B.A. Tortuga's Blog, page 36
July 23, 2015
July 22, 2015
July 21, 2015
Guest Blog: Roan Parrish
In the Middle of Somewhere | Roan Parrish
Daniel meets Rex when he comes to the little northern Michigan town of Holiday to interview for a job at Sleeping Bear College. Sleeping Bear isn’t a real college, but it is a real place. Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore is on the northwest coast of the Lower Peninsula, right on Lake Michigan. It’s beautiful—the dunes are vivid yellow against the blue of sky and water, and you can run down the dunes, arms spread, collapse into the sand, and see nothing but sky above you. One disastrous summer I agreed to go to a sleep-away camp the next town over and hated it so much that I spent a lot of my time scheming ways to run away and go live in the dunes.
The dunes are named after the Chippewa legend of the Sleeping Bear. The legend goes that a mother bear and her two cubs were fleeing famine (or a forest fire—the legends differ) in Wisconsin and, looking out over the water to Michigan, decided to try and swim across the lake. As they swam closer and closer to shore, one by one, both cubs drowned. When the mother bear made it to land, she slumped down on the beach, devastated, looking back at the water that had claimed her cubs. Seeing her grief, the Great Spirit Manitou created two islands (North and South Manitou) to commemorate the cubs she’d lost. The lone dune itself represents the mother bear, lying always alone, looking out at the water.
Fortunately, Daniel has a bit of a cheerier association with bears! This excerpt is from the very beginning of In the Middle of Somewhere, when Daniel is in Michigan for the first time.
Excerpt:
I toss my bag in the door of my rental car and practically throw myself in after it. Once the door is safely closed, I slump into the seat, close my eyes, and curse the entire state of Michigan. If Michigan didn’t exist, then I wouldn’t be sitting in a rental car at the edge of Sleeping Bear College’s tiny campus, having a premature midlife crisis at thirty.
I just spent the day interviewing for a job at Sleeping Bear, a small liberal arts college I’d never even heard of until six months ago. My interview went well, my teaching demonstration went even better, and I’m pretty sure I never let my cuffs slide up to show my tattoos. I could tell they liked me, and they seemed enthusiastic about hiring someone young to help them build the department. As they talked about independent studies and dual majors, I mentally catalogued all the bear puns I could. Of course, what they’d think if they found out that I associate bears’ hairy chests and lumbering gaits with large men drinking beer instead of the college, the nearby dunes, and the animal they are named for, I can’t say.
I’ve been working my ass off to get where I am today, and all I can think is that I’m a fraud. I’m not an English professor. I’m just some queer little punk from Philadelphia who the smart kids slummed it with. Just ask my ex. Just ask my father. Ask my brothers, especially. God, what the hell am I doing here?
Sleeping Bear is the only college where I got an interview and it is in the middle of fucking nowhere—near some place called Traverse City (which is definitely not a city, based on anything I’ve ever seen). I had to drive for nearly four hours after I flew to Detroit to get here. I could have gotten closer with a connecting flight in a tiny plane, but I’ll be damned if the first time I ever flew I was going to crash into one of the Great Lakes. No, overland travel was good enough for me, even if the flight, the rental car, and the suit I bought for the visit put me even deeper in the hole than I was before. At least I saved a hundred bucks getting the red-eye from Detroit to Philly tomorrow night.
I shudder when I think what my credit card bill will look like this month. Good thing I can turn the heat off in my apartment in a few weeks when it gets above forty degrees. Not like there’s anyone there except me. My friends from school never want to come to my neighborhood, claiming it’s more convenient to go places near campus. Richard, my ex, wouldn’t be caught dead in my apartment, which he referred to as “the crack house.” Asshole. And I only see my brothers and my dad at their auto shop. Still, I love Philly; I’ve lived there all my life. Moving—especially to the middle of nowhere—well, even the thought is freaking me out.
Now, all I want is to go back to my shitty little motel room, order a pizza, and fall asleep in front of crappy TV. I sigh and start the rental car I can’t afford.
I have to admit, though, the road from the school to my motel is beautiful. All the hotels near campus are cute (read: expensive) bed and breakfast joints, so I booked in at the Motel 6 outside of town. It’s down a two-lane road that seems to follow the tree line. To my left are fields and the occasional dirt road turnoff with signs I can’t read in the near-dark. God, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since an ill-advised Dunkin’ Donuts egg sandwich at the airport.
It’s really cold so far north, but I crack the window to breathe the sweet smell of fresh air and trees anyway. It’s actually really peaceful out here. Quiet. It isn’t something I’m used to—quiet, I mean. Library-quiet and middle-of-the-night quiet, sure. But in the city there’s always noise. This is a quiet that feels like water and trees and, well, nature, I guess; like the time my parents took us to the Jersey Shore when we were kids and I hid under the boardwalk away from the crowds, listening to the overwhelming sound of the ocean and the creak of docks.
And peace? Well, never peace. If it wasn’t one of my asshole brothers starting shit with me, it was my dad flipping his lid over me being gay. Of course, later my lack of peace came in the form of Richard, my ex, who, while we were together, was apparently sleeping with every gay man at the University of Pennsylvania.
My hands tighten on the wheel as I picture Richard, his handsome face set in an expression of haughty condescension as he leveled me with one nauseating smile. “Come on, Dan,” he said, like we had discussed this before, “who believes in monogamy anymore? Don’t be so bourgeois.” And, “It’s not like we’re exclusive.” That, after we’d been together for two years—or so I’d thought—and I’d taken him to my brother Sam’s wedding.
Anyway, I hate being called Dan.
I grit my teeth and force myself to take a deep breath. No more thinking about Richard. I promised myself. I glance down at the scrap of paper where I scrawled the directions to my motel. I can almost taste the buttery cheese and crispy pizza crust and my stomach growls. When I look back up a second later, something darts into the road in front of me. I swerve hard to the right, but I hear a sickening whine the second before the car veers into a tree.
Title: In the Middle of Somewhere (In the Middle of Somewhere, #1)
Author: Roan Parrish
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Publication Date: July 10, 2015
Word Count: 138,000 words
Buy Links:
Dreamspinner ebook: http://bit.ly/1GpyB0u
Dreamspinner paperback: http://bit.ly/1H4sVrX
Amazon ebook: http://amzn.to/1R9kDqH
Barnes & Noble ebook: http://bit.ly/1GNQjXj
AllRomance ebook: http://bit.ly/1Kfw3DB
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1J1bpmt
Google play ebook: http://bit.ly/1f5PMdH
Blurb:
DANIEL MULLIGAN is tough, snarky, and tattooed, hiding his self-consciousness behind sarcasm. Daniel has never fit in—not at home with his auto mechanic father and brothers, and not at school where his Ivy League classmates look down on him. Now, Daniel’s relieved to have a job at a small college in Northern Michigan, but, a city boy through and through, when Daniel arrives in Holiday, Michigan, it’s clear that this small town is one more place he just won’t fit in.REX VALE clings to routine to keep loneliness at bay: honing his large, muscular body until it can handle anything, perfecting his recipes, and making custom furniture. Rex has lived in Holiday for years, but his shyness and imposing size have kept him from connecting with people. Though he loves the quiet and solitude of his little cabin in the woods, Rex can’t help but want someone to share it with.When Daniel arrives in Holiday, they are smitten with each other, but though the sex is intense and explosive, Rex fears that Daniel will be one more in a long line of people to leave him, and Daniel has learned that letting anyone in could be a fatal weakness. Just as they begin to break down the walls that have been keeping them apart, Daniel is called home to Philadelphia where a secret is revealed that changes the way he understands everything.Can a scrappy professor, an intense carpenter, and a stray dog make a go of it in their cabin in thewoods? Sometimes, you have to go to the middle of nowhere to end up exactly where you want to be.
About the Author:
ROAN PARRISH grew up in Michigan and lives in Philadelphia, but is always a few minutes away from deciding to move. A former academic, she’s used to writing things that no one reads. She still loves to geek out about books, movies, TV, and music—now, though, she’s excited to be writing the kind of romantic, angsty stories that she loves to escape into.When not writing, she can usually be found cutting her friends’ hair, wandering through whatever city she’s in while listening to torch songs and melodic death metal, or cooking overly elaborate meals. One time she may or may not have baked a six-layer chocolate cake and then thrown it out the window in a fit of pique. She loves bonfires, winter beaches, minor chord harmonies, and cheese. But mostly cheese.
Social Media Contact Links:
website: roanparrish.com
twitter: @RoanParrish | twitter.com/@RoanParrish
facebook: roanparrish | facebook.com/roanparrish
instagram: @roanparrish | instagram.com/roanparrish
goodreads book page: http://bit.ly/1QIoRjm
amazon author page: http://amzn.to/1IHKTTz
July 20, 2015
Me and Movies
Okay, so one of the super duper weird things about me is that I love movies, but I HATE watching a movie for the first time. Hate it.
Don’t ask. I don’t know. I’m a nutcase. This is not news.
At any rate, my wife informed me, in no uncertain terms, that she was tired of not seeing movies for, oh, the last decade, because I’m a dork, so I promised one new to us movie a week.
So far this month we’ve watched Despicable Me, Despicable Me 2, The Minions, Inside Out, Frozen, Ouija and Guardians of the Galaxy.
I loved loved loved the whole Despicable Me franchise. Adored it. Julia says I’m like Gru and the little girls all put together. I said she was like the minions. All of them.
Frozen left me cold, pun intended, and Inside Out made me want to hit something.
Guardians of the Galaxy was okay if you had some knitting or a good book to read or a card game or something.
Ouija was surprisingly fun. I didn’t expect anything from it and it was clever, a fair boo factor and not gross. I enjoyed it.
Next? Avengers!
July 19, 2015
What I'm Working on this Week
Aussie vs Texan -- blame Poppy
Spaghetti Western -- don't ask. OMG. Fuzzy Geeks — ;-) In edits/rewrites:Rainbow Brew in rewrites
Refired in edits
Boys in the Band in edits
Needing to Breathe in edits At beta:nothing At proofing:City/Country Subbed:nothing Next week's plan?WRITE ALL THE WORDS!
July 18, 2015
What I'm Reading
7. Shadow Man by Cody Macfayden — I have to admit by the end I was furious and screaming. This could have been exceptional. It was not.
8. The Relaxation and Stress Reduction Workbook by Martha Davis — nothing I didn’t know, but I needed the reminder.
9. Writing the Cozy Mystery by Nancy Cohen — very interesting. This one’s a keeper.
10. Writing Mystery and Crime by Marg McAllister — for a beginning writer more than an experienced one, I think.
11. The Year of Pleasures by Elizabeth Berg — beautifully written, a lovely, warm read that’s like a hug. Gave me a lot to talk about with J.
12. Fermented Vegetables by Kirsten Shockey — cookbook, not the best read, but decent recipes
13. Borderline by TA Chase — loved it. Think the wife will love it, too.
14. In Cuba I Was a German Shepherd by Ana Menendez — a fabulous collection of short stories set in Cuba.
15. Poe by J. Lincoln Fenn — clever as hell, not scary, but viciously clever.
16. The Magpie Lord by KJ Charles — quite adored this one. Clever and utterly charming.
17. Wolf’s Desire by Ambrielle Kirk — Uh. Not my thing. At all. Whoa.
18. Controlling Parker by Sean Michael — KINKY
19. Dark Carnival: An Anthology of Horror, Edited by Jolene Haley, Kristen Jett and Jessi Shakarian — nothing happened. Ever.
20. Blue Collar by Sean Michael — adorable, sexy and sweet
21. Guarding January by Sean Michael — I love the depth of characters in this one
22. The Biker's Pup by Sean Michael -- you know whose story I want next, right?
23. Voices from the Moon by Andre Dubus -- I just want to write 1/200000th as well
24. Fearie Tales edited by Stephen Jones -- incredibly satisfying collection
25. Spirit Rider by Cotton Smith -- I got bored. :P
26. The Witch and the Gentleman by JR Rain
27. Super Structure by James Scott Bell
28. The Cowboy’s Pride and Joy by Laureen Child
29. The Year of Reading Dangerously by Andy Miller
July 17, 2015
A Kristi Story
So, I have a big, extended family. Everyone knows this.
When I was 5 1/2 Kristi showed up.
I thought she was magical. I mean, that was my baby — I held her on the car ride home from the hospital, I played Barbies with her for months. I colored with her every Saturday morning for years (while she watched Strawberry Shortcake; she was a freak for that cartoon). When I was a teenager, I would make stories up for her — we were princesses trapped in a caste, we were trapped on boulders in a lake of acid, we were magical witches and we had to make potions out of grass and flowers and mud.
My favorite Kristi memory is from the beginning, though. It was after dinner and Kristi was in her highchair — I remember it being avocado green, but I could totally be wrong. I was playing with one of our dogs — Brigitte was her name and she was a boxer. Brigitte and I were running around the table like mad fiends and suddenly Kristi just cracked up. I mean, laughed in that totally goofy way that infants have with a huge smile and totally glee.
Mother looked over at me and said, “You made the baby laugh! Her first laugh! Do it again!"
So I did.
And she did.
And that was it. I was the big sister. I was the one who could make her laugh. Me. That was MY baby.
Damn near forty years later (I can hear her saying, NOT YET), I can still make her laugh and she’s still my baby.
;-)
Much love, y’all.
BA
July 16, 2015
July 15, 2015
July 14, 2015
Guest Post -- J. Scott Coatsworth
Hey BA!
Thanks for welcoming me to your blog. I'm doing the rounds for a new release that's coming out tomorrow from Dreamspinner – "Between the Lines" – my mm romance meets political thriller meets mind-reading magical realism tale set in my current hometown of Sacramento.
I had a lot of fun writing this one. I was responding to a "call for submissions" from Dreamspinner for an anthology called "Random Acts of Kindness." I had this story opener I'd written some years before about this guy who goes into a curio store to find a gift for his girlfriend (yeah, I was waaaay less gay back then). It was only a couple scenes, and I thought that with a little work, it could make a pretty decent Random Acts story.
So I dusted it off, and decided to set it here in Sacramento. By that time I'd written a number of other stories, some set in places I knew (San Francisco, Portland, Seattle) and some in places I was mostly or totally unfamiliar with (London, New York) – thank God for Apple maps and the internet!
But I knowSacramento. Like practically carnally. So I set off to finish the story.
For anyone not familiar with Sacramento, it's a political town. When the legislators are here, it's pretty packed; On the weekends it really empties out. So I decided to put my characters in the heart of the action – in the Capitol Building. One, Brad, works as a Chief of Staff to a state Senator, and the other one, Same, is an intern in the same office.
I pounded out the story, and wrapped it up by the deadline. It was told from Brad's point of view, and it was fun to see the city through his eyes. I included a number of real places in Sacramento, as well as some imagined ones.
And then I sent it off.
The deadline came and went, and then, after a few more weeks, I got an email.
Rejected,
As an author, you know that sad feeling that comes over you when someone rejects your work. It's like they killed your puppy.
But as I read a little further, I was surprised, then pleased, then dancing in our living room. My husband Mark asked what was up, and I told him – they wanted me to extend my 7,500 word short story into a novella and to resubmit it as a stand-alone piece.
So I did. It took me a couple weeks. The obvious thing to do was to flesh out my second character, Sam – he took on a clear personality and back story, and I really think his part brings something warm and grounded to the story that was missing before.
And finally, as of tomorrow, the first book will be released with just my name on the cover.
I'm dancing again. :)
***
Blurb
Brad Weston’s life seems perfect. He’s GQ handsome, the Chief of Staff for a Republican California State Senator, and enjoys the power and the promise of a bright future. And he’s in a comfortable relationship with his boyfriend of six years, Alex.
Sam Fuller is Brad’s young, blond, blue-eyed intern, fresh out of college, running from a bad break-up, and questioning his choices and his new life in politics. To make things worse, Sam also has a thing for the boss, but Brad is already taken.
While looking for a gift for his boyfriend, Brad wanders into a curiosity shop and becomes fascinated by an old wooden medallion. Brad's not a superstitious man, but when he takes out the medallion in his office, he sees the world in a new light. And nothing will ever be the same.
Excerpt
It began with a medallion.
The piece was a simple wooden disk, hand carved with the shapes of leaves and forest boughs and polished by centuries of use, giving it a patina of great age.
It sat upon a small green velvet pillow—the kind jewelers sometimes use, rather unsuccessfully, to enhance a plain necklace of false pearls. The kind you might expect to find on your grandmother’s settee, in a slightly larger size, embroidered with “Home Sweet Home.”
Yet there was something compulsive about it—something hidden in the dark crevices of the carving, filled with the dust of ages.
At least that’s what Brad would recall years later, when he thought back on the first time he saw it: the moment when the lines of his mundane life suddenly snarled, snapped, and ultimately recombined into something quite different.
Of course, he didn’t know any of this at the time.
Buy Links
Dreamspinner: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6645
Author Bio
Scott has been writing since elementary school, when he and won a University of Arizona writing contest in 4th grade for his first sci fi story (with illustrations!). He finished his first novel in his mid twenties, but after seeing it rejected by ten publishers, he gave up on writing for a while.
Over the ensuing years, he came back to it periodically, but it never stuck. Then one day, he was complaining to Mark, his husband, early last year about how he had been derailed yet again by the death of a family member, and Mark said to him “the only one stopping you from writing is you.”
Since then, Scott has gone back to writing in a big way, finishing more than a dozen short stories – some new, some that he had started years before – and seeing his first sale. He’s embarking on a new trilogy, and also runs the Queer Sci Fi (http://www.queerscifi.com) site, a support group for writers of gay sci fi, fantasy, and supernatural fiction.
Website: http://www.jscottcoatsworth.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth
