I winced when she appeared in front of me like a sickly hologram, her skin gray and her confusion palpable. “I don’t understand. I just wanted someone to listen.” Her voice was weak and reedy.
“Okay.” I nodded. “Well, I’m listening.”
“I didn’t mean it.” She whimpered. “I didn’t want that. Not really.”
“Didn’t want what?” I nudged.
She frowned and touched her neck. “Not fair. Not fair.”
“Can you give me details, Gloria?”
Her mouth was a grim line. “Tricked me.”
“Give me his name.” Even I could hear the urgency in my voice. She wasn’t going to stay long, and I needed a name if she had one.
“Pine. Pine. Pine. Pine.”
“Pine? Like the tree?” I struggled with understanding her fragmented sentences.
“He said he was my friend.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t do anything to him. Why?”
“Do you have a name for me, Gloria? Is Pine the name of a person?”
“The angel made him do it,” she said, and then she disappeared.
“Gloria?” I called her name even though I knew she was gone. Her energy had evaporated completely.
Thompson grabbed my arm. “What? What did she say? Did you get a name?”
“Maybe.” I turned my confused gaze on him. “She… she said Pine.”
“I thought that was what you said.” He grimaced, looking non-plussed. “She actually said the word Pine?”
“Yes. But she was all over the place. It might have just been a tree for all I know.” My stomach clenched with an uneasy feeling.
“You’re sure she said Pine?”
“I just said I was.”
“Well…” He scratched his head. “What else did she say?”
I sighed. “She felt betrayed. That was very obvious.” I squinted. “And she said something about an angel making him do it.”
“An angel?” Thompson scowled.
I couldn’t shake a feeling of apprehension shrouding me. “He… he said something about being an angel. Remember?”
“He? You mean Steven Pine?” Thompson’s face tensed. “Liam, he’s in jail.”
“Yeah. I know. But he’s also the strongest fucking psychic I’ve ever met. Maybe he can reach out somehow.” I shivered and hugged myself.
“She must have got it wrong.”
I rubbed my stomach, feeling queasy. “Why would she just pull that name out of the blue? Spirits don’t lie and they don’t make stuff up.”
“Well, they can make mistakes, right? Perhaps she likes Pine trees.”
“She didn’t say it in a happy way.”
“Okay. Maybe she read about Steven Pine. His case has been all over the news. Maybe he was on her mind when she died.”
“It felt more personal.”
“But you saw the murderer. He had red hair and he was young. That’s what you said.”
“I know--” I frowned, trying to push away the chill that seemed embedded in my soul.
He raked a hand through his shaggy hair. “No way they let that nut case out. You’re letting your imagination run wild.” He pulled his cell from his pocket, and walked away with it pressed to his ear.
I moved away from the body. Gloria wouldn’t return, and I needed fresh air. I followed Thompson toward the exit, still feeling shaken. Maybe Thompson was right and I was letting my fear of Steven Pine get to me. He’d been a terrifying foe, and his name had been all over he newspapers recently because his lawyers were trying to hold up his trial with bogus legal technicalities. The Steven Pine case had been horrifyingly personal. He’d dragged me into his murderous rampage, and I guess it was possible I’d let the memory of that case seep into my current work.
Thompson hung up and faced me. “He’s still at Men’s Central, just like I thought.”
I squinted back toward the building we’d just left. “Okay.” I still felt uneasy. I’d never dealt with a psychic quite like Steven. I wasn’t really sure what he was capable of.
“I’m going to touch base with a few other people before we leave.” His gaze was emotionless.
“Go for it.”
While Thompson finished talking to anyone who’d been first on the scene, I stood to the side, trying to remember every detail of my interaction with Gloria, and typing it into the note pad app on my phone. There had been no witnesses to the actual murder. The school janitor had found the body when he’d opened up the gym early this morning. He’d said the place was locked and that there was no one around. The cops took his prints just to rule him out as a suspect, but I knew already he wasn’t our guy.
Eventually, Thompson indicated that he was ready to head out. We walked to his car in silence, and got in without a word. I didn’t bring up anything about how I felt like he was acting odd. I didn’t have the nerve to open that can of worms yet. He drove to the station, where he could write up a report and get the names and addresses of Gloria’s friends and family. The sooner we could talk to the people closest to her, the better.
I watched Thompson at his desk as he called people and set up meetings for later in the day. I didn’t like feeling uncertain about what we had. But the way he’d just left that note and not said goodbye this morning wasn’t like him. If there was one thing Thompson was, it was predictable. Whenever he deviated from his usual behavior, there was always a reason.
I had no idea what could have changed between now and last night. Everything had seemed just fine last evening. We’d talked a little bit about William because I’d come across an old photo album, and then we’d had dinner, fucked and gone to bed. Everything had been pretty damn perfect.
He cleared his throat. “I’m going to interview Gloria’s boyfriend. Did you want to tag along?”
I frowned. “Of course.” I always came with him on those sorts of interviews. Why was he suddenly questioning that?
He stood, pulling on his blazer. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to.”
“Since when?”
He shrugged and moved toward the exit. I hurried after him, feeling confused. When we got to the elevator it was crowded, so I couldn’t really ask him anything. By the time we got to his car, enough time had passed that it felt awkward to bring up how weird he was being, but I decided to do it anyway. Just like Thompson was always predictable, I was usually awkward.
As he pulled out of the parking structure, I shifted to face him. “Is something bugging you?”
He glanced at me, his expression guarded. “What do you mean?”
“You seem different.”
“I do?” He kept his eyes on the road.
“Why did you leave a note on the coffee maker?”
“Did you not want me to leave you a note?”
I sighed. “You didn’t say goodbye. You always say goodbye.”
A muscle in his jaw tensed. “I didn’t want to wake you. You were deeply asleep and you have trouble sleeping.”
“So you were just being considerate?”
“Yep.”
“Promise?”
“If you want me to wake you up next time, I will.”
Hopefully you enjoyed that excerpt! If you're interested in reading book one before the second one comes out, you can buy it at AMAZON and OTHER PLACES.
See you next week! Have a wonderful weekend.
S.C.
www.sc-wynne.com
February 9, 2018
My publishing journey and fear by Felice Stevens
It's two weeks until I publish Perfect and that means the questions start. Will people read it? Will they like it? Have I done everything possible to showcase these characters whom I've spent countless hours with to make people want to read their story? Will they love them like I do?
That doesn't even encompass the uncertainty now of publishing—will Amazon hold up the publishing process for some bizarre reason even they don't understand, will it be pirated (the answer is yes) should I do KU or go wide...
That fear is the same from when my first book was published to this, my 24th book. Twenty-four books? That's crazy to me, since I almost gave up.
I'd always wanted to be a writer. I wrote poems in elementary school and short stories throughout high school. My high school English teacher was the Pulitzer-prize winning Frank McCourt and when he told me never to stop writing (and I have that in my high school year book) I tucked it away and would look at it every once in a while for inspiration.
But school and life got in the way and it wasn't until 2013 that I listed to Mr. McCourt. I was laid up from surgery and home from work for a month and reading non-stop. I finally took that plunge. I had always read romance and some of my friends urged me to try. I started writing. I was accepted to a romance critique group with some of the biggest names in historical romance, joined RWA and took classes on craft: synopsis writing, deep POV, story arc, etc and threw out everything I had already written. I had in mind a Regency Historical series of four friends—a Duke, a Marquess and two Earls. I studied the Regency period and I joined the Beau Monde Group. I ran a blog, interviewed all the biggest names in Regency romance and even became an Avon Addict—a super reader/reviewer and got to meet all my favorite authors.
And I kept writing until I was finished with my first book: The Passion of the Duke (I know, I need a new title). I sent it for editing and critique and rewrote and rewrote. Nervous, I joined Query Tracker, researched agents and sent out query letter after query letter. Many came back with "I'm sorry, historical romance isn't really selling." or "This isn't what we're looking for." It wasn't easy to be rejected over and over but I swallowed my pride and my fear and sent out more.
I also submitted the book to Pitch Wars on Twitter and to my shock I was chosen. My mentor and I went over the book and it was requested by several agents. Yay! I thought. It's going to happen. But one agent said she didn't think it would sell. Another agent said she was passing on this book but wanted to see what else I had. Both of them said they loved my voice.
Discouraged, I nevertheless continued with my writing and wrote two more Regency books. But by that time I'd discovered gay romance and fell in love with the genre With some regret I set aside my historicals and wrote my book, Rescued. I submitted that to several publishing houses specializing in gay romance and it was rejected. At that point I thought of giving up. I was tired of rejection. I was afraid I would never see my book published. At that time self-publishing was in its infancy and not something I thought about doing.
Finally, in March of 2014, I received an email from Loose Id that they wanted to publish Rescued. I will never forget that feeling.
Crazy as it was, Rescued was published and went to number one. For the next month or so remained there or at number two. No KU as it wasn't a factor then. By that point I was writing the Hell and Back series and thought to try and submit A Walk Through Fire to other publishers. I did and it was rejected. It was at that point, that the idea of self publishing began to look more appealing. After the last Hell and Back book was published I became fully self published. It didn't get any easier. The life of a self-publisher author is stressful and costly and the fear of rejection, this time by readers, remains.
With each book I release I feel the same fear as when I sent my manuscripts for querying. I don't think the fear has ever left me. Maybe other authors don't feel like this; maybe they are more confident than I. I'm sure it's true. It's not that I'm not confident in my work. When I publish a book it is the best I can give. I often say to my other author friends, "is it weird to fall in love with your characters?" Because to me, each character is real. I agonize over their stories; the plot, the romance, the secondary characters.
I'm always afraid I'm letting my characters down if the book doesn't sell. And while I'm beyond fortunate to have had some success, I don't ever take it for granted. The publishing industry has undergone seismic changes these past four years since I was published I don't think anyone really knows what will happen.
One thing I know is that this fear will never prevent me from writing my books. Will people hate my books? Absolutely. Will they get things wrong about my books in reviews that I want to correct but won't? You bet. Will they say awful things about me and my writing ability in reviews. Yes again. Been there done that. I'm not fearful of that. I have never let anyone's opinion prevent me from making my own decisions about books, movies, or restaurants.
But to those who are fearful about pushing publish and think it gets easier, it hasn't for me. But if you love writing, you can't let that stop you. You have to put your heart in someone else's hands and let the book soar. If you don't no one will ever have that chance to fall in love with your words and ideas. Because for every person who doesn't like your book, there will be someone who loves it. And for every review that tears your confidence down, there will be an email or a message from a reader who says "thank you for writing that book. I could relate. That was me. It made me cry." think of their fear.
So whether Amazon becomes more or less powerful, or Barnes and Noble stays afloat or succumbs, I know we as authors and readers will roll with it and figure it all out.
Is it scary? Sure. But I couldn't image doing anything else.
That doesn't even encompass the uncertainty now of publishing—will Amazon hold up the publishing process for some bizarre reason even they don't understand, will it be pirated (the answer is yes) should I do KU or go wide...
That fear is the same from when my first book was published to this, my 24th book. Twenty-four books? That's crazy to me, since I almost gave up.
I'd always wanted to be a writer. I wrote poems in elementary school and short stories throughout high school. My high school English teacher was the Pulitzer-prize winning Frank McCourt and when he told me never to stop writing (and I have that in my high school year book) I tucked it away and would look at it every once in a while for inspiration.
But school and life got in the way and it wasn't until 2013 that I listed to Mr. McCourt. I was laid up from surgery and home from work for a month and reading non-stop. I finally took that plunge. I had always read romance and some of my friends urged me to try. I started writing. I was accepted to a romance critique group with some of the biggest names in historical romance, joined RWA and took classes on craft: synopsis writing, deep POV, story arc, etc and threw out everything I had already written. I had in mind a Regency Historical series of four friends—a Duke, a Marquess and two Earls. I studied the Regency period and I joined the Beau Monde Group. I ran a blog, interviewed all the biggest names in Regency romance and even became an Avon Addict—a super reader/reviewer and got to meet all my favorite authors.
And I kept writing until I was finished with my first book: The Passion of the Duke (I know, I need a new title). I sent it for editing and critique and rewrote and rewrote. Nervous, I joined Query Tracker, researched agents and sent out query letter after query letter. Many came back with "I'm sorry, historical romance isn't really selling." or "This isn't what we're looking for." It wasn't easy to be rejected over and over but I swallowed my pride and my fear and sent out more.
I also submitted the book to Pitch Wars on Twitter and to my shock I was chosen. My mentor and I went over the book and it was requested by several agents. Yay! I thought. It's going to happen. But one agent said she didn't think it would sell. Another agent said she was passing on this book but wanted to see what else I had. Both of them said they loved my voice.
Discouraged, I nevertheless continued with my writing and wrote two more Regency books. But by that time I'd discovered gay romance and fell in love with the genre With some regret I set aside my historicals and wrote my book, Rescued. I submitted that to several publishing houses specializing in gay romance and it was rejected. At that point I thought of giving up. I was tired of rejection. I was afraid I would never see my book published. At that time self-publishing was in its infancy and not something I thought about doing.
Finally, in March of 2014, I received an email from Loose Id that they wanted to publish Rescued. I will never forget that feeling.
Crazy as it was, Rescued was published and went to number one. For the next month or so remained there or at number two. No KU as it wasn't a factor then. By that point I was writing the Hell and Back series and thought to try and submit A Walk Through Fire to other publishers. I did and it was rejected. It was at that point, that the idea of self publishing began to look more appealing. After the last Hell and Back book was published I became fully self published. It didn't get any easier. The life of a self-publisher author is stressful and costly and the fear of rejection, this time by readers, remains.
With each book I release I feel the same fear as when I sent my manuscripts for querying. I don't think the fear has ever left me. Maybe other authors don't feel like this; maybe they are more confident than I. I'm sure it's true. It's not that I'm not confident in my work. When I publish a book it is the best I can give. I often say to my other author friends, "is it weird to fall in love with your characters?" Because to me, each character is real. I agonize over their stories; the plot, the romance, the secondary characters.
I'm always afraid I'm letting my characters down if the book doesn't sell. And while I'm beyond fortunate to have had some success, I don't ever take it for granted. The publishing industry has undergone seismic changes these past four years since I was published I don't think anyone really knows what will happen.
One thing I know is that this fear will never prevent me from writing my books. Will people hate my books? Absolutely. Will they get things wrong about my books in reviews that I want to correct but won't? You bet. Will they say awful things about me and my writing ability in reviews. Yes again. Been there done that. I'm not fearful of that. I have never let anyone's opinion prevent me from making my own decisions about books, movies, or restaurants.
But to those who are fearful about pushing publish and think it gets easier, it hasn't for me. But if you love writing, you can't let that stop you. You have to put your heart in someone else's hands and let the book soar. If you don't no one will ever have that chance to fall in love with your words and ideas. Because for every person who doesn't like your book, there will be someone who loves it. And for every review that tears your confidence down, there will be an email or a message from a reader who says "thank you for writing that book. I could relate. That was me. It made me cry." think of their fear.
So whether Amazon becomes more or less powerful, or Barnes and Noble stays afloat or succumbs, I know we as authors and readers will roll with it and figure it all out.
Is it scary? Sure. But I couldn't image doing anything else.
February 8, 2018
This has been an exciting, busy week at Falcon Sound Comp...
This has been an exciting, busy week at Falcon Sound Company!Yesterday, the finalists in the 2018 ABR Audiobook Listener's Choice Awards were announced, and we have two books that made it to the finals!
This is the first year for the contest that is specifically geared toward indie authors, publishers, and audiobook production studios. Finalists were chosen in 17 categories, including the "Paranormal" and the "Collections" categories our books are included in. The winners in each category will now be decided by listener votes cast this month.
"The Well," is a finalist in the Paranormal category. It is a MM Romance/scary ghost story/murder mystery by Marie Sexton, and is narrated by John Solo.
"Wine, Women, and Song" is a finalist in the Collections category. It is a collection of the short story adventures of Bubba the Monster Hunter, by John G. Hartness, and it is also narrated by John Solo.
For a list of some of the best indie audiobooks of the past year, head on over to AudioBook Reviewer and check out the finalists in all the different categories. If while you're there, you happen to cast a vote in favor of one of our finalists, we would certainly appreciate it! In the meantime, find Falcon Sound Company on Facebook and at www.falconsoundcompany.com
See you next week with our regularly scheduled audiobook goodness for all!
February 7, 2018
Smoldering Flame from Andrew Grey - Coming Soon
A story can come from anywhere. Cleansing Flame which releases February 13, was inspired by a post I read online about a self act of kindness and caring and how that led to happiness in his life. I use that as the basis for this entire novel. It's truly amazing how one single act of kindness and gentleness can bring out so much goodness for the recipient as well as the giver.
Blurb/Synopsis:
Sometimes the strongest flames take the longest to ignite.
Firefighter Dean’s life revolves around his very ill son, Sammy. Caring for Sammy and working to make ends meet leave Dean time for little else, and romance isn’t something he can even consider—no matter how much he longs for someone special to join their family. Because money is tight, Dean couldn’t be more grateful to the photographer who does Sammy’s session free of charge.
After growing up in the foster care system, Marco knows how to rely on himself, and his hard work is about to pay off—he’s poised on the cusp of fame and success he could only have imagined as a lonely child. When Dean brings Sammy into Marco’s studio, Marco can see they’re struggling, and both the boy and his father stir Marco’s heart. The slow burn between the two men isn’t something either expected, but neither wants to lose the possibility of a loving future. With Dean’s dangerous and possibly life-threatening career and Marco’s demanding one, can romance and forever find a place to fit?
Purchase Link
Excerpt:
“Dean, why don’t you come back?” Marco spoke softly, but Sammy woke and got down. Taking the handle of his oxygen tank, he walked toward the back. His eyes widened and a smile formed on his lips when he saw the Dalmatian. He padded over to it and hugged the stuffed toy. It was a good foot taller than Sammy, but he wrapped his arms around it anyway.
“Daddy! This is like Louie. Only lots bigger and not alive.” Sammy turned, grinning, and Marco pursed his lips and swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“Do you want to have your picture taken with him?” Marco asked.
“Can I?” Sammy bounced for a few seconds and then seemed to tire a little.
“Sure,” Dean said, smiling.
Marco got into position and told Sammy how to stand, standing him with the oxygen tank behind the dog’s front legs. It was nearly completely hidden, yet close enough that Sammy wouldn’t have any issues.
“Can you smile for me?” Marco asked, and Sammy grinned. Marco snapped the pictures, one after another. “Stay right there.” He hurried to the prop closet and returned with a fireman’s hat. He put it on Sammy and took more pictures.
“Daddy’s a fireman.” Excited, Sammy was barely able to stand still, even though his energy faded quickly.
Marco went through a number of poses and then asked Dean to step in as well. Dean knelt behind the dog, and Marco got some wonderful pictures of the two of them. They smiled, and Sammy laughed and giggled. Only Marco’s professionalism kept him behind the camera and separated from the scene in front of him. He took all the pictures with the dog he needed and then got some of just Dean and Sammy together. They were incredibly photogenic, their smiles leaping into the camera.
When Sammy grew too tired to continue, Marco wound it down and then snapped a picture of Sammy alone, looking straight at him.
“You did great,” Marco said as Sammy sat down next to his tank, leaning on it, closing his eyes. Marco waited a few seconds, then took one last picture of him before putting the camera aside. “I hope he isn’t too worn out.”
Dean smiled. “You made him very happy.” He walked to where Sammy sat and carefully lifted him into his arms. Sammy curled right against his chest and had to be asleep.
Marco led him out front and sat at the computer. “It will take me a few days to get the pictures ready for you. Can you give me an email address? I’ll send you a link to the finished images so you can have them printed.”
Dean gave him the information. “How much do I owe you?” He fidgeted, trying to get out his wallet.
Marco shook his head. “Nothing.”
Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation. Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing) He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Author Links Amazon Author Page Barnes and Noble Page Dreamspinner Press Facebook Facebook Group All the Way with Andrew Grey Goodreads Twitter@andrewgreybooks Website
Blurb/Synopsis:
Sometimes the strongest flames take the longest to ignite.
Firefighter Dean’s life revolves around his very ill son, Sammy. Caring for Sammy and working to make ends meet leave Dean time for little else, and romance isn’t something he can even consider—no matter how much he longs for someone special to join their family. Because money is tight, Dean couldn’t be more grateful to the photographer who does Sammy’s session free of charge.
After growing up in the foster care system, Marco knows how to rely on himself, and his hard work is about to pay off—he’s poised on the cusp of fame and success he could only have imagined as a lonely child. When Dean brings Sammy into Marco’s studio, Marco can see they’re struggling, and both the boy and his father stir Marco’s heart. The slow burn between the two men isn’t something either expected, but neither wants to lose the possibility of a loving future. With Dean’s dangerous and possibly life-threatening career and Marco’s demanding one, can romance and forever find a place to fit?
Purchase Link
Excerpt:
“Dean, why don’t you come back?” Marco spoke softly, but Sammy woke and got down. Taking the handle of his oxygen tank, he walked toward the back. His eyes widened and a smile formed on his lips when he saw the Dalmatian. He padded over to it and hugged the stuffed toy. It was a good foot taller than Sammy, but he wrapped his arms around it anyway.
“Daddy! This is like Louie. Only lots bigger and not alive.” Sammy turned, grinning, and Marco pursed his lips and swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“Do you want to have your picture taken with him?” Marco asked.
“Can I?” Sammy bounced for a few seconds and then seemed to tire a little.
“Sure,” Dean said, smiling.
Marco got into position and told Sammy how to stand, standing him with the oxygen tank behind the dog’s front legs. It was nearly completely hidden, yet close enough that Sammy wouldn’t have any issues.
“Can you smile for me?” Marco asked, and Sammy grinned. Marco snapped the pictures, one after another. “Stay right there.” He hurried to the prop closet and returned with a fireman’s hat. He put it on Sammy and took more pictures.
“Daddy’s a fireman.” Excited, Sammy was barely able to stand still, even though his energy faded quickly.
Marco went through a number of poses and then asked Dean to step in as well. Dean knelt behind the dog, and Marco got some wonderful pictures of the two of them. They smiled, and Sammy laughed and giggled. Only Marco’s professionalism kept him behind the camera and separated from the scene in front of him. He took all the pictures with the dog he needed and then got some of just Dean and Sammy together. They were incredibly photogenic, their smiles leaping into the camera.
When Sammy grew too tired to continue, Marco wound it down and then snapped a picture of Sammy alone, looking straight at him.
“You did great,” Marco said as Sammy sat down next to his tank, leaning on it, closing his eyes. Marco waited a few seconds, then took one last picture of him before putting the camera aside. “I hope he isn’t too worn out.”
Dean smiled. “You made him very happy.” He walked to where Sammy sat and carefully lifted him into his arms. Sammy curled right against his chest and had to be asleep.
Marco led him out front and sat at the computer. “It will take me a few days to get the pictures ready for you. Can you give me an email address? I’ll send you a link to the finished images so you can have them printed.”
Dean gave him the information. “How much do I owe you?” He fidgeted, trying to get out his wallet.
Marco shook his head. “Nothing.”
Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation. Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing) He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.Author Links Amazon Author Page Barnes and Noble Page Dreamspinner Press Facebook Facebook Group All the Way with Andrew Grey Goodreads Twitter@andrewgreybooks Website
February 6, 2018
characters answering v-day questions with BA, Juulia, Kiernan and Sean
Answer the following from the POV of one of your character couples.
How did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?
Do you have any Valentine’s Day traditions?Roses, chocolates or something else?
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
BA
How did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?
Sonny: Nekkid. Absolutely. Bare-assed.
Do you have any Valentine’s Day traditions?
Sonny: Oh honey, I don't even know for sure what month it is...
Roses, chocolates or something else?
MJ: Tattoos.
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
Sonny: MJ doesn't holiday. He gives blowjobs. And cars. He's the best that way.
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
Sonny: I'm gonna let him blow up a marina. For fun.
*grins*
Sonny and MJ are from the Road Trip series. Volume 2 releases Feb. 16 from Dreamspinner Press
Road Trip Collection
The course of love is a rough ride, but for ecoterrorist MJ, ridge runner Sonny, physicist Paddy, psychic Neil, genetically enhanced English professor Duncan, and the assassin known as Cowboy, the road to romance is a heart-stopping trip—one full of kidnappings, explosions, secret programs, and supersoldiers. They’re an awful ragged bunch to be considered heroes.
Under Pressure
Sonny and MJ’s retirement may be in jeopardy, but at least they’re together on a new boat—with no annoying hostages. Then Cowboy, MJ’s old friend, gets in touch, bringing with him a host of complications, including Professor Duncan, who has ties to the Program. A call for help from Paddy sets them all on a collision course with a deadly specter from the past. As MJ makes his plans, Sonny is shaken by the possibility of losing everything.
Walking on the Sun
Sonny is determined to raise hell to hunt for MJ—problem is, will MJ know anyone, or himself, once they catch up to him? Neil and Paddy are healing but reluctantly join the effort, as Cowboy and Duncan help Sonny prepare for a showdown. Sonny might be ragged, but he’s MJ’s hero, and he is not about to give up on the most important thing in his life, even if it kills him. Will everyone survive the last epic battle, or will they go out in a blaze of glory
First Edition of Under Pressure published by TOP SHELF: An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers, March 2009.
First Edition of Walking on the Sun published by TOP SHELF: An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers, September 2010.
https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/road-trip-vol-2-by-ba-tortuga-9345-b
Julia:
From Fallon from Fangs and Catnip
How did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?
Asleep, presumably. I was quite an infant.
Roses, chocolates or something else?
Blood. Preferably from my mate
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
Carter is nauseatingly romantic. Seriously, he never forgets an occasion for cards.
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
I don't bite and tell.
Fallon and Carter are from Fangs and Catnip from Dreamspinner Press
https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/fangs-and-catnip-by-julia-talbot-9030-b
Sean
Tenor and Daniel from Composing a Family stepped up for this one.
How did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?
Daniel: our first one together is coming up – we’re hoping to sneak out for supper together at Moxie’s and leave the triplets with their grandfather Matt.
Do you have any Valentine’s Day traditions?
Tenor: we’ll let you know in ten or twenty years
Roses, chocolates or something else?
Daniel: anything, though I do like Belgium chocolates.
Tenor: I don’t think anyone has ever bought me roses.
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
Daniel: Of course not – but Tenor is such a sweet, thoughtful man I can’t imagine him forgetting. Now if the triplets were sick for a few days, that might keep him from honoring the holiday on the day itself.
Tenor: Oh, I can totally see Daniel forgetting, but no, it wouldn’t upset me.
Daniel: Hey!
Tenor: Babe, I’ve seen you get lost for days in your music.
Daniel: Oh. Point.
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
Tenor: I’ve taken my and the girls’ handprints and I’m having it framed.
Daniel: It’ll go up in pride of place in my studio. I’m writing Tenor a song.
Tenor: aww – is it any surprise I love this man?
Composing a Family is available at Amazon and Evil Plot Bunny.
Visit our websites:Sean's is http://www.seanmichaelwrites.comJulia’s is http://www.juliatalbot.comBA’s is http://www.batortuga.comKiernan's is www.KiernanKelly.com
Facebook:Sean -- https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWritesJulia -- https://www.facebook.com/juliatalbotauthorBA -- https://www.facebook.com/batortugaKiernan -- https://www.facebook.com/kiernan.kelly
Seansmut fixes everything
How did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?
Do you have any Valentine’s Day traditions?Roses, chocolates or something else?
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
BA
How did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?
Sonny: Nekkid. Absolutely. Bare-assed.
Do you have any Valentine’s Day traditions?
Sonny: Oh honey, I don't even know for sure what month it is...
Roses, chocolates or something else?
MJ: Tattoos.
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
Sonny: MJ doesn't holiday. He gives blowjobs. And cars. He's the best that way.
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
Sonny: I'm gonna let him blow up a marina. For fun.
*grins*
Sonny and MJ are from the Road Trip series. Volume 2 releases Feb. 16 from Dreamspinner Press
Road Trip Collection
The course of love is a rough ride, but for ecoterrorist MJ, ridge runner Sonny, physicist Paddy, psychic Neil, genetically enhanced English professor Duncan, and the assassin known as Cowboy, the road to romance is a heart-stopping trip—one full of kidnappings, explosions, secret programs, and supersoldiers. They’re an awful ragged bunch to be considered heroes.
Under Pressure
Sonny and MJ’s retirement may be in jeopardy, but at least they’re together on a new boat—with no annoying hostages. Then Cowboy, MJ’s old friend, gets in touch, bringing with him a host of complications, including Professor Duncan, who has ties to the Program. A call for help from Paddy sets them all on a collision course with a deadly specter from the past. As MJ makes his plans, Sonny is shaken by the possibility of losing everything.
Walking on the Sun
Sonny is determined to raise hell to hunt for MJ—problem is, will MJ know anyone, or himself, once they catch up to him? Neil and Paddy are healing but reluctantly join the effort, as Cowboy and Duncan help Sonny prepare for a showdown. Sonny might be ragged, but he’s MJ’s hero, and he is not about to give up on the most important thing in his life, even if it kills him. Will everyone survive the last epic battle, or will they go out in a blaze of glory
First Edition of Under Pressure published by TOP SHELF: An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers, March 2009.
First Edition of Walking on the Sun published by TOP SHELF: An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers, September 2010.
https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/road-trip-vol-2-by-ba-tortuga-9345-b
Julia:
From Fallon from Fangs and CatnipHow did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?
Asleep, presumably. I was quite an infant.
Roses, chocolates or something else?
Blood. Preferably from my mate
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
Carter is nauseatingly romantic. Seriously, he never forgets an occasion for cards.
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
I don't bite and tell.
Fallon and Carter are from Fangs and Catnip from Dreamspinner Press
https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/fangs-and-catnip-by-julia-talbot-9030-b
Sean
Tenor and Daniel from Composing a Family stepped up for this one.
How did you spend your first Valentine’s Day?Daniel: our first one together is coming up – we’re hoping to sneak out for supper together at Moxie’s and leave the triplets with their grandfather Matt.
Do you have any Valentine’s Day traditions?
Tenor: we’ll let you know in ten or twenty years
Roses, chocolates or something else?
Daniel: anything, though I do like Belgium chocolates.
Tenor: I don’t think anyone has ever bought me roses.
Would you be upset if your significant other totally forgot about Valentine’s Day and didn’t even get you a card?
Daniel: Of course not – but Tenor is such a sweet, thoughtful man I can’t imagine him forgetting. Now if the triplets were sick for a few days, that might keep him from honoring the holiday on the day itself.
Tenor: Oh, I can totally see Daniel forgetting, but no, it wouldn’t upset me.
Daniel: Hey!
Tenor: Babe, I’ve seen you get lost for days in your music.
Daniel: Oh. Point.
What are you getting your significant other for Valentine’s Day this year?
Tenor: I’ve taken my and the girls’ handprints and I’m having it framed.
Daniel: It’ll go up in pride of place in my studio. I’m writing Tenor a song.
Tenor: aww – is it any surprise I love this man?
Composing a Family is available at Amazon and Evil Plot Bunny.
Visit our websites:Sean's is http://www.seanmichaelwrites.comJulia’s is http://www.juliatalbot.comBA’s is http://www.batortuga.comKiernan's is www.KiernanKelly.com
Facebook:Sean -- https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWritesJulia -- https://www.facebook.com/juliatalbotauthorBA -- https://www.facebook.com/batortugaKiernan -- https://www.facebook.com/kiernan.kelly
Seansmut fixes everything
February 3, 2018
What Ever Happened To Good Old Fashioned Romance? by S.C. Wynne
Good morning all,
Do you think light hearted romance stories should be rated lower than angsty, dark stories? I sometimes feel like that happens. As if the lighter stories aren't as important. It seems sometimes that if at least one of the heroes isn't a rent boy or homeless, no one takes the book seriously. By the way, I have nothing against rent boys or homeless characters, obviously, I've written about a bazillion of them. But I don't think having a happy, light hearted romance should be judged harsher either.
I had a reader reach out about one of my recent re-releases that happens to be a lighter storyline. He loved the book and that really meant the world to me. Because, while I write angst often, I also enjoy just exploring the trajectory of pure, old fashioned romance. Where the two characters just meet and slowly fall in love. I love it when the characters actually grow to like each other as people, and not just fall into bed the second they meet. (Insta lust is also fine, and I have done that plenty in books too.)
Short stories also seem to get that same treatment. I don't know if you've ever written a short story, but writing a concise, well written short is incredibly hard. But short stories are also rated lower often. Often the reviews will say how much they adored the book, but they wanted more and so minus one star. lol
How about you? Do you rate lower for short books? Or light hearted books?
The question I'm asking isn't a condemnation of darker books or angst filled stories, not at all. I love those books. It's more that I'm curious what you the readers think?
Do you rate books lower if they are light and fun? Do you ding authors because a book is shorter? Do you think those stories don't deserve as high a rating as a dark, deep gut wrenching, long story?
Tell me what you think!
S.C.
www.sc-wynne.com
Do you think light hearted romance stories should be rated lower than angsty, dark stories? I sometimes feel like that happens. As if the lighter stories aren't as important. It seems sometimes that if at least one of the heroes isn't a rent boy or homeless, no one takes the book seriously. By the way, I have nothing against rent boys or homeless characters, obviously, I've written about a bazillion of them. But I don't think having a happy, light hearted romance should be judged harsher either.
I had a reader reach out about one of my recent re-releases that happens to be a lighter storyline. He loved the book and that really meant the world to me. Because, while I write angst often, I also enjoy just exploring the trajectory of pure, old fashioned romance. Where the two characters just meet and slowly fall in love. I love it when the characters actually grow to like each other as people, and not just fall into bed the second they meet. (Insta lust is also fine, and I have done that plenty in books too.)
Short stories also seem to get that same treatment. I don't know if you've ever written a short story, but writing a concise, well written short is incredibly hard. But short stories are also rated lower often. Often the reviews will say how much they adored the book, but they wanted more and so minus one star. lol
How about you? Do you rate lower for short books? Or light hearted books?
The question I'm asking isn't a condemnation of darker books or angst filled stories, not at all. I love those books. It's more that I'm curious what you the readers think?
Do you rate books lower if they are light and fun? Do you ding authors because a book is shorter? Do you think those stories don't deserve as high a rating as a dark, deep gut wrenching, long story?
Tell me what you think!
S.C.
www.sc-wynne.com
