Dev Bentham's Blog, page 7

Talking a step back

A couple of things happened this week to get me thinking about the preciousness of life. First, Wednesday was Yom Kippur, an opportunity to step away from the business of life and reflect on the important things. What it meant for me this year was that I went 25 hours without food, drink or election talk and I emerged the other side feeling renewed.

The other event was the passing of my good friend's husband. He'd been sick a long time and was in home hospice, so it wasn't unexpected. And not tragic. He had lived a long, full life and died peacefully, holding hands with the woman he loved. Really, other than the illness that proceeded it, that's the death I'd wish for any of us.

I'm so grateful for all the twists and turns in my life. I've certainly made more than my share of mistakes and things haven't always gone smoothly. But I've had great work, amazing friends and, although my relationship road has been a bit bumpy, I've been loved by some wonderful men and women (okay, there are a few I still struggle to forgive). To top it all off, I get to spend at least some of my days writing love stories - who could ask for a better life?

Not checking out yet, just counting my blessings. How about you? Anyone want to share their gratitude list with me today?

She's finally putting out a newsletter

It's taken years to get to this point, but the inaugural issue of Dev's Monthly News Flash comes out tomorrow! I'm excited, and a little nervous, about this new venture, but I'm feeling the new year, Rosh Hashanna, vibe so I'm inspired to finally jump in with a newsletter.

The News Flash will be just that - a little news and a little flash fiction. I'm promising to get one out every month for at least six months and I hope for much, much longer. 

It's a new day in Dev land. If you're interested in getting the News Flash, I'd love to have you sign up (check the sidebar here on my website or on my Facebook author page).

Wish me luck!

GRNW 2016

GRNW 2016 Author photo

The Gay Romance Northwest Conference was a little shorter this year and it took me a lot longer to get there, but I had a spectacular time and I can't wait for next year. I really love how inclusive and sex-positive this event is. I came away seriously inspired.

My journey had a bit of a rocky start when my flight out of Chicago was cancelled and I had to drive four hours to catch a plane out of Minneapolis. I arrived in Seattle at 2 in the morning. Fortunately, my incredibly patient friend stayed awake and picked me up. Even better yet, we got to sleep in the next morning. For the next few days I managed to ignore that my rerouting meant I'd need to be back at the airport for a 5 am flight on Monday. Ah, the joys of travel.

GRNW kicked off on Friday night with a suite of readings, first TransFics and then Love Bites. I was blown away by the readings, which were universally really good. I was thrilled that I got to join such a talented group and excited to read from Perfection, my short story which just came out in the One Pulse charity anthology from Dreamspinner (proceeds to help central Florida LGBT communities recover from the Pulse tragedy). Since the main character in Perfection is a bi guy, it was also a great plug for our Bi Erasure No More panel the next day.

On Saturday the great group of keynote speakers kicked off the conference by discussing their queer romance dreams. That was followed by some wonderful panels. I would have liked to be everywhere at once, but since that wasn't possible, I settled for grilling other people on the things I missed. I ended up with some tips on crafting a series, a great Trans fiction reading list and some spicy nuggets about writing sex (from the wonderfully named Queer swords and Odd Flowers panel).  

I had a blast at our bi panel. If you're interested, a recording of the panel is up on YouTube. Check us out.

The panel - from left to right: Morticia Knight, Amanda Jean, Charley descoteaux, me, e.j. russell and CJane Elliot

Things got racy with the readings at the after party. I hope they do it again next year so I can come prepared to get down and dirty, too. The whole thing was great fun.

Next year GRNW gets a new name, one more appropriate to the all-letter inclusiveness of the event. And it'll be in November. Fourteen months is a long wait, but it'll definitely be worth it. If you're in the Pacific Northwest come next November, be sure to stop by and say hi.

I also promised several people that my First Friday Flash Newsletter would start in October. So make sure you're signed up to get a bit of flash fiction from me every month. The sign up form is just below, as well as up there on the left of this page and on my FB author page. I'm excited to finally get this going!

Click here to sign up for Dev's First Friday Flash Fiction Newsletter!

There's no place like home

It's GRNW weekend and I'm loving being back here in Seattle. Although I live in the Midwest now, this feels like coming home. I spent my formative years in Idaho but I moved to Seattle right after college. Over the next decade or so I moved away, came back, moved away again and then returned. I've now lived away from Seattle for longer than I lived here, but the truth is that I never intended to be gone this long.

This is where I had my first real job. And my second. And my third - okay, I've never been a model of employment stability. Same with relationships, but that's another story. I wrote my first novel here, the really horrible one that'll never see the light of day. While I was here I had short stories and poems published in national magazines and I did movie and theater reviews for Seattle Gay News for a bit. It was a fertile place for me to grow into myself.

Come find me at GRNW, at the Seattle Library all afternoon on Saturday 9/24/16. I'll be the nostalgic looking one in the corner holding a cup of coffee and dreaming about rainy days.

Photo by Nitish Meena

What's up with Dev

I thought I'd talk a little about what I'm working on now because even though if everything goes perfectly it'll be maybe a year before it sees the light of day, I'm pretty excited about this new direction and I just can't keep my mouth shut.

For years, even though I write contemporary romance, I've been a closet mystery reader. I've always wanted to dip my toe into the mystery/romantic suspense world, but it's daunting.

I'm finally ready to give it a shot. I've just finished a draft of the first in a series of mysteries set in Tanzania. There are lots of tricky things for me to navigate - from just how the hell do you write one of these things, to the worry that as much as I intend to be culturally sensitive, in setting my stories half a world away, I'm bound to get a bunch of stuff wrong. But I really like my guys and the setting couldn't be more gorgeous and exotic. I'll be sending it off to a publisher soon. We'll see how it goes. If you never hear about this again, well, I'm still happy writing contemporary. In fact, my next project is a new contemporary romance novella series - but talking about that can wait.

In the meantime, here's a photo that inspired one of the scenes in my story. Isn't she gorgeous?

Excerpt Bread, Salt and Wine

The final story in the Tarnished Souls series, this was originally published by Loose Id in 2013. On 9/13  I'm re-releasing it with a shiny new, gorgeous cover by Jordan Castillo Price. It's available for pre-order at Amazon now.

I hope you enjoy this excerpt.

The band was too loud, the bride looked like a skeleton, and I had a raging headache. What a way to spend Friday night. I kept trying to remember why working for a prestigious LA restaurant had seemed like a better deal than my comfortable line job at a respectable place in New York. Especially since this particular gig had required supervising the creation of hundreds of puffy cheese minisoufflés, artichoke and bacon rolls, and duck liver wraps, all of which had to be carted from the L’Ouest kitchens to this golf-course-sized Beverley Hills backyard, where a chubby record company executive was marrying Madam Skeletor in lavish style.

It wasn’t the menu I would have suggested for this fat-conscious crowd, but until I could convince my boss to offer less pretentious and difficult-to-serve food, I’d be stuck with whatever he arranged. And unpretentious wasn’t of particular value to Stephan—that’s pronounced “Stefaaan”—Becker.

Any sane chef would design a separate menu for catering, featuring finger food, fresh fruits, and meals that could be plated with grace. I looked at the tiny bites of rich food starting to congeal in the warming trays and considered whether it was time to bring a new batch from the van.

A silver platter appeared at my left elbow, and a voice suggested, “I can start offering those to the guests so you can freshen up this station.”

I turned, and there he was. A few inches shorter than me, with spiky blond hair and a big smile, he wore the standard waiter’s uniform of black pants and a black button-down shirt. He managed to look like he’d just stepped off the runway during New York’s fashion week.
He held out the tray. “You’re Mr. Zajac, the new catering chef, right? I’m Kenny Marks, waiter extraordinaire.” He had an exuberant lilt to his voice. “And I’d love to help you get rid of that food.”

I could use a friend on staff. “Call me George. You seem to know your way around. Have you worked for L’Ouest long?”

He held the platter while I arranged the food. “I was with the company for the first event, a horrid little birthday party.” He shuddered dramatically. “The wife had decorated the whole house in black for the poor man’s fortieth. It was brutal.”

“This is my first job catering.” I nodded toward the crowd. “Any advice you have for me would be appreciated.”

Kenny looked out at the gathering. “You see that guy in the maroon bow tie? He’s the groom’s financial manager. Make sure he’s happy. That’s where your check and your tip are coming from. And over there’s the bride’s mother. Rumor is that back home in Dallas she hosts soirees on a regular basis. She and the daughter are supposed to be close. You might give the mama some personal attention—people like to meet the chef, makes them feel special. The new couple is bound to entertain, and I doubt our blushing bride cooks. She’ll ask mummy for advice on catering. Tips are always bigger from repeat customers.”

I stared at him. “How do you know all this?”

He hefted the now full platter to his shoulder. “I keep my eyes and ears open. Here comes Libby Spencer. She’s the most sought-after wedding planner in the city. Be very, very nice to her.”

With that he strolled off, walking with shoulders back and a slight sway to his hips, his pants pleasingly tight across a very nice ass. What would it be like to feel that comfortable with one’s sexuality? The question made me break into a sweat.

What do you do between projects?

Some people seem to be able to move seamlessly from one project to the next. While I can certainly do that if the projects in question are straightforward and short term, like doing the dishes or ordering swag (which I just did for GRNW later this month!). But I definitely need to take time between stories.

Right now the betas have my very first ever murder mystery (okay, okay, romantic suspense, because you KNOW there's a love story in there). And soon I'm hoping to start drafting the first in a new contemporary romance novella series. But in the meantime, I'm puttering around getting other things done. I managed to put the rerelease of Bread, Salt and Wine up on Amazon for pre-order (it comes out 9/13) and I've the bones of Nobody's Home are in place for the rerelease later this fall. Now I'm facing the most daunting chore of all - cleaning the office. I don't know how it gets so out of control, but it's outrageous. See?

 

Wish me luck. What do you do in the inbetween times?

And if you'll be in the Seattle area on September 24th, I hope to see you at GRNW!

Here I go...

A Shiny New Cover for Bread, Salt and Wine

I'm excited to announce the re-release of Bread, Salt and Wine on Sept 13th from Love is a Light Press. This is the final story in my Tarnished Souls Jewish Holiday Series. It came out from Loose Id in 2013. It's one of my very favorites, so I'm pleased it will be available again. It's available from Amazon now for pre-order.

And I'm thrilled to show you the new cover, by the amazingly talented Jordan Castillo Price. Isn't it gorgeous?

 

Some wounds never heal. George Zajac grew up in a religious family with a father who beat “the swish” out of him. At thirty-eight he's a troubled man. Escaping his miserable life as a banker in New York, he moves across the country to start again in Los Angeles as the catering chef for a prestigious French Restaurant. Kenny Marks, a writer who’s currently waiting tables, is everything George cannot be—flamboyant, proud and sexually confident. Enthralled by Kenny, and against his own better judgment, George agrees to a date. Sparks fly. The sex is amazing. But even after the two get close, George is crippled by humiliating sexual hang-ups. Still haunted by his childhood, he lingers in the closet and can’t commit to a relationship with Kenny. Love is the great healer, but is it enough? George’s emotional scars could drive Kenny away, and with him, George’s last chance at happiness.

Bread, Salt and Wine

Next month I'll be rereleasing Bread, Salt and Wine, the final story in my Tarnished Souls series. The point of view character is a chef and the story is structured around a series of catering events.

I thought you might enjoy this except from the first one.

"The band was too loud, the bride looked like a skeleton, and I had a raging headache. What a way to spend Friday night. I kept trying to remember why working for a prestigious LA restaurant had seemed like a better deal than my comfortable line job at a respectable place in New York. Especially since this particular gig had required supervising the creation of hundreds of puffy cheese minisoufflés, artichoke and bacon rolls, and duck liver wraps, all of which had to be carted from the L’Ouest kitchens to this golf-course-sized Beverley Hills backyard, where a chubby record company executive was marrying Madam Skeletor in lavish style.

It wasn’t the menu I would have suggested for this fat-conscious crowd, but until I could convince my boss to offer less pretentious and difficult-to-serve food, I’d be stuck with whatever he arranged. And unpretentious wasn’t of particular value to Stephan—that’s pronounced “Stefaaan”—Becker.

Any sane chef would design a separate menu for catering, featuring finger food, fresh fruits, and meals that could be plated with grace. I looked at the tiny bites of rich food starting to congeal in the warming trays and considered whether it was time to bring a new batch from the van.

A silver platter appeared at my left elbow, and a voice suggested, “I can start offering those to the guests so you can freshen up this station.”

I turned, and there he was. A few inches shorter than me, with spiky blond hair and a big smile, he wore the standard waiter’s uniform of black pants and a black button-down shirt. He managed to look like he’d just stepped off the runway during New York’s fashion week.
He held out the tray. “You’re Mr. Zajac, the new catering chef, right? I’m Kenny Marks, waiter extraordinaire.” He had an exuberant lilt to his voice. “And I’d love to help you get rid of that food.”

I could use a friend on staff. “Call me George. You seem to know your way around. Have you worked for L’Ouest long?”

He held the platter while I arranged the food. “I was with the company for the first event, a horrid little birthday party.” He shuddered dramatically. “The wife had decorated the whole house in black for the poor man’s fortieth. It was brutal.”

“This is my first job catering.” I nodded toward the crowd. “Any advice you have for me would be appreciated.”

Kenny looked out at the gathering. “You see that guy in the maroon bow tie? He’s the groom’s financial manager. Make sure he’s happy. That’s where your check and your tip are coming from. And over there’s the bride’s mother. Rumor is that back home in Dallas she hosts soirees on a regular basis. She and the daughter are supposed to be close. You might give the mama some personal attention—people like to meet the chef, makes them feel special. The new couple is bound to entertain, and I doubt our blushing bride cooks. She’ll ask mummy for advice on catering. Tips are always bigger from repeat customers.”

I stared at him. “How do you know all this?”

He hefted the now full platter to his shoulder. “I keep my eyes and ears open. Here comes Libby Spencer. She’s the most sought-after wedding planner in the city. Be very, very nice to her.”

With that he strolled off, walking with shoulders back and a slight sway to his hips, his pants pleasingly tight across a very nice ass. What would it be like to feel that comfortable with one’s sexuality? The question made me break into a sweat."

 

Baby, it's hot out there

The summer goes by so quickly up here in the frozen north. We have maybe six weeks to play in, after that it gets cold again and the swimming's done. Hope you're all enjoying your summer (or winter), wherever you are.