Freddy MacKay's Blog, page 2
July 22, 2014
In the Name of Books
Hi, everyone!It's been a while. Life is busy. I'm trying to keep up with deadlines (aka writing when I can) as well as keep things moving on.
In other news, I wanted to talk about reviews. Not as in I love reviews - though I do appreciate it when I get them - or as in I hate reviews. It's about reviewing itself. (At the end of my little article I do have resources for people to check out if they desire.)
Review vs Summary
Within the MM community recently, we have seen old review sites shut down and new ones being developed by eager readers. Seeing the old reviewers move on is always sad, but that's the way things go. Meeting the new ones is always fun because they bring fresh-faced eagerness that's hard to compete with.
There will always be someone who loves a book and another who hates it. Reading, what you like to read, is a personal thing. The best thing you can do for an author, and another reader, is to give them a review that is comprehensive. Not a summary, but a review highlighting different areas that would be of interest.
What do I day this? Because there are lots of summaries out there, and they don't do much besides give me or another reader a breakdown of what happened in the book, and for me, the urge to read the book is usually wiped out. Summaries are not the same thing as reviews.
What is a summary? Well, it's basicslly like the book reports you did in elementary school, junior high or high school. In these summaries, the focus is on telling us an account of the plot, letting us know about the characters, and informing us what the work is about. You tell what you liked, what you didn't like, did you enjoy the book's themes, and give some quotes.
Does this sound like a review to you? It could, because they are similar, but in actuality, they aren't the same.
Reviews are critiques of the work the author created. We are not given a point by point retelling of the major plot points like in a summary/book report. Why? So other readers can enjoy the revelations themselves. These are about sneak peeks at the book and whether or not the reviewer enjoyed it. Reviews give a brief description of the plot points with an appraisal of the strength and weaknesses of the story without giving away any of the plot devices, or the end of the book. This idea is important to understand because a lot of summaries do exactly this-giving away the plot, its devices and the end—causing frustration for the writers and disinterest for the readers.
A prime example I can think of is movie trailers. Have you ever sat in a movie theater, watched a trailer, and then turn to the person next to you and say, "Well, I don't need to see that anymore."
Have you? I know I have, and that's because you've felt like you've seen all of the good parts of the movie already. They didn't hold anything back (baiting you for more). That's what a book summary does, it kills the excitement or the anticipation for the reader.
And this is why reviews are hard to write. I will be the first to say I don't write the best reviews, but when I do, I try hard not to give anything away. You have to give enough information that allows the reader to make a judgement about if they want to give a book a chance without telling them too much and killing their curiousity. Let them know why the book worked for a reviewer, or why it did not. Maybe what you like isn't another person's cup of tea, and that's okay, but don't be afraid to try something outside your comfort zone. When a reviewer does this, they are not only the reader's friend but the author's too.
Read. Love/Hate. Review. ;)
Below I have a couple resources listed if you want to have a more comphrensive explanation on book summaries and book reviews. Please enjoy and share.
If you want to read up more on book reports/summaries, check out Purdue's OWL resource for Book Reports. They give more comprehensive detail and guidelines for people to follow.
If you want to read up on book reviews, check out Purdue's OWL resource for Book Reviews. They give a more comprehensive look at them and guidelines for people to follow.
June 12, 2014
Guest Author C. Zampa
Please welcome Guest Author C. Zampa today. She is here today to give us a taste of her new novella, Honor C, as well as talk about love with us. In addition, she has a $50 GC giveaway (info at the bottom).
First off, I asked C. Zampa to talk to us about the different kinds of love. Friendship, kinship and lovers.
Je t'aime. Ich liebe dich. Aloha wau ia 'oe. Taim i' ngra leat. Te amo. I love you.
Boy, oh, boy. The word, the concept—love. How easy it seems to describe it! A simple four letter word, right?
Wrong.
More language variations for the little word than I can even count. Why, browsing for quotes on the subject, I found over 32,000 of them! And that, my friend, was only the tip of the gigantic, overwhelming, universal iceberg.
Love.
Finding a way to describe love has become as impossible to me as trying to catch Niagara Falls in a teacup. It’s that big, that complex, that powerful. That beautiful, that majestic.
Love.
Who can have it? Anybody. Where does it come from? That’s the glorious mystery of it. It doesn’t come from anywhere. It just happens and it happens in our souls, our hearts. And, folks, we have absolutely no control over it. Sometimes it’s so beautiful, sometimes it hurts so bad, that we wish we could manipulate it. But we can’t. Sometimes it’s so huge, so bright, we think we’ll die from how good it feels.
Love.
It knows no boundaries. Yeah, yeah, I know they say that. But it’s true. It has no gender, It sees no distinctions. Love has this uncanny, exquisitely wonderful way of just latching itself onto the hearts of anybody it wants. Guys fall in love with guys. Gals with gals. Guys with gals. Parents love their kids. Kids love their pets. Grownups love their pets. Kids love their parents. Buddies love their buddies. Best girlfriends love their best girlfriends. I could go on and on, but you get the picture. Anybody, anything that breathes life and has a heart is susceptible to it. The love thing, that is.
I read this quote by musician/singer Bob Marley. I figure he was talking about traditional romance but…well…if you really, really see the words, you know the sentiment really could be applied to anyone, any kind of relationship. But it’s a wonderful portrait of that thing called love.
Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.
Isn’t that beautiful? What an incredible, priceless gift for one to find this kind of bond.
All that power. Enough combined energy to split atoms, expand universes, turn dark to sunlight, destroy hate.
And only four little tiny letters. LOVE.
Next up, the blurb and an excerpt from Honor C.
Honor C
Contemporary M/M Novella
Dreamspinner Press
Blurb
When Honor Castillo convinces himself he isn’t gay, he begins a new life. He ends his affair with his lover, Jorge Villagomez, and marries Rebecca to establish a life with her as a respected San Antonio businessman. They have a son and he tells himself he is happy.
Eleven years later, Jorge returns to San Antonio, and his path crosses with Honor’s once more. The flame of their passion never died, and neither did Jorge’s love for Honor.
When Jorge approaches Honor to design his studio, Honor believes he can walk the line between friendship and lovers. But when a sudden crisis threatens to take Jorge from him forever, Honor must choose between his duty and his heart. Most of all, he’s forced to decide what he’s willing to lose in order to be true to who he really is.
Buy links:
Dreamspinner Press:
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3823
Amazon:
All Romance (Are):
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-honorc-1216159-149.html
Excerpt
JORGE stirred beside me, dragging me from my reverie of schoolyards, lunches, and bullies and back to the present.
Tonight was our last chance to make love. I had no words, I just wanted to look at him, memorize him. I reached to paint the line of his full bottom lip with my thumb and shivered at the sigh it evoked from him, the tiny whimper as he wriggled to face me.
He twirled a finger in the curls at my nape. “Remember Shirley Setzer?”
I turned on my side to take in the sight of Jorge’s nude body—skinny, girly, driving-me-out-of-my-mind sexy—stretched out beside me.
The limited light transformed his thin form into smooth, elegant planes with a tantalizing thatch of shadow between his legs.
“How weird. I was just thinking about her.” I lifted onto my elbow.
His hand dropped to his chest. “The day we met.”
I snorted. “We didn’t meet that day. You never even spoke to me.”
“Didn’t I?”
“Hell, no.”
“But—”
“Ah, no. You pranced your stuck-up little ass back to the building, never said two words to me.”
Lifting his hand, he pretended to slap me. “I was not stuck up.”
I said nothing, just lifted an eyebrow that I was sure he couldn’t really see in the dark.
“I didn’t mean to be, Honor. I guess I was afraid to talk to you. None of the other kids had anything to do with me. Figured you wouldn’t either.”
“But you charged into Shirley. You sure weren’t shy then.”
“I just reacted.”
“I’ll never forget. You knocked the shit out of ol’Shirley and never even said anything to me. You just strutted away, all prissy-assed. Do you know what I thought?”
“What?”
“I thought you were irritated at me, that you thought I should have defended myself. That you thought I was weak.”
“Oh, querido,” he murmured and cupped his warm palm to my cheek. “I was the weak one, to give in to her taunts. You were the strong one. And I think I loved you that day. Even that young, I think I loved you.”
“Me? Gordo? Cerdo Castillo?”
With a grunt, Jorge flopped onto his back. “Stop it, damn you.”
“Sorry,” I chuckled. It riled him so for me to put myself down about my size.
He shifted toward me once more, wormed nearer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’d see you smile at somebody in the halls and I’d nearly cry like a baby, wanting so bad to get one of your killer smiles aimed at me. Holy shit, I had the biggest girly crush on you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Your smile, Honor.” He pressed a trembling finger to my lips. “Your smile.”
“Once you did speak to me, I don’t think my smile showed itself for anybody but you again.”
“Bullshit.” This time he did slap me. Lightly, but still a slap to my cheek. “She sure as hell sees it.”
“Ay-ay.” I coaxed the head of my cock against his crotch. “We agreed not to bring that up tonight.”
“Please don’t do this.” He whispered the words onto my shoulder. His voice, so husky, a sultry purr—all Lauren Bacall, just put your lips together and blow—hadn’t lost its power to make me grovel at his feet in lust.
“Want me to stop?” I teased and turned him in my arms.
“Make jokes.” Burrowing deeper into my embrace, he growled and circled his palm over the hair on my chest. “Becky,” he spat. “I can’t even say her name without choking on it.”
I held him tighter but said nothing. What more was there to say? We’d been arguing all night, ever since I’d broken the news to him that I’d gotten serious with Rebecca Sanchez, the dazzling woman I’d met a few months back.
We can still fuck, can’t we? Jorge had contended.Why does she have to change anything?
Because once my relationship with Becky seemed to be heading on a serious route, I couldn’t cheat on her. I just couldn’t. The decision hadn’t come easily, but I’d made it, and I knew it was good.
Author links:Blog: http://authorczampa.blogspot.com
Amazon Author page: www.amazon.com/C.-Zampa/e/B004QSDSG0
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/authorczampa
Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/carol.zampa.3?fref=ts
Giveaway Information:
C. Zampa is giving away a $50 Amazon Gift Card at the end of the tour.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Tour Schedule:
Honor C. Tour Stops
May:
29th: Dawn’s Reading Nook
http://dawnsreadingnook.blogspot.com/...
30th: New Release Announcement Blog
http://newreleaseannouncement.blogspo...
31st: Author Raine Delight
http://authorrainedelight.wordpress.com/2014/05/31/discover-honor-c-by-c-zampa/
June:
4th: Will Parkinson (blog post/promo post)
http://parkerwilliamsauthor.com/wordp...
6th: RJ Scott (Promo post)
http://rjscottauthor.blogspot.com/201...
11th: Silvia Violet (Promo post)
http://silviaviolet.com/blog/2014/06/...
12th: Freddy MacKay
http://freddysstereograph.weebly.com/
17th: Three Flynns (Seduce Day/wip teaser)
18th: MM Good Books Review (review and promo excerpt/blurb)
http://mmgoodbookreviews.wordpress.com
18th: Sloane Taylor (Recipe and promo post)
http://sloanetaylor.blogspot.com
18th: Sue Brown (Guest blog post)
http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.co.u...
20th: Three Flynns Website/blog (Blog Post)
22nd: Cynthia Sax (interview-no giveaway on this stop)
http://tasteofcyn.com/author-interviews/
24th: Romance Lives Forever Blog
May 1, 2014
Guest Author Vastine BonduRant
Welcome, Vastine. Vastine is here to visit us, giving us a wonderful look at her story, Glory Lands, as well as hold a little contest for everyone (Rafflecopter link below) for a $100 GC to Victoria Secrets or Amazon (runs through May 10th). First she shares a little bit about the research that went into her story. Q: Historical books can be difficult to write. The language and culture has changed over time and can only be ascertained through research. What kind of research did you do for Glory Lands? And were there any interesting finds or surprises along the way?VB: For some reason, this era and everything about it are so close to me, I don't feel like they're historical, just my own personal history---if that makes sense. As far as research, I've always been fascinated with the era...the Great Depression...particularly this location, and have spent so much time reading and absorbing accounts of the period. But, then, I've had the luxury of my roots being deep in this place and to have had relatives (my mother, particularly) alive to share real-life background. And the language and culture are surprisingly intact to this day. But as far as some actual words, it did take a bit of extra study to make sure they were authentic to the period.
The premier interesting find during research was the discovery of the sheriff of the real-life town where the story takes place. The story itself had been tossing around in my mind for so long but---upon stumbling on this man---the story found its heart. His story, the particular incident which begins the story, haunted me. Blurb
A Texas Piney Woods Story
Rural East Texas, 1931. Preacher’s son Emory Joe Logan and a fiddler from Shreveport, Glory Lands, meet and form a tender bond. When they are caught and arrested for homosexual acts by Sheriff Elihu Bishop, the lawman’s sanctimonious bigotry threatens to rip the young men from their families.
Emory Joe’s father, Pastor Charles Logan, is brought to his knees in terror, confusion, and anger. He still regrets not standing up against Bishop when the lawman murdered a youth in cold blood nine years ago.
Now there’s no longer a choice for the preacher to stand up to the lawman. Cold-blooded justice, bigotry-disguised-as-religion, and hatred take on a whole new meaning when they’re standing on his doorstep, ready to take the son he loves. Excerpt: I’D BEEN scared lots of times in my nineteen years, but never as scared as I was as I sat with Daddy in the church.
He’d begged me to go home, to pack, and to head for the bus station while he met with the sheriff alone—how simple he made it sound, as though inviting Bishop to tea and cake.
No, I told him. I wasn’t leaving without some last words to Bishop. So if I insisted on facing the sheriff, Daddy begged me to wait it out with him at the church. He assured me Bishop would show up, as sure as night and day, and somehow he felt safer there in the sanctuary.
Tears threatened to make their way from the well in my belly to my eyes to see Daddy sitting—just sitting, still and silent, with his Bible in his lap—in his usual seat at the side of the pulpit.
He’d never in a million years have showed up at God’s house dressed in trousers, a sleeveless undershirt, and suspenders. Sweaty. Unshaven. I wondered if he even realized how much like a hobo he looked.
Who was to know how this day would end? It didn’t matter any longer.
All I did know was I’d never realized how much I loved my father until sharing that awful but somehow beautiful silence in that empty church while we waited for whatever was going to happen.
Did he know how proud Mama would have been of him? I hoped his heart knew that Mama was right beside him in that seat, holding his hand.
Looking back, I reckon my mother had always seen my true self. She’d always seemed to know there’d been something different about me. Although I knew without a doubt she would have been standing beside us right then, I was glad that she didn’t have to be.
“Daddy.” My own voice startled me when it broke the oddly peaceful tension inside the sanctuary.
Daddy, as though he’d been in a deep trance, glanced to me from whatever world he’d been lost in. “Son?”
“You know why I’m doing this?”
He crossed his legs, shifted in the seat, and shrugged. “I think so, Emory Joe.”
“If it had been just me, I’d have hightailed it out of here, not made a peep, so as to not embarrass you anymore.”
He just nodded.
I continued, “But you know I can’t, after what they’ve done to Glory.”
“I understand.”
“And, Daddy….”
“Yes?”
“I’m not really afraid, if you’re worried about that.”
“I know, son.”
“Daddy?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
With his brow furrowed, he stared at me with some words perched on his lips. He said nothing, though, just smiled and nodded. But his smile had hugged me and held me hard, and I felt his I love you stronger than any spoken words. The affection piercing me through his unsaid sentiment was the sort a fellow would give his life to have.
The purr of a car’s engine and the crunch of tires on gravel outside the open doors of the church shouldn’t have surprised me, but my body jolted anyway. And I didn’t even have to look to see who’d driven up. I knew.
Daddy drew a shaky breath, closed his eyes, and softly chanted a Psalm. “They have prepared a net for my steps; my soul is bowed down: they have digged a pit before me….”
Icy water pulsed through my veins with my spiked heartbeat.
Car doors opened and, after a pause, closed.
This was it.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Buy Links:
Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4617Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Glory-Lands-Vastine-Bondurant-ebook/dp/B00HZL4FE4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1398627965&sr=1-1&keywords=vastine+bondurant
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-glorylands-1401263-145.html
Readers' Remarks on Glory Lands (Optional in case you want to use a quote or two in the post)
"...This story is beautifully written with charm and a very classy style. ” cathy- (Amazon)
"..
But every so often a story comes along and absolutely annihilates me. Glory Lands is that story...~ Astrid (Amazon)
April 19, 2014
Winner for Autism Blog Hop
It's a day late but I wanted to announce
Jill P
won the drawing for my portion of the Autism Blog Hop put on by RJ.
August 5, 2013
Guess what's coming soon
Hey all! Ummm, it's been, oh, a while. Sorry about that. Life has been super busy. I have been getting writing done, and things will be getting released over the next couple months. Yay!
One of the first is my free read for the MM Romance Group's Love Has No Boundaries Event.
Blurb
Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, 1976Sometimes a friendship resonates stronger than simple male bonding. When Jim, Dylan and Fred first met at college, they knew there was something more to their triad than beer and classwork—music connects them. That, and something else.Dylan and Fred's desperate, secret love for Jim.During a summer vacation where the boys struggle to find their sound and to determine whether they can make the band work long term, Fred struggles with his closeted status and Dylan with his angry demons. Too much unsaid and left to fester may tear these three apart.
Excerpt
1976, Lake Geneva, Wisconsin
A thunderous horde pounded behind Jim, though it only included two people. The sound of heavy footfall traveled down the dirt path long before Dylan and Fred would ever get to the dock—his friends and bandmates from college. Ever since they met in their freshman English 101 class three years ago and realized they lived on the same floor in the dorms, they had been inseparable. Jim never had a dull moment when Dylan and Fred were around. Their laughter and jokes were loud, crude, and full of life, just like them, and could be heard from just outside the guesthouse all the way down the hundred-yard path.
Quiet and subtle Dylan and Fred were not. Fred’s shout reached Jim first.
“First one there gets the top bunk!”
“Fuck you! You topped last night!”
“Shit, no pushing! Ass!”
Rocks tumbled and branches broke. Jim turned in his chair to get a better look at his squabbling friends. He had suggested coming down to the lake to relax after another failed jam session, but his friends didn’t sound relaxed to him. Nope, they weren’t. Dylan had just picked himself up off the ground and made a grab for Fred’s ankle. Fred stumbled but kept moving, a determined look on his face.
They were in an all-out run toward the lake, the two racing each other. Arms pumping, chests rising and falling, and cheeks reddening as they sprinted along the path. Jim frowned. Dylan and Fred were plenty close to the dock now. They should’ve started to slow down. Instead, they were still barreling down the path, then onto the long wooden dock. The timber groaned tortuously under their every step.
Oh no. Jim shook his head. No. No. Nooo. No. No!They’d better not be planning to—oh, yes, they are!
“Fuck!” yelled Jim as he lurched back, barely keeping himself from getting knocked out of the chair as his friends sped past him, tumbling over each other.
Dylan whooped and jumped up, Fred seconds behind him, hollering at the top of his lungs. Jim put his hands over his ears because the sound pierced his eardrums. Oh, wait. Jim’s gaze widened. The pair wrapped their arms around their tucked up legs and plunged into the lake.The spray of water went everywhere. Jim tried to put an arm up to keep it from hitting him, but he hadn’t moved fast enough. Shirt, swim trunks, towel— everything was soaked. Jim sputtered and stood, shaking himself out. Water droplets flew into the air, catching the light from the hot sun above him. Rainbows and sparks formed in them as they fell. Cool.
The tiny lights were almost beautiful enough to distract Jim from the noise in front of him, but not quite. Dylan bobbed up to the surface, immediately dunking Fred back down under the water when he came up for air.
“Take that, you shit!” shouted Dylan, letting Fred come up for another gulp of air before pushing him down once more.
“Ass!” gasped Fred as he surfaced again, his dirty-blond curls sticking to his head. He pushed against Dylan and floated out of arms’ reach. “Dude, did you really have to take it so far?” Fred coughed. “Fuck, I musta swallowed the fucking lake.”
Jim’s lips twitched. He shuffled to the edge of the planks. “I don’t think you managed to say fuck enough in that sentence.”
Fred flipped him off, still treading water, warily eyeing Dylan.
Dylan’s smile was as wide as the lake. The dumbass swam closer to Fred. “Chill, man.”
Fred sneered. “I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe. Are you trying to drown me like Brian Jones?”
Dylan paused, one of his hands pushing through his short brown hair. Water fell everywhere. “Of The Rolling Stones? Dude, didn’t he drown like seven years ago? Sixty-nine, right? Wasn’t he all by himself, in like a pool or somethin’?”
“Not the point!”
“He didn’t have anyone’s help.”
“He was a musician and he drowned!”
Dylan shook his head. “Not the same. Are you planning on rollin’ a purple barrel or drinking some hooch and swimming alone in a pool?”
“No! But—”
“Then you really shouldn’t compare yourself to Brian Jones,” answered Dylan. “Don’t be such a spaz.”
“Besides,” added Jim, smiling. “He had talent. What do you have?”
Fred sputtered. “I’ve got talent!”
“Just because the girls throw their bras at you, doesn’t mean you’re any good.” Dylan grinned and winked. “It’s probably some feminist statement about not needing pissants like you.”
Jim nodded. “Burned! Why don’t you back your cherry ass down and give up?”
“Cherry ass?” Fred narrowed his eyes. “I’m not some weak-ass pansy. I’ll show you!”
“Like you can.” Jim laughed, amused at the spark in his friend’s eyes. Fred bobbed up and grabbed the bottom of Jim’s trunks and pulled. Jim stumbled forward, headed face-first into the lake. “Fuck!”
He hit the water hard. Every surface of his skin that hit the lake stung. The impact took the wind out of him. His lungs ached. Jim twisted around, except he got caught on Fred, his friend still holding tight. Jim squirmed, desperate to reach the surface. He kicked and pushed, but couldn’t move, Fred’s body weight kept him down. Sinking toward the bottom, the pressure against Jim’s chest became insurmountable. His head buzzed. He needed air. Fuck, he ached all over. It took too much effort to fight against Fred. His chest heaved, his mouth opened. Water rushed in, his lungs heavy. The blue water went dark, everything fuzzy.
Fuck—he was going to drown.
One of the first is my free read for the MM Romance Group's Love Has No Boundaries Event.
Blurb
Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, 1976Sometimes a friendship resonates stronger than simple male bonding. When Jim, Dylan and Fred first met at college, they knew there was something more to their triad than beer and classwork—music connects them. That, and something else.Dylan and Fred's desperate, secret love for Jim.During a summer vacation where the boys struggle to find their sound and to determine whether they can make the band work long term, Fred struggles with his closeted status and Dylan with his angry demons. Too much unsaid and left to fester may tear these three apart.
Excerpt
1976, Lake Geneva, Wisconsin
A thunderous horde pounded behind Jim, though it only included two people. The sound of heavy footfall traveled down the dirt path long before Dylan and Fred would ever get to the dock—his friends and bandmates from college. Ever since they met in their freshman English 101 class three years ago and realized they lived on the same floor in the dorms, they had been inseparable. Jim never had a dull moment when Dylan and Fred were around. Their laughter and jokes were loud, crude, and full of life, just like them, and could be heard from just outside the guesthouse all the way down the hundred-yard path.
Quiet and subtle Dylan and Fred were not. Fred’s shout reached Jim first.
“First one there gets the top bunk!”
“Fuck you! You topped last night!”
“Shit, no pushing! Ass!”
Rocks tumbled and branches broke. Jim turned in his chair to get a better look at his squabbling friends. He had suggested coming down to the lake to relax after another failed jam session, but his friends didn’t sound relaxed to him. Nope, they weren’t. Dylan had just picked himself up off the ground and made a grab for Fred’s ankle. Fred stumbled but kept moving, a determined look on his face.
They were in an all-out run toward the lake, the two racing each other. Arms pumping, chests rising and falling, and cheeks reddening as they sprinted along the path. Jim frowned. Dylan and Fred were plenty close to the dock now. They should’ve started to slow down. Instead, they were still barreling down the path, then onto the long wooden dock. The timber groaned tortuously under their every step.
Oh no. Jim shook his head. No. No. Nooo. No. No!They’d better not be planning to—oh, yes, they are!
“Fuck!” yelled Jim as he lurched back, barely keeping himself from getting knocked out of the chair as his friends sped past him, tumbling over each other.
Dylan whooped and jumped up, Fred seconds behind him, hollering at the top of his lungs. Jim put his hands over his ears because the sound pierced his eardrums. Oh, wait. Jim’s gaze widened. The pair wrapped their arms around their tucked up legs and plunged into the lake.The spray of water went everywhere. Jim tried to put an arm up to keep it from hitting him, but he hadn’t moved fast enough. Shirt, swim trunks, towel— everything was soaked. Jim sputtered and stood, shaking himself out. Water droplets flew into the air, catching the light from the hot sun above him. Rainbows and sparks formed in them as they fell. Cool.
The tiny lights were almost beautiful enough to distract Jim from the noise in front of him, but not quite. Dylan bobbed up to the surface, immediately dunking Fred back down under the water when he came up for air.
“Take that, you shit!” shouted Dylan, letting Fred come up for another gulp of air before pushing him down once more.
“Ass!” gasped Fred as he surfaced again, his dirty-blond curls sticking to his head. He pushed against Dylan and floated out of arms’ reach. “Dude, did you really have to take it so far?” Fred coughed. “Fuck, I musta swallowed the fucking lake.”
Jim’s lips twitched. He shuffled to the edge of the planks. “I don’t think you managed to say fuck enough in that sentence.”
Fred flipped him off, still treading water, warily eyeing Dylan.
Dylan’s smile was as wide as the lake. The dumbass swam closer to Fred. “Chill, man.”
Fred sneered. “I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe. Are you trying to drown me like Brian Jones?”
Dylan paused, one of his hands pushing through his short brown hair. Water fell everywhere. “Of The Rolling Stones? Dude, didn’t he drown like seven years ago? Sixty-nine, right? Wasn’t he all by himself, in like a pool or somethin’?”
“Not the point!”
“He didn’t have anyone’s help.”
“He was a musician and he drowned!”
Dylan shook his head. “Not the same. Are you planning on rollin’ a purple barrel or drinking some hooch and swimming alone in a pool?”
“No! But—”
“Then you really shouldn’t compare yourself to Brian Jones,” answered Dylan. “Don’t be such a spaz.”
“Besides,” added Jim, smiling. “He had talent. What do you have?”
Fred sputtered. “I’ve got talent!”
“Just because the girls throw their bras at you, doesn’t mean you’re any good.” Dylan grinned and winked. “It’s probably some feminist statement about not needing pissants like you.”
Jim nodded. “Burned! Why don’t you back your cherry ass down and give up?”
“Cherry ass?” Fred narrowed his eyes. “I’m not some weak-ass pansy. I’ll show you!”
“Like you can.” Jim laughed, amused at the spark in his friend’s eyes. Fred bobbed up and grabbed the bottom of Jim’s trunks and pulled. Jim stumbled forward, headed face-first into the lake. “Fuck!”
He hit the water hard. Every surface of his skin that hit the lake stung. The impact took the wind out of him. His lungs ached. Jim twisted around, except he got caught on Fred, his friend still holding tight. Jim squirmed, desperate to reach the surface. He kicked and pushed, but couldn’t move, Fred’s body weight kept him down. Sinking toward the bottom, the pressure against Jim’s chest became insurmountable. His head buzzed. He needed air. Fuck, he ached all over. It took too much effort to fight against Fred. His chest heaved, his mouth opened. Water rushed in, his lungs heavy. The blue water went dark, everything fuzzy.
Fuck—he was going to drown.
May 28, 2013
Welcome Guest Author Lou Sylvre
Hello everyone! I have a wonderful guest author today, Lou Sylvre. She is here to promote her new book with Dreamspinner Press, Finding Jackie.
Blurb:
Luki Vasquez and Sonny Bly James finally have their Hawaiian wedding, and it's perfect, almost. But their three-phase honeymoon is riddled with strife. Luki's status as a working badass spells discord for the newlyweds. A former informant from Luki’s days with ATFE brings a troubling message (or is it a warning?) from a Mob hit man. When Luki’s sixteen-year-old nephew, Jackie, is lured into capture and torture by a sadistic killer, the honeymoon is well and truly over.
The couple put aside their differences and focus on the grueling hunt, which takes them from leather bars to dusty desert back roads, and calls on Sonny’s deep compassion as well as Luki’s sharpest skills. Their world threatens to fall apart if they fail, but their love may grow stronger than ever if they succeed in finding Jackie—before it’s too late.
She has also kindly agreed to an interview and even has an excerpt from her current release to share. So please welcome Lou!
Where did you get your start in writing?
Oh, it’s hard to give a straight answer for that! This is really more of a chronology. I wrote a song on the way to school in second grade—don’t tell, but I think it was mostly plagiarized. I wrote stories with the great encouragement of my eighth grade English teacher,Mrs. Horne. As an adult the college I attended was non-traditional and required a lot of writing of all kinds. I’ve “always” written, but it wasn’t until the late 1980s that I started to submit work. In 1992 I had some stories appear in an anthology, but I really got serious about writing for publication around 2005 or so. I took a couple of classes, wrote, submitted, and had published a YA novel, and had a good number of short stories published in various markets. (All of that was under a different name.)
How did you come up with the idea for the Vasquez and James series?
It was evolution. In the YA novel I mentioned above I had a couple of characters that weren’t really written as gay (or not gay) more or less declare (to me) their love for each other, and commence a torrid (off the page) love affair. I wrote them a story or two, thinking I could put them to rest, but they kept nagging at me. They evolved a bit with the stories, but when I first outlined a novel for them it involved paranormal type things. Occupied with other things, I left them alone for a while, and then when I went to work with those characters again, I had a “keep it simple” revelation. The characters became Luki Vasquez and Sonny James, and they seemed quite comfortable with the mundane world I put them in. That was the long answer; short answer—the characters drove me to the concept.
How many ongoing writing projects do you have? How do you find the time to keep up with all of them?
Good question. Counting them up, and not counting the ones that have been dormant for a year or more or the ones that are only concepts at this point, I have five. I honestly have not been able to keep up with them all, but at the moment, beginning just recently,writing is my day job, so I’m in the process of figuring out how I’ll arrange my hours and days. Presumably, I’ll be able to keep up better. That’s not exactly a given though, because the more time I have the more ideas seem to demand my attention.
Who is your favorite character and why?
I’m not sure if you want a favorite character from my own work, or from some other author. If I’m answering from my own characters, it’s fairly easy. Luki Vasquez is my favorite, because he’s strong, and skilled, and decisive, and gorgeous but scarred, and all icy outside but soft in his heart of hearts, he’s a protector, first and foremost, and he will do anything to keep someone safe. And all that doesn’t really cover it. I don’t so much want to know him as I want to be him.
What line that you've written makes you smile or laugh every time you read it?
It’s sort of impossible for me to choose one. I’ll just go with this, which is from early in Loving Luki Vasquez, when Luki is giving Sonny an impromptu tai chi lesson on the beach.
As he would with any other student, Luki stood behind him, using his own hands to guide Sonny through the move. He wondered if he could get away with teaching him all the rest of the moves in just that way. Perhaps for hours. Every day. For a long time.
Would you care to share an excerpt for any of your WIPs or current books?
Here’s an excerpt from Finding Jackie, my most recent release:
Sonny woke in the gold of a summer desert dawn having saved himself from the dream, the one he’d had over and over since last year, when he and Luki had shared their first living nightmare. One involving blood, insanity, Delsyn and a bomb. The event had taken Del’s freedom, and led to a domino chain of horrors: bullets and bodies and cliff sides and copter blades. And Delsyn died. Sonny hadn’t had the dream for weeks, and he didn’t know why it was returning now, unless maybe it was just because they were heading for Nebraska where the worst of it had started, but he was glad he’d been able to shake himself free of it before it really got rolling. He looked at Luki’s dark form, thankful that his lover slept peacefully, this particular night, no trace on his face or in his breathing of fighting his own nightmares.
Sonny swallowed water from the glass on the night table, and lay back down, curling close to his man, who also functioned as safety equipment. He closed his eyes, breathing a deep sigh when Luki, in his sleep, wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. Instantly, darkness and Luki’s scent—its warmth as always unexpected but welcome—enveloped him. Luki muttered something soothing though he didn’t wake, and Sonny felt safe. Sonny felt protected as he never could remember feeling before—even as a child—except with Luki. He closed his eyes, sure that his dreams of horrors couldn’t penetrate the Luki Vasquez stronghold; sure that sweet sleep would be his until time to rise. He almost stirred when he was assailed with a sudden, deep-seated knowledge that daylight would bring trouble, but he’d have to deal with those problems when they were in his lap.
He yawned. Luki sighed. Sonny slept for a time.
He woke again, but this time he cried out—it was almost a scream—and Luki sat up too. Sonny heard himself babbling. He knew what he meant to say, and he knew it was coming out garbled, but he couldn’t stop. Luki wrapped both arms around Sonny, cradled his head against his beating heart.
“Hey, baby!” Luki crooned. “Hey, shush, now. It’s okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
Sonny did quiet down, then, but when Luki kissed his eyelids, he realized there were tears leaking from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Luki. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He looked out the window and realized the sun hadn’t really moved from when he woke from his first nightmare. “Oh, God,” he said, and leaned out of Luki’s shelter to get the tumbler of water off the bedside table.
“Tell me?” Luki asked. “You had another dream earlier. Were they the same?”
“No, that first one was the usual—you know, Delsyn and lots of blood and those fucking helicopters.” Luki said nothing, simply waited as Sonny paused to get situateed securely against his chest again, inside the circle of his arms. Once there, safe, he said, “The second dream was about… Jackie and Josh… and that Rita. Luki, I don’t have a good feeling.”
Luki was obviously too careful to jump into the middle of that.
Panic bubbled just below Sonny’s solar plexus and he thought Luki could probably see it. Luki’s hands made soothing movements, and quietly, calmly, he said. “Can you tell me more? Tell me what you mean when you say you don’t have a good feeling? Why?”
Sonny shook his head almost violently. “I don’t know why! I wish I did, maybe I could put a stop to it. But… I can’t explain. Ever since the wedding—no, even before that, when Jackie called us on Skype—remember?”
“Yeah. Asking all kinds of questions about kinky stuff and hinting around that his sexuality scared him, or that he thought he might be twisted because of what people did to him. It was a little weird. At least for me. I don’t have enough practice being an uncle, I guess.”
“Well, it was a little weird for me too, and I do have practice being an uncle.” Sonny went silent, unwillingly thinking of Delsyn’s painful death. He shook his head again, this time to clear it. “Anyway, ever since then I just have a feeling that something scary is going on right under my nose and I don’t even know it.”
***
Luki sighed and pulled Sonny up out of bed, drew him to stand against him, full contact. It wasn’t sex—well, sex was always there when they touched like that, but that wasn’t the purpose of the hug. When Luki wrapped his arms around Sonny, it was solely with the idea of giving his beloved the opportunity to melt for a moment. Give him a few seconds where he didn’t have to be anything, not brave, or witty, or kind, or thoughtful, or angry, or scared. Nothing. And Sonny took advantage, or so it seemed to Luki. Despite the fact that Sonny was a couple of inches taller, Luki’s greater mass served as anchor and Sonny simply fell into him, laying his head on Luki’s shoulder and letting himself drift.
When Sonny moved, after a length of time that neither one measured, Luki walked him to the little bathroom, turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature, put Sonny in the shower, and washed him down with sponge, soap, water, and love. Throughout the process he murmured, “Let it go, baby,” and “It’ll be okay,” and “You’re beautiful and I love you.”
Buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=551
What are your writing habits?
As I mentioned they are kind of undergoing change to some degree, but in general, I like to start my writing day by going back over what I’d written the day before, and I admit I edit and revise while the work is in process. I try to sit down to new writing fairly early in the day if possible, but only if I’m going to be able to write uninterrupted for a while. I myself do interrupt writing for research, though, which is a great pleasure. I admit I do also steal a half hour here, an hour there and write if opportunity presents itself. I outline a bit, I seat-of-the-pants it a little bit, too.
Tell me:
One favorite book:
Green Grass, Running Water (by Thomas King)
One movie:
Edward Scissorhands (with Johnny Depp)
One city:
Victoria BC, Canada
One color:
Naples Yellow
One smell:
Cedar
One moment in time:
When I first held my newborn grandson.
Any words for your fans?
Thank you! You’re wonderful. Stay in touch!
Links to find and/or bug Lou:
Website: http://www.sylvre.com
Lou's Blog: http://www/sylvre.com/blog/
Email: lou.sylvre(at)gmail.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lou.sylvre;https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLouSylvre?ref=hl
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sylvre
Goodreads blog:http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4873260.Lou_Sylvre/blog
I hope everyone enjoyed themselves, I know I did. Now go, enjoy Lou's new book!
Blurb:Finding Jackie
Luki Vasquez and Sonny Bly James finally have their Hawaiian wedding, and it's perfect, almost. But their three-phase honeymoon is riddled with strife. Luki's status as a working badass spells discord for the newlyweds. A former informant from Luki’s days with ATFE brings a troubling message (or is it a warning?) from a Mob hit man. When Luki’s sixteen-year-old nephew, Jackie, is lured into capture and torture by a sadistic killer, the honeymoon is well and truly over.
The couple put aside their differences and focus on the grueling hunt, which takes them from leather bars to dusty desert back roads, and calls on Sonny’s deep compassion as well as Luki’s sharpest skills. Their world threatens to fall apart if they fail, but their love may grow stronger than ever if they succeed in finding Jackie—before it’s too late.
She has also kindly agreed to an interview and even has an excerpt from her current release to share. So please welcome Lou!
Where did you get your start in writing?
Oh, it’s hard to give a straight answer for that! This is really more of a chronology. I wrote a song on the way to school in second grade—don’t tell, but I think it was mostly plagiarized. I wrote stories with the great encouragement of my eighth grade English teacher,Mrs. Horne. As an adult the college I attended was non-traditional and required a lot of writing of all kinds. I’ve “always” written, but it wasn’t until the late 1980s that I started to submit work. In 1992 I had some stories appear in an anthology, but I really got serious about writing for publication around 2005 or so. I took a couple of classes, wrote, submitted, and had published a YA novel, and had a good number of short stories published in various markets. (All of that was under a different name.)
How did you come up with the idea for the Vasquez and James series?
It was evolution. In the YA novel I mentioned above I had a couple of characters that weren’t really written as gay (or not gay) more or less declare (to me) their love for each other, and commence a torrid (off the page) love affair. I wrote them a story or two, thinking I could put them to rest, but they kept nagging at me. They evolved a bit with the stories, but when I first outlined a novel for them it involved paranormal type things. Occupied with other things, I left them alone for a while, and then when I went to work with those characters again, I had a “keep it simple” revelation. The characters became Luki Vasquez and Sonny James, and they seemed quite comfortable with the mundane world I put them in. That was the long answer; short answer—the characters drove me to the concept.
How many ongoing writing projects do you have? How do you find the time to keep up with all of them?
Good question. Counting them up, and not counting the ones that have been dormant for a year or more or the ones that are only concepts at this point, I have five. I honestly have not been able to keep up with them all, but at the moment, beginning just recently,writing is my day job, so I’m in the process of figuring out how I’ll arrange my hours and days. Presumably, I’ll be able to keep up better. That’s not exactly a given though, because the more time I have the more ideas seem to demand my attention.
Who is your favorite character and why?
I’m not sure if you want a favorite character from my own work, or from some other author. If I’m answering from my own characters, it’s fairly easy. Luki Vasquez is my favorite, because he’s strong, and skilled, and decisive, and gorgeous but scarred, and all icy outside but soft in his heart of hearts, he’s a protector, first and foremost, and he will do anything to keep someone safe. And all that doesn’t really cover it. I don’t so much want to know him as I want to be him.
What line that you've written makes you smile or laugh every time you read it?
It’s sort of impossible for me to choose one. I’ll just go with this, which is from early in Loving Luki Vasquez, when Luki is giving Sonny an impromptu tai chi lesson on the beach.
As he would with any other student, Luki stood behind him, using his own hands to guide Sonny through the move. He wondered if he could get away with teaching him all the rest of the moves in just that way. Perhaps for hours. Every day. For a long time.
Would you care to share an excerpt for any of your WIPs or current books?
Here’s an excerpt from Finding Jackie, my most recent release:
Sonny woke in the gold of a summer desert dawn having saved himself from the dream, the one he’d had over and over since last year, when he and Luki had shared their first living nightmare. One involving blood, insanity, Delsyn and a bomb. The event had taken Del’s freedom, and led to a domino chain of horrors: bullets and bodies and cliff sides and copter blades. And Delsyn died. Sonny hadn’t had the dream for weeks, and he didn’t know why it was returning now, unless maybe it was just because they were heading for Nebraska where the worst of it had started, but he was glad he’d been able to shake himself free of it before it really got rolling. He looked at Luki’s dark form, thankful that his lover slept peacefully, this particular night, no trace on his face or in his breathing of fighting his own nightmares.
Sonny swallowed water from the glass on the night table, and lay back down, curling close to his man, who also functioned as safety equipment. He closed his eyes, breathing a deep sigh when Luki, in his sleep, wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. Instantly, darkness and Luki’s scent—its warmth as always unexpected but welcome—enveloped him. Luki muttered something soothing though he didn’t wake, and Sonny felt safe. Sonny felt protected as he never could remember feeling before—even as a child—except with Luki. He closed his eyes, sure that his dreams of horrors couldn’t penetrate the Luki Vasquez stronghold; sure that sweet sleep would be his until time to rise. He almost stirred when he was assailed with a sudden, deep-seated knowledge that daylight would bring trouble, but he’d have to deal with those problems when they were in his lap.
He yawned. Luki sighed. Sonny slept for a time.
He woke again, but this time he cried out—it was almost a scream—and Luki sat up too. Sonny heard himself babbling. He knew what he meant to say, and he knew it was coming out garbled, but he couldn’t stop. Luki wrapped both arms around Sonny, cradled his head against his beating heart.
“Hey, baby!” Luki crooned. “Hey, shush, now. It’s okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”
Sonny did quiet down, then, but when Luki kissed his eyelids, he realized there were tears leaking from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Luki. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He looked out the window and realized the sun hadn’t really moved from when he woke from his first nightmare. “Oh, God,” he said, and leaned out of Luki’s shelter to get the tumbler of water off the bedside table.
“Tell me?” Luki asked. “You had another dream earlier. Were they the same?”
“No, that first one was the usual—you know, Delsyn and lots of blood and those fucking helicopters.” Luki said nothing, simply waited as Sonny paused to get situateed securely against his chest again, inside the circle of his arms. Once there, safe, he said, “The second dream was about… Jackie and Josh… and that Rita. Luki, I don’t have a good feeling.”
Luki was obviously too careful to jump into the middle of that.
Panic bubbled just below Sonny’s solar plexus and he thought Luki could probably see it. Luki’s hands made soothing movements, and quietly, calmly, he said. “Can you tell me more? Tell me what you mean when you say you don’t have a good feeling? Why?”
Sonny shook his head almost violently. “I don’t know why! I wish I did, maybe I could put a stop to it. But… I can’t explain. Ever since the wedding—no, even before that, when Jackie called us on Skype—remember?”
“Yeah. Asking all kinds of questions about kinky stuff and hinting around that his sexuality scared him, or that he thought he might be twisted because of what people did to him. It was a little weird. At least for me. I don’t have enough practice being an uncle, I guess.”
“Well, it was a little weird for me too, and I do have practice being an uncle.” Sonny went silent, unwillingly thinking of Delsyn’s painful death. He shook his head again, this time to clear it. “Anyway, ever since then I just have a feeling that something scary is going on right under my nose and I don’t even know it.”
***
Luki sighed and pulled Sonny up out of bed, drew him to stand against him, full contact. It wasn’t sex—well, sex was always there when they touched like that, but that wasn’t the purpose of the hug. When Luki wrapped his arms around Sonny, it was solely with the idea of giving his beloved the opportunity to melt for a moment. Give him a few seconds where he didn’t have to be anything, not brave, or witty, or kind, or thoughtful, or angry, or scared. Nothing. And Sonny took advantage, or so it seemed to Luki. Despite the fact that Sonny was a couple of inches taller, Luki’s greater mass served as anchor and Sonny simply fell into him, laying his head on Luki’s shoulder and letting himself drift.
When Sonny moved, after a length of time that neither one measured, Luki walked him to the little bathroom, turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature, put Sonny in the shower, and washed him down with sponge, soap, water, and love. Throughout the process he murmured, “Let it go, baby,” and “It’ll be okay,” and “You’re beautiful and I love you.”
Buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=551
What are your writing habits?
As I mentioned they are kind of undergoing change to some degree, but in general, I like to start my writing day by going back over what I’d written the day before, and I admit I edit and revise while the work is in process. I try to sit down to new writing fairly early in the day if possible, but only if I’m going to be able to write uninterrupted for a while. I myself do interrupt writing for research, though, which is a great pleasure. I admit I do also steal a half hour here, an hour there and write if opportunity presents itself. I outline a bit, I seat-of-the-pants it a little bit, too.
Tell me:
One favorite book:
Green Grass, Running Water (by Thomas King)
One movie:
Edward Scissorhands (with Johnny Depp)
One city:
Victoria BC, Canada
One color:
Naples Yellow
One smell:
Cedar
One moment in time:
When I first held my newborn grandson.
Any words for your fans?
Thank you! You’re wonderful. Stay in touch!
Links to find and/or bug Lou:
Website: http://www.sylvre.com
Lou's Blog: http://www/sylvre.com/blog/
Email: lou.sylvre(at)gmail.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lou.sylvre;https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLouSylvre?ref=hl
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sylvre
Goodreads blog:http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4873260.Lou_Sylvre/blog
I hope everyone enjoyed themselves, I know I did. Now go, enjoy Lou's new book!
May 16, 2013
Lost...
It has arrived. After a long journey, the anthology to raise awareness about homeless LGBT youth is finally here.
Bridges and Angels by MF Kays
A Ghost of a Chance by Diane Adams
A Chance with a Ghost by T.A. Webb
Protective Instincts by Tabatha Hart
Blessing by Dakota Chase
The Preacher’s Son by Caitlin Ricci
Clay Rocks by T.A. Webb
Sam I Am by Jeff Erno
Thrown Away by D.C. Juris
You Have Never Mattered by Michele L. Montgomery
I Have Always Mattered by D.H. Starr
The profits of this anthology will be going to a charity of the same name (totally by coincidence) - Lost-n-Found - which serves homeless LGBT youth.
Help support our youth and get your copy HERE.
April 3, 2013
Beginning Again... Again
Mischief Corner Books is re-releasing
April 6th, 2013
in both ebook and print. eBook will be for $5.99 while the print edition will go for $12.99.
BlurbMonths after waking from a car accident that took everything David held dear, he's trying to settle into a new life at CRU. There's only one problem. Well, three, his roommates: Bobby, Chris and Austin. They want to experience life now that they're out from under their parents' watchful eyes, and for David to partake in the fun with them. David feels he's experienced enough life already and just wants to be left alone.
Bobby sees how David watches him, Chris and Austin. He's convinced their hard-ass roommate just needs a little nudge and David would open up. When Bobby comes back to the dorm unannounced, looking for an English paper for class, Bobby finds out why David's been holding them at arms length and becomes determined to help his roommate rejoin the world of the here and now.The only problem is: David has more secrets he doesn't want anyone to know about.
NOTE: There are references to rape, and some graphic violence, in the story.
PLEASE NOTE: This title was previously released with another publisher. This a reedited second edition.
ExcerptJunnosuke Ito stared at one David McCourt. The young man sitting in front of him had asked to work in his Biochemistry lab at the university. Dumbfounded and confused—though Jun could never admit to such a thing—he'd swear up and down David looked exactly like Absalom Feld. Jun's driver's license stated his age as fifty-two and Abby would be the same, but the uncanny resemblance his interviewee had to his friend shook Jun. The bright blue eyes, David's thick and wavy dirty blond hair, the lithe build, his average height—all of it, a perfect carbon copy of the friend Jun had lost so many years before. They were so similar Jun almost caught himself calling the young student by Abby's name.Jun's heart ached and his fingers twitched. He wanted to call Henry Wilson and tell him about the young man in front of him. Henry, Jun's best friend and confidante since Abby's disappearance, was the only other person who had gone through the same loss and pain he had. Henry carried the same gnarled wound that dug into Jun's chest, the one flaring incessantly as a reminder of his mistakes as he looked at David sitting across from him. Only Henry would understand, but Jun couldn't call, not before David left.The professor listened to David talk about his research and why the young man wanted to be in his lab. Jun nodded at all the right intervals, but he struggled underneath his cool façade. Flashes of Abby slammed into him, making Jun think about how he hadn't done as much as he could have when his best friend's relationship status had been repeatedly rejected and denied by Neil Cook, the fourth member of their close knit group. Jun watched his blond friend go from smiling, loving, and slightly clumsy when they were undergraduates, to quiet and reserved in graduate school. All of it, the whole transformation, just so Abby could hang onto Neil.But Neil, now the university's president, never acknowledged Abby as the love of his life. Henry and Jun blindly believed things would change. They did. Abby and Neil's lack of a real relationship got to the point where Abby just up and disappeared one day, not long after an incident at a nightclub, an event that left Abby with broken ribs and a black eye. Henry and Jun's friendship with Neil splintered after Abby disappeared. They went their separate ways, promising to never speak with the man again, only to be thrust back together when Neil took the head position at Capstone Ridge University, better known as CRU. A hiring choice Jun fought against, but lost. He did not want his one time friend coming back to his beloved campus. Reconciling with Neil would never happen. When Abby left, the friendship between Jun, Henry, and Neil fragmented, permanently and irrevocably.Now with David talking enthusiastically to Jun about his research, the past came up and hit him in the stomach, kicking him in the ass when he went down, laughing and taunting him as a world of renewed regret piled back onto him. Jun lost himself in his thoughts until the young man cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at him. Concern and resignation marred the young man's clear blue eyes. Jun returned his steady gaze to David, attempting to clear his thoughts of a friend lost but never forgotten."I'm sorry; you said you're a transfer?""Yes, I'm starting here as a sophomore after getting accepted from a community college in Flagstead."Jun looked down at the resume and transcripts David brought with him and nodded, hearing the young man but still struggling with containing his emotions. "So why did you pick CRU?"A weak smile crossed David's face, one Jun had seen on Abby many times, and Jun's breathing nearly stopped. The slight curve on David's lips didn't show happiness, but loss and misery. Even though the young man grinned, it never managed to reach his eyes—blue eyes desperately trying to keep up appearances and not let any emotion through. But Jun noticed. He had firsthand experience with those kinds of feelings and the fact they came from someone so similar to his missing best friend did a number on Jun."I'm not trying to pry, I was just wondering why our science program stood out to you over the other universities," he said softly and pointed at the transcripts. "Your grades are excellent."David shrugged, wariness filling his face. "I like the Biology program here and the research the university is doing. The college in Flagstead is more of a liberal arts school, easy going and open-minded, but I'm a science major, not an art major. Besides that, it was an economical decision. Paying in-state is a lot cheaper than going out of state."Jun had to agree. "Yes it is, but CRU isn't exactly an open-minded school.""No. No, it's not," replied David, a look of irritation crossing his face. "But this one was close to home and it has the specific program I wanted.""Yes, I'm sorry, you mentioned that," said Jun as he racked his brain, the shock of seeing an Abby-clone affecting him to his very core. Did he even make any sense at all at this point? "CRU is a wonderful school and I'm sure you'll enjoy your time here.""I hope so." A pained expression flittered across David's face. "My family was really excited when I got the acceptance letter.""Then you'll have to make them proud, won't you?"David visibly paled and pulled a tight grimace that was probably supposed to be a smile. "Yeah, I guess I do.""So, would you like to see the lab?" Jun pushed back from his desk, knowing he should think the offer through a little more, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed David close by, to be able to keep an eye on the kid, to make sure nothing bad happened to him.Maybe he could atone for the mistakes he made with Abby.Shock filled David's eyes before he stammered out an answer. "You mean I have the job?""Yes.""Oh! Uh, thanks!"A grin tugged at the corner of Jun's lips. He knew his reputation, what the kids said, about how hard it was to get accepted into his lab. Obviously David had heard the rumors, too. The look of disbelief spoke volumes. David had not been expecting to get the lab assistant job offered to him on the spot or at all."No problem, I think I've seen enough to know a good thing when I've found it." Jun opened his office door and waved for David to follow him.A faint tint of red appeared on the young man's cheeks, reminding Jun even more of Abby. A sharp tug pulled in Jun's chest. He very much missed his old friend, and with David around, a constant reminder would be walking around the lab daily. Jun shook his head. The minute the boy walked through his door Jun knew he wouldn't be able to let go. Abby was gone and this boy was so very much like his long lost friend.Jun took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, knowing he needed to call Henry once he showed David the lab. How would he explain Abby's ghost showing up on his doorstep?
Excerpt End
Link to BookMischief Corner Books - Beginning Again
April 6th, 2013
in both ebook and print. eBook will be for $5.99 while the print edition will go for $12.99.
BlurbMonths after waking from a car accident that took everything David held dear, he's trying to settle into a new life at CRU. There's only one problem. Well, three, his roommates: Bobby, Chris and Austin. They want to experience life now that they're out from under their parents' watchful eyes, and for David to partake in the fun with them. David feels he's experienced enough life already and just wants to be left alone.
Bobby sees how David watches him, Chris and Austin. He's convinced their hard-ass roommate just needs a little nudge and David would open up. When Bobby comes back to the dorm unannounced, looking for an English paper for class, Bobby finds out why David's been holding them at arms length and becomes determined to help his roommate rejoin the world of the here and now.The only problem is: David has more secrets he doesn't want anyone to know about.
NOTE: There are references to rape, and some graphic violence, in the story.
PLEASE NOTE: This title was previously released with another publisher. This a reedited second edition.
ExcerptJunnosuke Ito stared at one David McCourt. The young man sitting in front of him had asked to work in his Biochemistry lab at the university. Dumbfounded and confused—though Jun could never admit to such a thing—he'd swear up and down David looked exactly like Absalom Feld. Jun's driver's license stated his age as fifty-two and Abby would be the same, but the uncanny resemblance his interviewee had to his friend shook Jun. The bright blue eyes, David's thick and wavy dirty blond hair, the lithe build, his average height—all of it, a perfect carbon copy of the friend Jun had lost so many years before. They were so similar Jun almost caught himself calling the young student by Abby's name.Jun's heart ached and his fingers twitched. He wanted to call Henry Wilson and tell him about the young man in front of him. Henry, Jun's best friend and confidante since Abby's disappearance, was the only other person who had gone through the same loss and pain he had. Henry carried the same gnarled wound that dug into Jun's chest, the one flaring incessantly as a reminder of his mistakes as he looked at David sitting across from him. Only Henry would understand, but Jun couldn't call, not before David left.The professor listened to David talk about his research and why the young man wanted to be in his lab. Jun nodded at all the right intervals, but he struggled underneath his cool façade. Flashes of Abby slammed into him, making Jun think about how he hadn't done as much as he could have when his best friend's relationship status had been repeatedly rejected and denied by Neil Cook, the fourth member of their close knit group. Jun watched his blond friend go from smiling, loving, and slightly clumsy when they were undergraduates, to quiet and reserved in graduate school. All of it, the whole transformation, just so Abby could hang onto Neil.But Neil, now the university's president, never acknowledged Abby as the love of his life. Henry and Jun blindly believed things would change. They did. Abby and Neil's lack of a real relationship got to the point where Abby just up and disappeared one day, not long after an incident at a nightclub, an event that left Abby with broken ribs and a black eye. Henry and Jun's friendship with Neil splintered after Abby disappeared. They went their separate ways, promising to never speak with the man again, only to be thrust back together when Neil took the head position at Capstone Ridge University, better known as CRU. A hiring choice Jun fought against, but lost. He did not want his one time friend coming back to his beloved campus. Reconciling with Neil would never happen. When Abby left, the friendship between Jun, Henry, and Neil fragmented, permanently and irrevocably.Now with David talking enthusiastically to Jun about his research, the past came up and hit him in the stomach, kicking him in the ass when he went down, laughing and taunting him as a world of renewed regret piled back onto him. Jun lost himself in his thoughts until the young man cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at him. Concern and resignation marred the young man's clear blue eyes. Jun returned his steady gaze to David, attempting to clear his thoughts of a friend lost but never forgotten."I'm sorry; you said you're a transfer?""Yes, I'm starting here as a sophomore after getting accepted from a community college in Flagstead."Jun looked down at the resume and transcripts David brought with him and nodded, hearing the young man but still struggling with containing his emotions. "So why did you pick CRU?"A weak smile crossed David's face, one Jun had seen on Abby many times, and Jun's breathing nearly stopped. The slight curve on David's lips didn't show happiness, but loss and misery. Even though the young man grinned, it never managed to reach his eyes—blue eyes desperately trying to keep up appearances and not let any emotion through. But Jun noticed. He had firsthand experience with those kinds of feelings and the fact they came from someone so similar to his missing best friend did a number on Jun."I'm not trying to pry, I was just wondering why our science program stood out to you over the other universities," he said softly and pointed at the transcripts. "Your grades are excellent."David shrugged, wariness filling his face. "I like the Biology program here and the research the university is doing. The college in Flagstead is more of a liberal arts school, easy going and open-minded, but I'm a science major, not an art major. Besides that, it was an economical decision. Paying in-state is a lot cheaper than going out of state."Jun had to agree. "Yes it is, but CRU isn't exactly an open-minded school.""No. No, it's not," replied David, a look of irritation crossing his face. "But this one was close to home and it has the specific program I wanted.""Yes, I'm sorry, you mentioned that," said Jun as he racked his brain, the shock of seeing an Abby-clone affecting him to his very core. Did he even make any sense at all at this point? "CRU is a wonderful school and I'm sure you'll enjoy your time here.""I hope so." A pained expression flittered across David's face. "My family was really excited when I got the acceptance letter.""Then you'll have to make them proud, won't you?"David visibly paled and pulled a tight grimace that was probably supposed to be a smile. "Yeah, I guess I do.""So, would you like to see the lab?" Jun pushed back from his desk, knowing he should think the offer through a little more, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed David close by, to be able to keep an eye on the kid, to make sure nothing bad happened to him.Maybe he could atone for the mistakes he made with Abby.Shock filled David's eyes before he stammered out an answer. "You mean I have the job?""Yes.""Oh! Uh, thanks!"A grin tugged at the corner of Jun's lips. He knew his reputation, what the kids said, about how hard it was to get accepted into his lab. Obviously David had heard the rumors, too. The look of disbelief spoke volumes. David had not been expecting to get the lab assistant job offered to him on the spot or at all."No problem, I think I've seen enough to know a good thing when I've found it." Jun opened his office door and waved for David to follow him.A faint tint of red appeared on the young man's cheeks, reminding Jun even more of Abby. A sharp tug pulled in Jun's chest. He very much missed his old friend, and with David around, a constant reminder would be walking around the lab daily. Jun shook his head. The minute the boy walked through his door Jun knew he wouldn't be able to let go. Abby was gone and this boy was so very much like his long lost friend.Jun took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, knowing he needed to call Henry once he showed David the lab. How would he explain Abby's ghost showing up on his doorstep?
Excerpt End
Link to BookMischief Corner Books - Beginning Again
March 31, 2013
Doing things a little Different
Autism Fact (for April 14th): Dogs have been shown to improve autistic children's quality of life, independence and safety.
Hello Everyone!
Thank you for stopping by.
*drawing info at the bottom
I am very glad to be taking part of RJ's blog hop for Autism awareness. It's something that is near and dear to my heart for many reasons because there are multiple people in my family along the spectrum.
Now the theme for this year's hop is PREJUDICE, and I'm sure there will be/has been a gambit of blogs about all the different kinds of bigotry in one form or another.
What I wanted to talk about what subtle bigotry, bullying or prejudicial remarks. I caution the post kind of meanders a bit, but I hope you get my point.
It's often the small remarks that can get overlooked and build over a period of time until certain prejudices are ingrained into us before we know it.Some are easier to see than others, especially when violence is involved. But some biases are more subtle and harder to pinpoint because they aren't outright attacks or the attacks are deemed 'socially justified'.
The kid who gets teased because he's fat. Or the one who gets pushed around or tripped the locker room because he's just effeminate enough for people to think he's gay. Or the snide remarks heard about the slutty girl who had sex at such and such a party over the weekend. Or when a bus full of kids throw food at the one Muslim girl in the back.
Those were all things I was confronted with and had to deal with. All of them uncomfortable but I couldn't just look away. That's not how I was taught.
Often when people are confronted with these kind of situations, they try to avoid it. It's uncomfortable and, especially when we're younger, it's hard to know how/when to step in because of fear and peer pressure. Now I'm not saying everybody does because we wouldn't have 'heros' or 'activists' and so forth if everyone did - but a lot of people do.
A lot of us do stupid things when we're kids, it's part of growing up. Awareness and upbringing can help curb these kinds of acts, but they still happen and there are still bystanders who watch instead of defend.
There is actually a name for that: it's called the Bystander Effect .
People can get angry and complain and say 'how can people do that?' We are all taught rights and wrongs, and most of us have a pretty good idea once we hit a certain stage in developed as we're growing up where we know whether or not we're going to get in trouble if we do something. So why makes waves when we don't have to?
I can remember once when I was about six saying I didn't eat all the raspberries off the plants out back. I had, but there was no way I was going to admit to it if I didn't have to.
Too bad I got sick as a dog. Definitely learned my lesson though.
But then there's the next level, the one around junior high or high school (sometimes sooner) when we begin to notice the inconsistencies and the double standards that the adults have but don't tell us about. We notice them treating a person with certain clothing one way while someone else is treated another - the same thing can be said for skin color, sexual orientation and even hobbies. This means we're getting mixed messages about what is right, and some of us get angry while others of us are left to figure out what the adults really mean.
For me, this was a stage where I was glad my parents didn't give me mixes messages like I saw from my friends get. My parents always said this is how you treat people no matter what which is what my grandparents taught to them.
I can honestly remember getting into high school and being confused as to why someone would get picked on because they were gay. I had cousins who had two moms and no one in my family ever treated the relationship any differently than the heterosexual ones. No one told me it was wrong so it never occurred to me to think that it was. I used to walk with a friend to class every day and when I got to the English class we'd kiss. Not the sticking our tongues down each other's throats kind but a peck on the lips and a hug. I honestly didn't know it would mean people would talk about me. When some girl came up to me and tapped me on my shoulder and when I turned around her response was 'I thought so,' I became confused until my friend explained it to me. I asked if we should stop but the response I got was 'You do things differently, everybody knows that.'
Those words hurt.
Because they disregarded a lot of things. 'You do things different' - like that was an explanation in of itself. Like it made everything okay. But what it pointed out was that people saw me as 'odd' or 'weird', and that I wasn't 'normal'.
I smiled and shrugged it off, but always in the back of my head, I wondered whether or not I was being normal. I went about doing the things I liked and enjoyed them, but there were times there were snickers or comments of 'only you', and instead of me feeling proud like I do today, I felt dirty and wrong.
I was an impressionable youth, and I was given the impression I was a weird and it was bad.
Now I glory in my weirdness and am more comfortable in my skin. When people say 'only you', I smile. I hold the people close to me that appreciate my many talents, but at 14, it's a whole lot harder knowing you're the one people are noticing but not really wanting the attention. It's even harder to bring it up to your own parents. Mine had told me the same thing over and over again, so I knew what the response would be.
When we were adolescents, still at a vulnerable age, we were trying to be adults but don't always have the know how. When left to our own devices, you don't know what kind of mixed bag you're going to get.
A little guidance, a kind word, a talk can go a long way in helping figure it out. Sometimes it can comes from unsuspecting places. As teens, we didn't always get those and sometimes we just didn't always listen. But to have the option, to know someone really cares when they talk - that makes a huge difference. It can help take the fine line of what is right or wrong and put it back into focus.
Honesty does, too. Knowing someone will say, 'yeah, that's sucks' or 'it's confusing' can make the insecurities better. Maybe not fix them, but having your voice heard helps work through the feelings.
It's also those small talks that can turn small comments into understanding, and understanding breeds growth.
I got that small word when I was 15 from my high school chemistry teacher. He thought I was a cool kid and my own kind of weird, but in a good way. Whenever I needed to get away he and the other teachers would give me their papers to grade and I'd sit in their office grading as I listened to them talk. For once, I felt normal. I won't say their conversations fixed all my insecurities at once, but one thing stuck after a while: I was a fun, neat kid, and high school lasted for 4 years. It seems like forever while you're in it, but it's over real fast, and I needed to be happy with me.
It was small things said here and there. Positives ones. Constant ones. Words that didn't contradict each other, and actions that followed those words. And it was the adults in my life that gave them to me, not the other kids.
When you're the one sticking out in the crowd, sometimes that's just what you need.
Well, I think I said my piece. Small words, small actions, can make a huge difference in a person's life. Hopefully, they will be used in a positive way and not a negative one.
Drawing
I have a drawing for a free ebook of your choice. I have currently gotten the rights back to 5 of my stories so I only have three available for you at the moment - Cabin for Two: An Anthology, Awakening and Beginning Again: Finding Peace 1. If you have those, I do have some future stories that will be coming out and will be glad to put you down for those.
Leave your email and tell me what small word or action made a difference in your life or someone you knew.
I will draw at the end of the month and pick two winners.
Thanks for stopping by everyone!
March 6, 2013
A tease...
Nøkken by Theodor Kittelsen c. 1904Oh, I am having fuuunnnnn.... *Smiles*
Definitely something different from me.
