M.A. Church's Blog, page 190

Follow the Rainbow Book Review Blog Hop

 
Hey guys! Over this weekend the Follow the Rainbow Book Reviews Blog Hop will be taking place. I’m really excited to be taking part in this hop. To hop from one blog to another use the highlighted link above.
 
What writing GLBTQ literature means to me.
Until a few years ago all I read was het sex, and it was always the same ole same ole. Frankly, I was getting bored. Then I found GLBTQ and a whole new world opened up.  It was new, exciting, sensual, and oh my God, was I hooked. I’d never read anything like it.
    My main area of interest is in the genre is M/M. Yes, reading about two men making love turns me on, but it’s more than that. My interest brought me to a new awareness of just how far we, as a people, still have to go in the matter of equal rights. And I’ve seen how narrow-minded our legislating body can be in regards to what they consider ‘not normal.’  



  *Sigh* I’ve met people through my writing and heard stories that’ll rip your heart out. And the only difference between us… I’m allowed to marry and they’re not. That’s the tip of the iceberg, granted. But my point is because I’m straight a lot of the rights granted to me are denied to people who just happen not to be straight. They bleed the same damn color as I do… but because they are considered ‘different’ by the people in power, GBLT folks have to fight for what I took for granted. And that’s just wrong.
 
Contest:
Okay, now for the contest!
1)Join my blog, or let me know if you’re already a member.
2)Just comment. It can be about anything. If you join my blog (or have joined already) and comment, I’m offering a choice of one of my books to the winner. As always, I have a plan B lol.
3)Leave an email address. Please remember to do this. Without an email addy I can't send you your prize! :)
The hop ends Sunday, and I’ll be contacting the winner Monday by email. Please check out the other blogs in the hop; there are some fab prizes being offered.~M

Guest blog by Tali Spencer

Hey everyone! Today I have Tali Spencer visiting, and she’s doing a guest blog on her latest release, Sorcerer’s Knot, from Dreamspinner. Make sure to check out her blog; she's doing a giveaway too!  
When Life Serves Up a Monster—Guest Blog by Tali Spencer 
Have you ever wanted something really, really badly? So much you can’t think of anything else?
You know, the kind of thing that’s the one and only thing you want in the world, because if you had that, you know you would be complete?
I think all of us have been there. That kind of wanting is especially powerful in young people who’ve suffered broken homes or other life events that have left them feeling that something’s missing from their lives. But it could be any of us. If we could just find that one thing, win the love of that one person or open that one door, all our problems would go away. Think about how many of us obsess about a love interest, the one person who will make us whole. Or we might fixate on getting our dream job, going to a certain school, gaining entry into an elite group… or even getting published… something just at the tips of our fingers.
So we put all of our energy toward that goal. We put aside everything that does not advance our mission. We barely even notice we’re missing out on other things because we’re so focused on reaching our dream. And when we reach that goal, when we finally get what we want, the one thing that will make our life perfect… we find out it’s not the answer.
In fact, it’s a tentacle monster.
Maybe the monster is a marriage that didn’t turn out like a fairy tale. Or a job that’s soul-killing, without a future. Or learning that having children isn’t a picnic of cooing giggles and cuteness. As often as not, achieving the dream comes with a damn lot of crazy baggage we never signed up for. And instead of enjoying our triumph, we sometimes find ourselves fighting for our lives and wondering what the hell we got ourselves into.
The good news is we all get to go through this. I don’t know too many people who haven’t done battle with at least one tentacle monster of their own desiring. I’ve encountered three such monsters so far—defeated them all, thank you for asking—and wouldn’t be surprised to run into another. Why? Because I’m a dreamer and believe with all my heart in things like true love, human kindness, and happiness ever after. I never see the monstersBut I just wrote this post to illustrate how I came up with one of the themes of Sorcerer’s Knot, which is about Cian, a young, ambitious wizard who sets out to acquire a power that’s been forbidden to men for a very good reason. It’s also the tale of Muir the Scarred, the man Cian must either seduce or defeat if he is to get hold of that power. And yes, there is a tentacle monster.
Blurb:
In a world where pleasure unlocks even the best-guarded magic, Cian has a long list of magical talents—and an even longer list of sorcerers he slept with to acquire them. He even seduced a dragon. There’s just one arcane power left for him to master: command over the sea. Now Cian has learned where to find Muir the Scarred, the only man known to have mastered that power—and he is determined to wrest it from him by whatever means necessary.
But completing the task isn’t so easy. First, Cian’s boat is wrecked on the shores of Muir’s desolate island. Then he learns an enchantment will keep him there forever. And when he tries to seduce Muir, he finds himself being seduced by the mysterious sorcerer instead. But the source of the power Cian seeks is also trapped on the island, and it will stop at nothing to break free, even if that means forcing pleasure—and magic—from Cian's unwilling body.


Excerpt:
Cian began to remove his garments, one by one. He knew what he looked like without them, what peeling away layers of borrowed raiment would reveal. What he wore was scavenged, mismatched, salvaged from the sea or left behind by previous houseguests. None of the items suited his coloring. He yanked off his boots first, glad to rid himself of stiff, stained leather and missing nails. The wool jacket he shrugged off his arms was rough and patched, though the soft shirt beneath looked shabby only because it lay against skin as creamy as the ocean’s finest pearls. Lastly he unknotted the rope he’d used as a belt and pushed down his trousers, leaving only the draped and tucked linen of a loin wrap.
“I have something you want more than food,” he said.
Though the sorcerer did not speak a word of protest, Cian knew he’d guessed right. Half-formed desire gazed back at him from those pitch-dark eyes. Half-formed. What else lingered there issued a warning.
“I was wrong,” said Muir. “You may well eat tonight after all.”
“I’m not a whore, but I’m not a beast, either. I can’t live on grass. If my hard work won’t earn me food, maybe soft work will. I don’t want to leave here to toil in the village or on one of the farms, never repaying my great debt. I want to stay with you.”
“With me?” Muir smiled ever so slightly. He resumed stirring his soup, but he was listening. “You have no idea what you are asking, or offering. What will you do if I send you away?”
“Come back. Like a dog.”
Something predatory leaped over Muir, anger throwing off everything about him that was false. He ceased stirring his soup and strode to where Cian waited, stripped to a loincloth. He grasped Cian by the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him off-balance against him, mouth descending to capture his lips with a ferocity that made Cian gasp. And then that gasp too was taken, Muir’s tongue pushing it back into Cian’s throat as his free hand explored the smooth, offered flesh.
Instead of triumph, Cian felt fear, but it was a wild fear, exhilarating, the kind of fear that led men to hunt beasts capable of rending them with horns and claws. His cock hardened, tenting the loin wrap and pushing into the other man’s thigh. Muir’s power was within his grasp. He had sunk the hook and now had only to pull the man in, exhaust his senses and weaken his mind. Little by little, he yielded, giving himself over to that roaming hand, allowing Muir full access to his mouth. The man tasted like cherries, honey, and salt.
Cian wound his arms around Muir’s chest, pulling him tight and reveling in his scent. He smelled the sea, heard waves crashing. His moan vibrated the tongue now probing his surrender. With his hands, Cian explored Muir’s broad shoulders, grabbing handfuls of coarse wool, trying to undress him. Was Muir’s body scarred also? He dreaded what he might find, but he craved it too much to care. The path to power lay through Muir’s body.
He ground his groin against Muir, inhaling sharply when he felt the thrust of the man’s erection. Hard, long, and thick, rubbing against him with a summons he yearned to obey. For far too long, he’d denied his own urges. His mouth broke from Muir’s when the sorcerer grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him down, onto his knees. Mouth wet and puffy from being kissed, Cian looked up to see Muir rip at the lacings of his robe so the long-sleeved garment fell down over his arms and thighs to the floor.
Muir the Scarred was well named.
Trails of annular blemishes ribboned the pale skin of Muir’s previously hidden torso and limbs. Knotted ridges and rings of healed tissue, some half the width of Cian’s hand, strung along a serpentine path that curved from the sorcerer’s right shoulder, puckered over thick muscle and lay flat upon his breastbone, then continued down the ladder of his left side; more trails of ringed scars appeared under his arm to curl down his ribs and wrap around his hips. His cock, too, as long and thick as promised, was embellished with smaller variations. Ring-shaped cicatrices of pale rose encircled the dusky shaft, a swirling pattern at once shocking and strangely beautiful, like jewels embedded under the skin.
Muir reached down and ran his fingers through Cian’s hair. “I haven’t had a man as pretty as you in some time.”

Wednesday Briefs

Hey y’all! Hope this Wednesday is treating you good. Here are this week's prompts: "How could you think you're less than perfect to me?"
or use pasta in a creative way
or use: flowers, bridge, seesaw
or "please don't leave me..."
or feature a fight in your story - verbal or physical
or use: pink, condolences, believe

 Shadows in the Night Ch 19
Jason dodged the occasional vehicle while following the weak trail of antifreeze. Civilization receded as the miles passed. His body grew tired, but he pushed himself. Finally the fading trail turned off the main road.
A gravel road—damn. And the scent’s almost gone. There’s nothing out here but woods, and the land looks untouched. The Other must have Chip somewhere out here. It would be the perfect place to hide, but where? Need to eat too, and I’m getting tired. Going to need to be at full strength when I find that bastard.
The cougar stalked through the woods, hunting for food and anything that looked like it could be used to hide someone. A deer stand caught his eye. If there were stands, then there was probably a camp in the area. Jason prayed he wouldn’t run into hunters. That was the last thing he needed, but he had to check. After he ambushed a small deer and filled his stomach, he resumed the hunt and located the partially torn down hunting camp.
There’s not enough left here to hide someone, but it’s evidence of human activity. Good.
Jason spent the next few hours exploring. Chip was somewhere in these woods, and soon or later, he’d find him. As night gave way to daylight, Jason found an outcrop of rock that would hide him and offer protection. He rested for a short period, then started the hunt again. Hours passed as he searched.
Dammit, this is getting me nowhere. Maybe I should return to town and ask for help. The more shifters I have in this the better chance I’ll have of finding him. Maybe that’s the best… what the hell?
The woods slowly gave way to a cliff. A waterfall screamed over the edge to a small lake. It was a good twenty foot drop, but the surrounding banks were sandy. There were more trees below, the area was lush and private.
Huh, forgot this was here. Now, how to get to the other side?
* * * *
“Please, don’t leave me here, Jason. Find me.” Chip hugged a pillow close and tried to cat nap.
He woke as soon as he heard the key turn in the lock. He shoved his hair out of his eyes and sat up in bed. Garon, his realtor, was at the top of the stairs. Chip watched as his kidnapper locked the door and made his way down. In one hand he held paper bag and plastic plates.
“Ah, good. You’re awake. I’ve bought breakfast.”
Chip scrambled off the bed.
“No greeting?” Garon shook his head. “That’s rude, Chip. I went to all this trouble and you can’t even say good morning to me? I’d think you’d want to keep me happy… considering.”
His eyes lightened to a golden yellow.
Chip swallowed as those eerie eyes pinned him in place. He had his answer as to whether this guy was human. Time to make nice. “Good morning. I… ah, just woke up, sorry.”
“That’s better. I brought breakfast.” The shifter dropped the bag and plates on the table and sat down.
Chip stood there, uncertain what to do.
Garon sighed. “Must you be told everything? That’s going to make for some painful lessons if that’s the case.”
Chip shivered under that cold golden stare. “I don’t know… What-what do you want me to do?”
“Oh, there’s plenty I want you to do, but for now… serve me breakfast.”
Chip bit his lip as he moved toward the table and opened the bag. That comment made him nervous. If Garon planned on sexually assaulting him… Chip swallowed hard. He’d fight for all he was worth. He might get the hell beat out of him, but he knew there was no way he could lay there passively and let that bastard violate him.  The very idea made his stomach roll. After Jason touching him, the thought of anyone putting their hands on his body didn’t interest him, and the idea of Garon touching him was just nasty. Yeah, he’d go down fighting.
Inside the bag were two breakfast platters. Wherever his kidnapper got this, they weren’t from a fast food place. That meant there had to be a town near. Chip lifted both platters out. They both had waffles, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, and hash browns. At the bottom were plastic forks, knives, syrup, jelly, butter and napkins. No, this stuff came from a restaurant; there wasn’t any doubt. Chip was pretty sure he knew which one. The nearest IHOP was an hour and half away. Now he knew roughly here he was being held. He placed one platter, along with the plastic silverware, in front of Garon. 
Chip didn’t see any drinks. “What about drinks?”
“Check the fridge. There’s some small bottles of milk along with soda I put in there. Look toward the back.”
Chip bent down and grabbed two drinks. He even went as far as opening the milk for Garon, then turn toward the bathroom.
Garon stepped on the chain, halting Chip. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Chip stumbled to a stop. “I haven’t had a chance to use the restroom. I really need to go.”
The Other waved his fork in the air at Chip. “Did you ask?”
Chip pressed his lips shut so he wouldn’t call the bastard the nasty name screaming through his head. What was his deal? One part of him warned not to piss this nut off, while the other part was offended, and scared witless, at how he was being treated. Was Garon doing this to show him who was in control? He knew full well who had the power; he didn’t need these little humiliating tactics to remind him.
“I believe I asked you a question.” Garon’s hand swung out, landing on Chip’s ass… hard—harder than what a human could hit.
TBC
Don't forget to visit the other briefers. :)

Lily Sawyer m/m
Tali m/f
Nephylim m/m Julie Lynn Hayes m/m

Bound by Fate-The Next Generation

Szin's Story

~Age 10~

“Why do we have to do this?” Szin demanded once again as Dale ushered him toward the flyer.

“You and your brother turned ten this week,” Dale said for the fifth time in as many minutes. “This is when young are tattooed with the royal symbols, sweetie. It’s why we’re going to Ta’Nar. The Royal Office is where it’s done by a royal tattoo artist. They’ll match what your dabba and I have on our necks. It's an honor to be tattooed; our traditions only allow the best warriors and royalty this privilege . After that we’ll visit with Hamza; he’s excited about seeing you both. ”

Szin dragged his feet as he and his daddy approached the flyer where his dabba and Raiden were waiting. “Daddy? Raiden says it hurts, really bad.”

“I’ve heard that it does, yes.” Dale rubbed his hand over Szin’s hair. “Your dabba insisted I be given pain relief so I couldn’t feel the pain. Oh yeah, I forgot. Here, I brought this, just in case you get thirsty on the way to the palace on Ta’Nar.”

Szin took the bottle that had his favorite drink.

“Come on,” Raiden yelled. “By the God’s, you are slow!”

“Shut up,” Szin mumbled.

“You shut up,” Raiden hissed back.

Finally everyone got in the flyer, and the young settled in the back. The fighting started as usual.


“I wanted to listen to the dopi, I just downloaded some new music,” Raiden complained.

“I remembered to bring it, so I get it first.” Szin plugged the dopi in to the flyer power source. “You have the koobeton.”

“But I want the dopi,” Raiden hissed.

“Tough,” Szin replied.

Raiden reached over and tried to pull it away from Szin, who wouldn’t let go. A short, snarly argument broke out quickly in the back of the flyer.

“Stop it, you hair ball!” Szin yelled.

“You knew I wanted to listen to it on the way there.” Raiden hissed as he wrestled with Szin. “Give it to me!”

Szin slapped Raiden’s hand, which resulted in a loud, distressed yip.

“Oh stuff it, that didn’t hurt.” Szin rolled his eyes.


“That’s enough,” Keyno said loudly. “Szin had it first, so he gets it for now. I will tell you when it’s time to switch. And Szin? No name calling or hitting, I mean it. Raiden? Leave him alone.”

“Awww dabba, that’s—”

“Or Szin can keep it the whole way, if you argue with me. Your choice Raiden,” Keyno said, cutting off his other young.

There was some soft mumbling in the back of the flyer.

“If you have something to say—”

“I didn’t say anything, dabba,” Raiden huffed as Szin snickered. “Daa-aad! Szin’s laughing at me. Do something! I didn’t do anything to him.”

“By God, don’t make me come back there,” Dale threatened, turning around to face his young.

A small smile played around Keyno’s lips as they eased into warp drive. Dale had taught both young early on to call him “dad” from Dale’s first language even though both young called Keyno “dabba” from the Ta’Narian language.

Silence reined in the back seat. Dale maintained eye contact for a moment more, determined to make his point. Satisfied, he turned back around.

“Oh Lord, I sound like my parents, Keyno. Those two have turned me into my parents. Mom said I’d get repaid for all the fighting Susan and I did as kids. And she’s right.” Dale spoke softly to his mate.


“It’ll be okay, love. They’re just excited and nervous about the tattoos. Did you fix Szin something to, ah… drink?”



“Yeah, I did. I feel bad about the pain blocker I slipped in it, but since he’s all but human—”

“It would be bad for him, my mate.” Keyno reached and grabbed Dale’s hand. “He just doesn’t have the tolerance Raiden has, and I don’t want him to hurt any more than necessary. He’ll feel enough to be able to say he endured it.”

Dale glanced back at his young who were now sharing the drink—the drink with the pain blocker.

“Oh damn,” Dale whispered. “Raiden’s drinking Szin’s drink too. Great.”

Keyno just laughed. “Oh well, not much we can do about it now. Dale, if you make a big deal they’ll know we did something. I’ll handle it, my mate.”

“Okay.”

“Raiden, you have your own drink up here, don’t drink all of Szin’s.”

“Oh, okay. Can I have mine, then?” Raiden asked.

Dale handed the other drink to Raiden. After the young sat back down, Keyno winked at Dale. “This brings back memories.”


“Whatcha mean?”

“Remember when you were tattooed?”

“Are you serious? Of course I do. We had just finished up shopping for clothes. Jeez, the look on your face when you saw me dressed.”

“You were the sexist thing at the celebration. I was hard all night looking at you.”

Dale snickered as Keyno purred softly. “Down, boy. That’ll have to wait until tonight. Anyway, you could have told me I’d be given pain relief. When you said the process wouldn’t hurt I assumed there was minimal pain involved. I had to find out from Doc that the tattooing was very painful, and that he wouldn’t be doing the actual tattooing.”

“Oh? That’s all you remember?”

“Well, there was that little deal with you threatening to kill the royal tattoo artist just because he made a comment about me being weak because you insisted I be given pain relief. You slammed that poor male against the wall so hard pictures fell to the floor. And let’s not forget the marks you left on his neck either from strangling him.”

“He was lucky I didn’t break his neck for what he said.”

“I think he kinda figured that out. Having your feet dangle a good foot off the ground tends to get your attention.” Dale shrugged. “Speaking of which, what are the possibilities that the same tattoo artist will still be there?”

“Pretty good, I’d imagine. Why?”

“I was just wondering if we were gonna end up having a repeat of what happened last time if the same male is there. Once was enough, thank you. Would you be okay with the same one doing the young?”

“I would, yes. I made my point with him—one that he won’t ever forget. And if there is a new artist, I’ll be more than happy to explain everything again. If that involves nearly choking him to death, I can do that.”

“I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: Jeez, you guys give new meaning to machoism.”

Keyno raised an eyebrow. “I don’t hear any complaints when I’m making you scream with pleasure.”

“Oh damn, Keyno, stop that! Your scent will be all over the flyer and the young are already asking questions about that smell. I am not ready to have the ‘birds and the bees’ talk with them.”

“By the Gods, Dale, what does birds and bees got to do with anything?”

“Tell you what, I’ll explain it to you, too, when I have ‘The Talk’ with the young.”

Keyno grabbed Dale behind the head, pulled him close and kissed Dale hard. “You do that—explain sex to me while I put you on your hands and knees, tie you in place, and fuck that ass for hours.”

“Ewww!” Raiden yelled from the back of the flyer. “They’re kissing again!”

“Oh hush, Raiden.” Dale huffed out a quiet laugh. “You damn alien, now I’m hard.”

“You can explain what I need to do with that too.”

“I will, believe me, I will… later.”


The tattoos went fine. Raiden stayed near Szin the whole time, holding him close. A few tears escaped the young, but he got through it. Raiden never made a sound. Later they went to eat in the capital city at a place that resembled Earth’s Chuck E. Cheese. It was geared more for climbing and hunting with trees and caves to explore—perfect for growing young. They spent the rest of the evening visiting with Keyno’s uncle-King Duran, his mate, Juan, and their young, Hamza.

TBC


And the winner is...

Malissa, you were the winner from the Goodreads chat!

If you have Priceless don't worry, I have a plan B lol. Congrats!

~M

Goodreads chat for Priceless

http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/997538-meet-m-a-church

Hey y'all! I'm doing a chat at Goodreads today at 3 Eastern. Stop by and join the fun! There will be a giveaway involved lol! And if you already have a copy of Priceless, we'll do something else!

~M

Saturday Snark

Hey guys! Today’s little bit of snark comes from Nighttime Dreams which is due out in September. Just a reminder: Bryan, a good ole country boy at heart, was the sheriff from Nighttime Wishes. Make sure to check out Marie Sexton's blog for the other links! ~~~
Bryan kept his eyes on both aliens. What was going on? They looked ready to square off. “Hey, I have no intention of harming Shawn—”
“Oh, only us?” Daroshi snapped as he turned to look at Shawn.
Zing sliced his hand through the air trying to stop what was fast building into another useless conversation. “Regardless—”
Bryan gripped the knife. “He didn’t fucking ambush my ass after I went to all the trouble of covering for you guys—”
“We couldn’t very walk in the front door!” Daroshi hissed. “In case you didn’t notice we don’t look human.”
“Nor did he stun me!” Bryan yelled.
“Dear gods, come on Shawn,” Ziang muttered.
Daroshi pointed his finger at Bryan. “You stunned my commander first—”
“I had two big ass aliens after me, of course I tased him! What did you expect after the way you busted through the window? You think I was going to offer you a beer? And fuck, my house is probably gonna burn down since I left the damn stove on!” Bryan bellowed. “Son of a bitch, I left the damn stove on!”
The door to Medical opened and Shawn walked inside with Blayno guarding him. He had heard most of the conversation from outside.
“Huh, I did tell you he wouldn’t come without a fight.” Smirking, Shawn took in the flushed faces of Daroshi and Bryan. “Think I also warned you to disarm him.”
Daroshi threw his hands up in the air. “Gods! Are all humans like this?”
“Only the ones half scared out of their minds.” Shawn turned to Bryan. “How’s it hanging, dude?”

TGI Friday

Here it is Friday again! Yay, time to start the weekend! I hope y'all had a good work week, and resisted the urge to knock any fellow co-works up side the head lol. ;)
Check this out! I found a site through the DSP author group that lets you use photo's. Cool, huh? And it's legal: notice the link below the picture. And what a picture.

photo credit: <a href="http://machurch00.blogspot.com/2012/0...http://www.flickr.com/photos/michael_harold/5455283250/">Michael Taggart Photography</a> via <a
There is just something about this that caught my eye. *Laugh* there has to be a story in there somewhere!

I guess y'all saw I redid my blog again. LOL, yes again. I had a new header made so I switched things up. I'm rather pleased with the result! Maybe we'll call this my 'gray period' lol.

Okay, I'm off to work some more on Shadows in the Night. It's up to 38K, can you believe that???  I'll see you guys tomorrow for Saturday Snark. :)

~M

Captive Heart by Tali Spencer

Hey everyone, come on in and have a seat! Today I have my good friend Tali Spencer visiting with me. She's talking about writing in general and her latest release Captive Heart, which is being released by Resplendence on August 15th. 

Plus, she's giving away a free copy of Captive Heart to someone who comments on her blog post between now and 12 a.m. on Saturday, August 18th. So, let's get to it lol!

~M


~So tell us about yourself. What got you interested in writing?
I’ve always loved the spaces between words and images. Like many writers, I dabbled as a child, but I was also considered artistic and loved science. My first dream was to be a doctor. I never really thought about being a writer, though, until a ninth grade English teacher gave me a copy of the first book of Tolkien’s Lord of the Ringstrilogy, and I read it and realized fantasy was that perfect space where words create images. So Mrs. McPeak from El Paso, wherever you are now, thank you. I haven’t stopped writing since, though I’ve hit a few detours along the way.


~If there was one piece of advice you could give a new author, what would it be?
If you want to have a career as a writer, not be a hobbyist, educate yourself about the business. I meet a lot of new authors, really talented young writers, who approach getting published very casually, when in fact publishing is serious business. Writers who learn the ins and outs of that business will be better able to weather the ups and downs. And I’m not kidding when I say getting a book accepted by a publisher is only the tip of the process. 
If you want to be published, learn the etiquette and how-tos of submitting to publishers, editors and agents: seemingly small details really can send your manuscript to the top of the pile—or straight to the bottom. Do yourself a favor and learn how to research potential markets, read and negotiate a contract, understand how a publishing company works, and ferret out the basics of distribution and promotion. That’s all stuff you need to know.
Seriously, my advice is to relax about the writing. Enjoy the writing! Tell the stories you love and have fun with building your skills as a writer. Get a good beta reader or two. But learn everything you can about the business end for when you decide to make that jump into the big pond. Acquiring that knowledge now will pay off for your career down the line. I’ll step off my soapbox now. 
~How much of your personality and life experiences are in your writing?
All of it. Literally all of me and all of my life is in my books. Not all in one book. Not all in one character or setting or plot. Some parts are in books no one but me has read yet, and maybe no one ever will. But the places I have lived, or have visited… they’re in my fiction, my settings, and my worlds. The people I have hated or worshipped or loved… they’re in there, too. If you know me at all, you may recognize a bit here, a quirk there. Julissa has my utter faith that people are basically good. Vorgell, my basically cheerful nature. Gaspar has my way of putting information together. Lukacz has deep roots in my childhood. If you know me really, really well, you may identify bits and pieces of my sons, my father, my husband. They show up a lot. :D  I believe all fiction is autobiographical… it’s just a matter of to what degree. 
~Is there anything you’d like to tell? Maybe something in the works you would like to promote?  Feel free!
In addition to Captive Heart, I have two M/M novellas coming out soon. Sorcerer’s Knot, a magical tale of wizardry and ambition—and tentacles!—will be available on August 22nd from Dreamspinner Press. The other is a long novella, The Prince of Winds, an Arabian Nights flavored fantasy of adventure and romance, coming from Dreamspinner as a September release. If you’re in the mood for something really different, I have a demon story set in the Andes that will be coming out in October in the “Devil’s Night” anthology from Storm Moon Press.  

~ What's your guilty pleasure?

I have so many, I can’t decide. If I have to go with just one, make it Celebrity Apprentice—the best damn train-wreck on TV! Donald Trump says the most amazing, idiotic things… sexist, racist, crazy stuff. And I don’t think he’s any of those things, by the way, he just says them!  And the B list cast of characters always includes a few loop jobs who go bat shit insane. You can’t make this stuff up.
~ What was your favorite character to write, and why?
I absolutely loved writing Gaspar. He’s an emperor, and weighed down by responsibility, but he’s also a loving, passionate man—and he wants to rescue his sister, who has been kidnapped by Julissa’s brother. So he conquers a country. He’s overjoyed by his victory, anticipating revenge on the brother… and this lovely young woman, who he thinks is a servant, falls into his lap and he thinks, “Why not?” So he entices her into bed. Being on top of the world makes a man horny. Except the world delivers one of its famous“gotcha” punches and Gaspar discovers bedding Julissa has made both their lives complicated. His range of emotions was fun to write. Triumphant, furious, vengeful, remorseful, playful. That Gaspar is playful is something I, at least, find sexy. But he has to be serious a lot and that part doesn’t suit him so well. He’s also self-conscious about his looks, because of his nose and having being rejected for marriage by several princesses. Gaspar’s got a lot of me in him, poor guy.
~If we were to come to your house for a meal, what would you give us to eat?

Because you’re very special guests, I would make ossobucco. Or, if there are a lot of you, I would make a big pot of homemade gravy with meatballs—I’m from Wisconsin, where we call it spaghetti sauce, but I married a Philly guy and everyone here calls it gravy—an even bigger pot of gnocchi and a pot of ravioli, and serve that. There’d be a tomato, basil and mozzarella salad, and a big loaf of Italian bread. And for dessert we’d have cannolis. But if you dropped in unexpectedly, I’d have to serve up ice cream bars for dessert. The pasta, gravy, and tomatoes, I always have on hand. 

~ Do you have a historical crush and if so, who is it?
Benjamin Franklin. Not only was he brilliant, interesting, and a founding father devoted to principles I hold dear, but he sounds like he’d be fun in bed. My husband knows about my Ben crush. When we were dating, we visited Ben’s house here in Philly, and there was this man there who would dress up like Ben and pretend to be Ben. He was sitting under the tree in the courtyard and we got to talking. Next thing you know, we were just lost in each other, grinning and laughing. He stayed completely in character and it was like being with Ben! When I walked away later with my husband, he looked at me and said, “He was flirting with you!” And I said, “Yeah, and you’re lucky he’s dead!”
~~~~ Blurb and Excerpt for Captive HeartA vengeful emperor conquered her country…now he’s after her heart.Julissa has only known life as a sheltered princess in Sebboy's opulent but restrictive society, ruled over by strict parents and the righteous Prophets of her god. She is all but destined to a marriage of alliance until her brother kidnaps a foreign princess as his bride, and Julissa's country becomes the target of the girl’s vengeful brother. Gaspar Leonnte may have a big nose and be the subject of ridicule at Julissa's family table, but he doesn't have any trouble conquering Sebboy.While fleeing the city, Julissa falls into Gaspar's hands and everything she ever knew changes. When a misunderstanding brings Julissa to his bed, the victorious emperor sees no reason not to enjoy his pretty captive for the night. Julissa should refuse him and honor her duty to her family and Prophet, but how can she fight the passion Gaspar awakens… even if doing so might mean her life?Excerpt:A great noise in the hallway and the sound of fighting caused Aurelia to shriek and Julissa to leap from her bed and dart, still in her nightclothes, into the antechamber of apartments belonging to the royal sisters. Male voices boomed outside the chamber door. She recognized Lorant’s and flung the door open to see what was the matter. Ilona and Serafina crowded behind her.In the dim light from the sconces, she saw Lorant drag a naked Petraeus to his feet then hurl him hard against the wall. Her older brother’s bellows of rage filled the corridor. A brace of soldiers propelled another man, also naked, down the hallway toward the stairs.“What’s happening?” Julissa couldn’t understand why her brothers were fighting on the eve of battle. And wasn’t Lorant supposed to be at the front?Ignoring her, Lorant slammed Petraeus’ head against the wall three times until his brother’s hands, which had been grappling with his, dropped. He threw the unresisting youth to the floor. Only then did he attend his sisters.“Go back to your rooms!” he snarled.“But Peta—” Julissa had never seen her brother, any of her brothers, naked. To see Petraeus now, so pale and exposed, and also so helpless, seemed impossible and wrong. “Stop!” She grabbed Lorant by the arm but could not prevent him from delivering a hard kick to his moaning brother’s middle. This time, Petraeus coughed blood.“I found him being a whore to men!” Lorant wrenched out of her grasp. “Go back to your rooms, Jules! Father will deal with him and his paramour, too.”More soldiers charged toward them from the stairs down which the other man had been taken. On Lorant’s order, two of them seized the naked prince and dragged him quickly away. When Ilona and Julissa tried to follow, Lorant shoved them roughly back into their chamber, so hard they both tumbled, gowns about their knees, to the floor, where Serafina and Aurelia descended upon them with cries of concern. But Lorant simply slammed shut the door and they heard him slide the outside bolt home, locking them in.Through the door, they heard Lorant ordering the soldiers to keep them secure. For an hour, they scribbled prayers to every Prophet, burning them in holy candles, sending heavenward their entreaties that the terrible screams echoing through the palace cease. In the oppressive silence that followed, Julissa lay in her bed, comforting a sobbing Aurelia, saying it was over, that no more soldiers would come. That Peta would be all right. She stared sleepless at the ceiling until, hearing noises in the courtyard below, she scrambled from the bed and ran to the window. Through the shutters, she saw a closed carriage leaving, clattering off by way of the service gate into the night. * * * * The sisters were released from their rooms in the morning and told to act as though nothing had happened. They knew better than to disobey, though the family meal that evening was strained. Lorant, mercifully, had gone back to the front. Julissa didn’t think she could have held her tongue around him, but her father and mother terrified her into silence with their cold expressions. She fled as soon as she was able, her feet carrying her onto the south terrace and its gardens, where she hoped to blot her mind of her last sight of her brother by silencing those thoughts with icy cold and prayers.The night air smelled of winter daphne, a light scent of sweet viburnum wafting from the low shrubs her gown brushed along the path. Clipped pillars of honeyed box trees screened the view toward Cheda with its scores of white marble shrines bejeweling the hills like pearls. Beyond those unseen hills, cannon fire rumbled, rolling over the city in waves.“What your father did to your brother was wrong.”Julissa inhaled deeply of the crisp cold. Her father had decreed that none of them speak ever again of Petraeus and his disgrace. Only Adora would be so heedless of the Sebboyan king’s wrath. Through wet eyes, she cast a quick look around the garden. The winter path was far from the house, and empty but for the two of them, so she dared to speak.“He didn’t want to go!” Emotions she’d bottled up all afternoon burst from her lips as though some dam had broken. “How could a father refuse to listen to his child? How could he subject his own son to torture, to silence? His crime was great, but—”From servants she had learned enough. While Petraeus had been forced to endure the horror of seeing a close friend blinded and emasculated in the cruelest of ways, she had been hiding in her bedchamber. Not hiding, she reminded herself. Locked. She’d been locked in her room, where she’d just curled in her blankets like her sisters and been the worst of cowards.“What crime?” Adora argued softly.It was difficult to believe so young and unassuming a woman had been a celebrated advocate in Uttor—until she spoke. Julissa tried to look away, but the Uttoran princess placed a hand upon her arm, insisting on being heard.“Your brother shared his body with another man? It is his to share!”“It is a crime against god’s creation!”“But not your god who punishes him! It will be the hands of men that blind your brother’s eyes, remove his tongue and condemn him to live in a cell far from the kindness of his family or the advantages of his station. Men, not your god, commit these acts against him.”Julissa walked away from this woman and her heresies. While it was true the god lauded by her chosen Prophet, Garmael, was gentle and kind and would not have punished a man for something that harmed no one, another Prophet, Mamatas, had spoken against unions that bore no fruit, calling them acts of theft, and therefore harm, against the creator. Thieves lost their hands, and those who stole from a god lost their lives.“Men, gods…women can stop neither!” Julissa realized her words lacked the discipline of a reasoned argument and stopped to face Adora again. At this moment, she wanted nothing to do with the young princess Lorant had abducted and forced into marriage—acts for which, even now, Uttor’s cannons besieged Julissa’s country. “I wish this were not so. But I can do nothing. We are all helpless now. Petraeus is already taken away.”Somewhere in the hills was the ridotto of the Sileres, the brothers of the Seventh Prophet of Koth, where her brother would undergo a ritual of purification before taking the oath of silence that would precede a priest ripping out his tongue. So that it never pleasure a man again, or speak of the foul deeds it had performed.She could barely conceive of the sex acts Ilona had described to her in lurid and quite possibly imagined terms. Only Adora, said by servants to have spoken passionately in Petraeus’ defense to Lorant, defying his threats to strike her, seemed to have any real concept of what was involved. To place one’s lips upon a man’s member and taste it with tongue or suck it like a teat, or for a man to accept another man’s member into his body…it simply escaped Julissa why anyone could wish to do such a thing.“Perhaps, sister, if you can learn to which ridotto—”“I’m not your sister, and Petraeus is not your brother! Your brother is attacking my country and killing my people! I’m sorry Lorant kidnapped you,” Julissa said, angry that she could not keep tears from her eyes, and that she liked Adora but hated Uttor for having brought all this down upon them. “He shouldn’t have taken you, and he shouldn’t have married you, and if he forced himself on you, he shouldn’t have done that, either. But there didn’t have to be a war!”Turning on her heel, she walked away from the garden and Uttor’s unsmiling princess. * * * * Gaspar Leonnte was tired. Two weeks on the march, worn to the ground tired. So were his men. He’d pressed his two corps of imperial troops hard to cover the distance between Sardona and the Sebboyan city of Nicohemas, effectively cutting the country in half. His energy had been spent long before this campaign, however. Though the Sebboyans didn’t know it, he’d begun his war against them on the very eve of his sister’s abduction, producing cannons, carracks and munitions in secret, playing shell games with the deployment of his ships and troops.“Anything from Arrento?” he asked his aide-general, Niarchus.The striped command pavilion with its golden poles and fringe afforded rustic comfort, including heat against the winter cold, and a freedman, Gaspar’s trusted Banno, to provide food and drink. He accepted Banno’s offer of a deep bowl of mulled wine, cupping it in his hand.“Only his last communication, that he had joined the army outside Cheda along with the reinforcements from Juta and Facciolo’s cavalry. He believes he has a plan that will take the city.”Cheda meet Darius.His best friend could slice an army through the heart of any foe.Gaspar dropped into a camp chair and smiled at the thought of soon seeing his sister again. “Good. He’ll cut them to pieces, or I don’t know him. I just hope he can reach and find Adora quickly.”“They won’t harm her. If not the Kordeun royals themselves, someone in the city will trade her for peace.”“They should have done that before I invaded.”Niarchus snorted. “You caught them by surprise. They thought you would wait until spring to make war. Nor could they imagine you would invade with such a massive force so soon and without warning. You caught them before they could ask for assistance from their allies. We should still take control of the road to the Benarri kingdom. The royals may attempt to escape Cheda that way.”Gaspar nodded. It would be prudent to seal off the road. He lifted the bowl to his lips and took a deep, warm drink, confident the next vintage he tasted would be Sebboyan. “Do it. I don’t want any of the Sebboyan royals to escape me, especially Lorant. I want them all.”~~~~My Blog: http://talismania-brilliantdisguise.blogspot.comMy Twitter: @talismania1My FB: https://www.facebook.com/tali.spencerDreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3183Resplendence Publishing: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Wednesday Briefs

Happy Wednesday, guys! Time for another episode of Wednesday Briefs! This week's prompt is: “Nose to the grindstone….”
or the alternate prompts are:
use: type of cloth, stone, painting
or “Oh my God, is that…”
or use: a story about finding a case/bag of money
or use: cookie jar, lunch box, spoon

I’m using “Oh my God, is that…” 
Shadows in the Night Ch 18
Chip waited until he heard the crunch of Garon’s ties on gravel before he opened his eyes. Sighing silently that Garon had indeed left, he took stock of his body. His jaw ached from the hit he took, but wasn’t broken. He also had a headache, a split lip, a dull pain in his shoulders, and his wrists hurt. To matter worse, Garon had taken his shoes and socks.
He’d awakened right before Garon left, but luckily he had enough sense to stay still and quiet. He’d heard Garon say he’d be back tomorrow. He slowly sat up and gasped when he heard a rattle and felt the tightness of something on his ankle.
“Oh my God, is that… a chain? That bastard chained me, chained me like a damn dog!” Furious, Chip crawled to the end of the bed. He could see the chain was bolted to the floor. “Son of a bitch.”
He jumped off the bed, grabbed the chain, and jerked with all his might. He fought the chain for several minutes, and accomplished nothing more than working up a good sweat. He gave it one last, good yank before he collapsed on the bed.
“All right, let’s try this.”
Bracing his foot against the footboard, he pulled with all his might. Still nothing. The bolt wouldn’t break. He was well and truly trapped. Dropping his head in his hands, he fought off the despair that threatened to overcome him. Tears formed in his eyes. He wiped desperately, but they still ran down his cheeks.
How was he going to get out of this? What did Garon want with him? Hell, was Garon even human? After all he’d seen lately that was a question to seriously consider. And most importantly, where was Jason? Was Jason part of this? He couldn’t believe that—Jason cared for him. He knew deep down Jason wouldn’t do this to him. What would be the point? Plus, he couldn’t see Jason letting another man touch what he considered his. Giving in, he let his emotions have free rein. Everything came rushing out: his granny’s death, Jason being a shifter, his fear of the unknown, learning the man he cared about wasn’t human, losing his job… the bottled up fear, anger, and confusion finally blew and needed an outlet.
“Oh God, Oh God, help me. Someone help me. Please, help me.” Chip drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. For the next several minutes he rocked hopelessly as his sobs echoed around the room. Finally he ran out of tears.
“Okay, enough. This isn’t helping.” He scrubbed his face dry. He had every reason to believe Jason would show up and save him, if he was still… Chip turned his thoughts away from that direction. For now, he was on his own. “Can’t break the bolt in the floor, so what’s my next best option?”
Chip examined the padded shackle on his ankle. “No way am I getting this off without a key. At least the thing is padded.”
Which surprised Chip. He figured Garon would like the cold hard metal cutting into his skin. Then he noticed how chaffed his wrists were.
“Rope burns,” he said quietly as he looked his wrists over. “Well, that explains the sore shoulders. He must’ve had my hands behind my back, the fucker.”
Running his hand threw his hair he looked around the room. He didn’t see any windows, but at least he had a lamp by the bed. There was a small bathroom that was attached to the room too. He stood up and walked to it. He noticed he had some slack in the chain, enough to move around. The bathroom was old and had seen better days. There was a free standing shower with no curtain, a toilet and a sink—it all looked like they had been cleaned recently, but nothing short of replacing the whole bathroom was going to get rid of the ground-in dirt.
Chip wrinkled his nose. “Lovely.”
He looked around the room. He saw the stairs that led up to a door, but thanks to the chain, he could only get to the third step. The room also had an old TV on a stand and a small fridge. He examined those. The fridge was bolted to the floor, as was the TV stand. But the TV itself… 
“Well, well, well,” A nasty smile crossed Chip’s lips. “Someone got in a rush, huh? Bolt everything but the TV. You just made your first mistake, you asshole.”
Chip spent the next hour going over the room. He checked the walls and the floor boards looking for anything that he could use as another weapon. He’d found the one, but would that be heavy enough to knock Garon out? And how the hell was he going to get that chain off him? Chip got a bottle of water and a bag of chips out to eat. Stuck down here, he had no idea what time it was, or if it was day or night. Chip turned the TV on to see if it worked, and luckily it did. He found the menu and checked the time. Now he had a way to see what time it was. Yawning, he curled up on the bed. He doubted he’d sleep, even though he need to rest. He had to be ready for anything. ~To be continued.Until next week y’all. Remember to drop by the other Bloggers!~M

Nephylim m/mLily Sawyer m/m Michael Mandrake m/mMC Houle m/mTali m/fJulie Lynn Hayes m/m