B.A. Tortuga's Blog, page 65
January 8, 2014
Wayback Wednesday: Cabin Fever
Available at Torquere Press, Amazon, and All Romance
So, Cabin Fever. This was a challenge from Sean Michael, of course. Me. Kink. Snow.
Just to screw with Sean I set it in the old west.
;-)
***
Excerpt
Walker had learned a couple three things in the past six months.
One. When a sheriff in Texas said, "Ride on out of town," a sensible man rode.
Two. Them that cheated at cards carried sidearms and were a faster draw than he was.
Three. Mountains looked closer than they really were, whether or not the Comancheria were riding you hard.
Four. Winter started a lot sooner and harder than he'd been led to believe once a man reached those mountains.
Five. Every tree in these damnable woods looked the same.
Every one.
He'd been wandering for days, looking for a way through the mountains, looking for the pass that the map he'd bought in El Paso swore was right where he stood.
"You thinking about jumping my claim, boy, there's something you ought to know. I'm a damn good shot, I have the drop on you, and I'm a damn sight bigger'n you to boot." The deep, bear-like voice came from behind him, along with the sound of a rifle cocking.
Walker took a deep breath, hand sliding for his gunbelt, puffing himself up as big as he could as he turned. "I'm just passing through."
Six. Mountains looked to be a favorite place for lunatics and mad men.
"You pass anywhere in the next few days you'll freeze solid, friend. It's fixing to snow, and hard." The barrel of that same said rifle practically pressed his nose. "And the only reason you should pull that pistol is to hand it over."
"I ain't looking for trouble." He lost his pistol he'd starve. Walker stepped back, shaking his head. "No trouble at all."
"Good. Then you can keep it, but I swear, boy, the first time you look like you're going for it, I'll make you eat it."
The rifle lowered enough that he could see something besides the bore, and he got a good look at the man holding it. Tall, wide, dressed in dungarees and a rough shirt, along with a heavy coat and boots, the man had a wild red beard and a mass of curly, brownish red hair. Set deep in the brush were a pair of twinkling green eyes.
He nodded, kept moving backward. He should have kept his old nag instead of going for supplies. He should have listened to his Pa when the man called him a durned fool for leaving the fields.
"You're gonna land on your butt, son." Sure enough, his down at the heel boot clunked against a rock, nearly sending him sprawling. "What are you doing here?"
"Like I said. I was headed west. Hoping to get work. Maybe work some land." Maybe work the rails with the Chinamen. Something. Anything.
"Uh huh. Well, and like I said, you'll never make it to the next town before hard frost." God damn it if the first flake of snow didn't fall on his nose right then, breaking through the trees.
He bit back his sigh, his worry. "I knew I shoulda kept that nag..."
"So you should have. You'll not make it, son." The big man sighed. "Come on, then."
"Pardon?" Come on where? Surely if he walked it hard, he'd find a spot
"I can't leave you out here to freeze. You ain't even got a decent coat, nor boots. Come on, now. You're bound to be hungry." The rifle lowered all the way, the big man actually turning his back and heading off into the trees...the ones that all looked alike and would look even more so with snow on them.
***
Official type blurb
Horace is a loner, a mountain man with a claim to a tiny stream of gold and a lonely cabin in the woods. When he finds young Walker wandering lost in his mountains just before the snow flies, he decides he's found exactly the kind of companionship he craves.
Walker is young, naive, and totally unprepared for the kinds of amusements Horace has in store for him. Good thing he's willing to try new things, because Horace has a stern hand and a fine sense of adventure, showing Walker things he'd never dreamed of. But what will come when the spring thaw melts all that snow?
January 7, 2014
Authors I Love: Julia Talbot
Okay, so, I’m starting a new thing. I love reading and I love writers.
Yes, I know. Duh.
Still, how often do I get to gush? Just come right out and say, I love this writer.
Of course I would start with Julia.
Let me tell you, you can accuse me of favoritism, but I fell in love with her writing years before I fell in love with her.
Years.
One of my favorite titles ever is the President of the Thatcher Brothers Fan Club.
You see, I was out and about one day and I found this neat red blank book and it made me think of her, so I mailed it to Colorado for her.
That book lives in our house now — right here, in the office.
Handwritten in it are the beginnings of Jumping Into Things with Ross and Jed and Eli and Kevin.
Seriously. It’s here.
Of course, so is Julia. And the Blood Rose boys and our Absinthe boys and and and...
I’ll always know that I inspired the Thatchers and I’ll always be the first to hear their stories.
It’s okay, you can envy me. I don’t mind.
Much love, y’all.
BA
January 6, 2014
Deep Thoughts
You know, I’ve been in this business longer than I’d like to admit. I was writing m/m when you didn’t admit it to anyone or you risked losing your children, you risked losing your job. Hell, in places, you risked your life.
I was a lesbian in a time and a place where women didn’t fall in love with other women. I remember getting a brick thrown at me in high school because I’d leaned against my girlfriend (best friend? back then, you couldn’t imagine anything else) on the school bus. I did what we all did. I got married to a man. I stayed married for a long, long time.
I fell in love with one woman after another and had to hide it, I lied about it, even to myself, because that’s how it worked. Even the liberal people I knew were more tolerant of the idea of GLBT, than the reality.
Then I met Julia. I won’t lie — we tried to deny each other. We tried to be friends. We tried to be a triad.
We tried to say that it wasn’t real, but that was the lie we couldn’t keep telling ourselves.
It sucks, because people were hurt. Lots of them. Family members and friends that thought they knew me had to come to grips with a new me, a true me. Some people that I never imagined would pull away from me have disappeared from my life. Some folks that I knew wouldn’t understand have accepted me easily. I’ve discovered that the place that is the home of my heart is somewhere that I had to walk away from. Don’t get me wrong, I love my new home and I would follow J to the ends of the earth, but I’m a Texan and a part of me will forever be homeless now, not because I left, but because I don’t think I can return.
It’s been something else, being out of the closet, being honest about who I am, who I love. It’s not perfect: we don’t hold hands in public, we’re careful, especially if we’re visiting places that I love with my heart. When we go to rodeo events or country concerts, we don’t sit too close, we don’t touch. People that purport to love us sit in our house and tell us that we don’t deserve to get married.
It sucks. But, to lie for years, that sucks harder.
And to look at my lover, my girl, my J and deny that I love her? That my reason why, everyday, always.
*snorts*
Fuck that.
Also? I write m/m. And m/m/f. And f/f. And m/f. So there, ha.
Much love,
BA
January 5, 2014
Six Sentence Sunday -- m/m contemporary short story
“Do you take requests?”
He blinked up, that smooth as velvet voice familiar as breathing, as the one that came out of his iPod every day. Derek. Derek Laughton. God. How embarrassing.
***
From Monkey Suit (working title) for the Take It like a Man anthology.
;-)
Much love, y’all.
BA
January 4, 2014
What I Did This Week
Oh, the holidays were grand, but I’m SO glad to be back to work...
Active Writing:
Better as a Memory (m/m, cont) -- new Eat My Brain novel without deadline or publisher. I’m so in love with these characters it’s not fair.
Mick's Pups (m/m/m werewolves) -- OMG, the cute.
Short story for the Take It Like a Man anthology — Texan musicians that used to be lovers...
On hold:
m/m/f novel (co-write with Julia) -- fun, sexy menage. This one doesn't have a home or a deadline, so it keeps getting pushed back. I need to get this one open, or it's going to die.
In edits/rewrites:
Stripper kitties in rewrites.
Next week's plan?
finish Take it Like a Man
rewrites on stripper kitties
:D
Much love, y'all.
BA
January 3, 2014
What I'm Reading this Week
Hrm.
Let’s see. I’m reading Five Quarters of the Orange by Joanne Harris in the front room. The Spiral Dance by Starhawk in the bedroom. Mistresses of the Dark in the bathroom and The Relic by Preston and Child during reading time.
:D
How about y’all?
Much love,
BA
January 2, 2014
My New Year Goals
*grins*
Let’s see...
Write 1,000,000 words again.
Spend two days a week in the studio.
Save enough for ten days in Tuscany in 2015.
Get married to my girl.
Read 104 books.
Learn to make gnocchi.
I think that’s it. ;-)
How about y’all?
Much love,
BA
January 1, 2014
December 31, 2013
ADVENT CALENDAR -- Day Thirty One -- Will and Dean
They sat together on the sofa, TV on.
It was weird, not having Dick Clark with the ball deal.
"You ever want to go out there for New Year’s Eve, cowboy?" Will asked, knowing the answer without even asking.
"Me?" Dean’s eyes went wide. "Oh, Christ, Ace, me with all them folks? I’d lose it, sure as shit. I like our New Years. The black-eyed peas are soaking, the ham’s ready for the smoker. We got beer and munchies and we can two-step, iff’n you want." One gnarled hand grabbed his, squeezed. "You want to head out next year. I’d do it, if you needed."
"Pshaw. I was just asking. You want to play cards for a bit? We still got twenty minutes and I don’t know any of the new music."
"That’s because we’re getting old, Ace." Dean looked about as satisfied as a cowboy could be.
"Couldn’t happen to better cowboys."
Happy New Year to them.
And to you. :D
Dean and Will’s story is Latigo.
Much love, y’all. My wish is a blessed 2014 for all.
BA
December 30, 2013
ADVENT CALENDAR -- Day Thirty -- Cord and Dakota
"Get up, little bear."
Cord’s mate snorted and turned over, dragging the covers over him. Between losing his sight and hibernating, Kota wasn’t being the most jolly bear in history and, for the most part, Cord got it.
He did.
Hell, he was sleeping nineteen hours a day himself.
Still...
"Get up. Santa came days ago and you didn’t come to…" See? Oh, that would start a fuss. "…open your goodies."
"Sleeping."
He pulled the cover off the plate of tea and honey buns with raspberries, the scent guaranteed to wake up a recalcitrant bear, and Kota’s eyes opened, nose wrinkling. "Did you open yours? I got you something. Luc helped."
"I was waiting for you, love."
He would always wait.
"Come have a treat with me. I need you."
Somehow the words got through, this time and Dakota sat up, stretched.
Oh, Christmas could finally come.
Cord and Dakota appear in Cereus: Training
