Lex Chase's Blog, page 17

Miserable Stories and Why You Should Tell Them

Just recently, I’ve rediscovered anime. I’ve fallen out of it for years, much of it the same ol’ same ol’. But now, the latest exports from Japan have really stepped up in telling very sophisticated and absolutely miserable sob fests.

One of my favorites is Death Parade. The title of the show is absurd. The opening credits are way absurd. But the series tells these delicate stories of realizing who we are after we die.

We learn of heartbreak and unrequited love, secrets and lies kept to protect our loved ones, and even the mindlessness of tripping on a soap bar and hitting our head on the tub.

This show will have you laughing one moment and then ugly crying the next. You’ll need to watch with a new box of Kleenex every episode.

The reason you need to subject yourself to such torment is to convey and elicit empathy in your stories.

You say “Lex! I already do that!”

You can do better.

I can do better.

Stop going for the cheap tearjerker moments. Don’t make your characters cry on command with no context. If you’re not miserable, readers will know and yawn and feel nothing.

Some writers say, “Oh! I’m so weird that my books make me cry! LOL!”

That’s not weird. That’s doing it right. That’s the secret sauce.

I’ve killed off a few characters between my books. And I don’t do it to dick with my readers. I don’t want to throw your heart in a blender and press frappe for fun. I want readers to be able to come to me and say “When X died I sobbed like a BABY!” and I’ll say “I KNOW ME TOO OMG!” I want us to have that empathetic relationship.

Why else would I put myself through the pain and misery of killing off a character I so lovingly created? Because in those final moments, we learn who they really are. As my brother told me, “When your number’s up, the only person that matters is you.”

If you’re not feeling joy, sadness, anger, fear, or disgust with your characters, if you’re not emotionally invested, readers won’t be either.

If storytelling is easy as punching in and punching out of a time clock, you’re not doing it right.

[Monday Spark] “See How He Sparkles” by Lex Chase

Hello Internet! How about this weekend, yeah? Same-sex marriage is now law of the land here in the US of A! Or as we can all call it now: marriage. I actually had to edit a line about marriage in one of my upcoming releases that mentioned the legal issue behind it. Well. Uh. Didn’t see that coming! Bless you progress! ‘MURICA!

So with the glitterbombs of happiness exploding all over the Internet, I’m bringing you something happy and glittery too. What happens when Lex Chase takes all of her boys from her various series, shoves them in a room together, and makes them kindergartners?

Hijinks.

The Darkmore Saga’s Sevon and Jack make their entrance into the Happy Acres universe along with Ahimsa and St. John of 10-9. What happens when little Sevon just now learning about gender expression meets Ahimsa who is a proud gender-fluid six year-old? Can you say: GLITTER!

Please enjoy!

See How He Sparkles: A Happy Acres Short
by Lex Chase

Genre: Contemporary TOTES ADORBS!

“Are you sure it’s no trouble?” Sevon’s daddy said to Ahimsa’s mommy.

Sevon plucked at the hem of his Dodgers jersey as he rested his small back against his daddy’s legs. He protected him from the cold as they stood on the front stoop of Ahimsa’s pretty house. Sevon liked Ahimsa’s pretty house. There were window boxes with colorful flowers in them and there were bushes blooming with azel—aza—aselleeyas? Pink flowers.

Sevon’s daddy was a trucker. But he didn’t drive Tonka trucks. He drove a real truck. Sevon was in it once. There was even a microwave in it! It was like that show on that boring channel where men like his daddy drove trucks over snow. Daddy liked that show. He made sure Sevon would like it too because one day Sevon would be an Eye-Arr-Tee like the men in the show. Sevon didn’t know what an Eye-Arr-Tee was but he was sure it meant something about trucks and snow and making bleeps with your mouth a lot.

Sevon sucked on his finger while he watched his daddy try to explain he’s an Eye-Arr-Tee and would be gone a long time. Ahimsa’s mommy smiled. She said what Sevon’s daddy does for a living is ‘Fassy-nay-ting’ and she smiled again. Sevon thought Ahimsa’s mommy must be a queen with such a white smile. If she was a queen then that meant the house was a castle. If the house was a castle than Ahimsa was a princess! Wow! Sevon knew a really real princess!

“His mom and I are kinda havin’ issues…” Sevon’s daddy said. “I have to get up to Yellowknife and his mom won’t be back in town until tomorrow evening… You sure you can take him? I know my boy can be a handful…”

Ahimsa’s mommy bent down to inspect Sevon. She smiled again and Sevon made a squeal of a giggle at the attention.

“This little thing?” she said sweetly. “He’s no bigger than a minute. I’m sure Ahimsa would love another playmate.” She nodded to his daddy, “I’ve got daycare duty for Babbette’s boy tonight too. You know. John. Now there’s a handful.”

Sevon’s daddy made a funny face. “Didn’t he try to light the class hamster on fire?”

“That would be the little sociopath in question,” Ahimsa’s mommy muttered under her breath then straightened. “Ahimsa invited Jack over earlier. His parents are busy with some kind of tribal function tonight.”

Sevon’s daddy looked confused. “They’re Native American?”

Sevon finally spoke up from the vicinity of his daddy’s knees, “Jack is Japanese, Daddy.”

“Jack is not a Japanese name, sport,” Sevon’s daddy corrected flatly and then turned his attention to Ahimsa’s mommy, “Well it’s good you’ve got the boys here. Sevon really needs to be around boys…I…” He hesitated, visually disturbed. “I caught him in his mom’s makeup a couple weeks ago…”

Ahimsa’s mommy said nothing at first and Sevon couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. She slowly smiled. But it was different. Like the pink and purple scary kitty in the scary cartoon where a little girl ate things and got bigger and smaller.

“Boys will be boys…” Ahimsa’s mommy said as if it meant something else. “Boys will be boys…” She shot out her hand to Sevon. “Come along pumpkin! Your daddy has to get on the road!”

Sevon nodded slowly and hooked his tiny fingers around her hand. He waved to his daddy as he stepped inside the house. “Buh-bye, Daddy, have fun on the Eye-Arr-Tee!”

Sevon watched his daddy get into his pickup truck and put his head in his hands. His daddy looked tired. He hoped his daddy would get some good sleep on the Eye-Arr-Tee.

“Right this way, sweetie…” Ahimsa’s mommy said as they stepped further into the pretty castle.

Sevon was positive he was in a castle because only a castle had curly stairs! Like in Sevon’s picture books! The stairs went around and around up to Rah-poon-zulz tower!

“Boys! Sevon’s here!” Ahimsa’s mommy called into the house.

Jack was the first to come bounding down the curly stairs, a happy bouncing ball of boy. “Sevi!” Jack crowed. “Sevi’s here! Sevi’s here!” He tackled Sevon in a hug and mashing his cheek against Sevon’s in greeting.

Sevon giggled and flailed at the tickles of Jack’s attentions. “You smell like chocolate milk.”

Jack tugged on Sevon’s Dodgers jersey in the direction of the curly stairs. “Come on. John ‘n Ahimsa are playing Little Big Planet. You can play too.”

Sevon looked questioningly to Ahimsa’s mommy. “Is it okay?”

Ahimsa’s mommy laughed. “Go on pumpkin. Ahimsa can show you how to play.”

“O-okay…” Sevon mumbled shyly and waddled up the curly stairs with Jack taking the lead.

Upon entering Ahimsa’s room Sevon thought he died and went to Princess Trixie’s Dream Castle.

The walls were pink. And purple. And there were unicorns. And flowers. And butterflies. There was even a princess canopy on the bed. A row of princess crowns on a shelf. Ahimsa was a real princess!

“Look out for the meanie,” John shouted while mashing buttons on the large Playstation controller.

Ahimsa and John huddled around a small Hello Kitty TV. They wiggled and squirmed as if trying to get their little men to move on the TV. Jack took a seat on the foot of the bed and kicked his feet, making himself bounce.

Ahimsa mashed a button and his little princess bounced on the monster’s head exploding in a puff of flame. “Got it,” he chirped as the little princess waddled in her skirts across the screen. “Get the costume.” He then acknowledged Sevon, “Jump in. It’s fun.” He turned back to the game, his puffy pigtails swishing.

Sevon nodded and sat carefully between the two boys. He tested the weight of the eleven button controller in his tiny hands and trying to figure out how to hold it. Sevon figured resting it on his lap was the best bet and mashing the buttons with his fingers.

Like a kee-boord that his mommy uses to talk to Mr. Bruce. Mr. Bruce is very nice. He has lots of money. He bought Sevon a baseball once with writing on it. Sevon didn’t want to be rude and tell Mr. Bruce he hates baseball.

Realization dawned on Sevon. “I don’t know how to play this game,” he said shyly.

John shot a look to Ahimsa and nodded once. “We can back out of the level and let him make a sackboy.”

Sevon looked between the two in confusion. “Sack…Boy?”

Ahimsa nodded and tapped a series of buttons. “Watch me,” he said with a smile.

Sevon listened intently as Ahimsa guided him through the world of tiny burlap people, how to make them move, how to make them have funny expressions, and how to dress them up. Like Trixie dolls. Sevon hesitantly navigated the screen at all the costume choices.

“Can I…make mine a princess?” Sevon mumbled while blushing. “Daddy won’t let me have princesses.”

Ahimsa dropped his controller like it was a scorching hot rock and stumbled back in shock. His My Little Pony slippers jingled with their internal bells.

“No princesses?” Ahimsa clutched his chest like he couldn’t breathe. “There may be no such thing as Ponyland!”

Jack tilted his head at John to ask him a question and John slapped his forehead in answer.

“How do they always find you?” John asked the grownup question.

“John,” Ahimsa snapped. “Be nice.”

“Says the boy in Hello Kitty underpants.” John pointed and laughed.

“What’s wrong with Hello Kitty underpants?” Ahimsa growled and Sevon withered.

“I like Ahimsa’s underpants,” Jack chirped while bouncing on the bed. “Hello Kitty is happy to see me.”

Sevon blinked widely as he, John and Ahimsa gaped at Jack for clarification.

Jack flopped backwards onto the bed and puffed a big sigh. “Sevi’s daddy is mean. He takes Sevi an’ me to booooooring baseball games.” He pointed his index fingers to the ceiling and declared. “He wants Sevi to be a catcher!”

“Baseball’s lame.” John agreed flatly.

Ahimsa paused and got a strange dreamy look in his eye.

“Do you wanna be a real princess, Sevon?” Ahimsa asked sweetly already toddling to his dress-up closet.

Sevon clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. Ahimsa was going to let him wear one of his princess dresses. A princess letting him wear a princess dress! Sevon was truly blessed.

Ahimsa then produced the prettiest blue dress Sevon had ever seen. It sparkled! With real glitter! Not the kind that Jack tries to eat in art class! Like really expensive glitter!

Ahimsa offered the dress to Sevon. “Here. You’ll be Cinderella and I’ll be Sleeping Beauty.”

Sevon crushed the fine fabric to him. “And someone will wake you with a kiss?” he asked with a dreamy sigh.

“I like to kiss,” Jack chirped from the bed.

They all gaped at him.

“Ahimsa’s my boyfriend,” John sternly proclaimed.

“Wooooooow.” Sevon said, awestruck. “Really?”

Ahimsa nodded happily. “I’m going to be John’s bride one day.”

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaooooow!” Sevon screeched. “You’ll be a pretty bride!”

Ahimsa giggled and shooed John and Jack to the door. “Now you need to get going while I work my magic.” He dramatically put a hand to his chest. “I never reveal my secrets.”

John rolled his eyes and tugged on Jack’s hand. “C’mon Jacko. Let’s get juice boxes in the kitchen. I think the cupcakes are done too.”

“Cupcakes!” Jack squealed and dashed down the stairs dragging John behind him.

 

In the time, it took Jack to inhale three juice boxes and four cupcakes to get appropriately sugar buzzed, Princesses Ahimsa and Sevon greeted their subjects.

Jack and John cheered from the base of the steps as Ahimsa slipped down the curly stairs in his pink sparkly gown and My Little Pony slippers. His gold crown bobbed on his pigtails but he caught it quickly. Sevon followed, taking a deep breath and looking down over the balcony. Jack and John clapped and cheered even louder!

“Come on Cinderella!” Ahimsa called from the base of the steps.

Sevon nodded. With socked feet, he carefully waddled down the curly stairs in the big poofy blue skirt. His princess hat was securely fastened with the elastic under his chin. Once Sevon reached the base of the steps, Jack immediately got on bended knee. Ahimsa squealed his delight.

“He’s going to ask to marry you!” Ahimsa bounced on his toes.

Sevon wordlessly watched Jack, then John, then Ahimsa, and then back to Jack. He blushed deeply and offered his gloved fingers.

Jack took the hand and turned the palm up. “Can I give you a kiss?”

Ahimsa gasped. “Do it! Do it!”

Sevon nodded quickly, his princess hat wobbling on his head.

Jack placed a pink cupcake on Sevon’s tiny palm. “A kiss,” he said. “I like kisses.”

Sevon cradled the confection delicately. “I like kisses from you, Jack.”

“Having a princess party without me?” Ahimsa’s mommy asked as she walked in from the living room. She smiled to Ahimsa with an expression Sevon didn’t understand.

“Don’t tell my daddy!” Sevon squealed in horror. “He move me to Ally-Ask-Kuh and away from pretty dresses and princesses and castles and my friends!” Sevon collapsed onto his fanny and cried. “Don’t tell my daddy. Don’t tell! Please!”

Ahimsa’s mommy cooed and set Sevon back on his feet. “Now, now pumpkin you’re going to ruin your pretty dress…”

Sevon wiped his nose on the back of his hand and was confused. Why was Ahimsa’s mommy being nice? She was a queen. All queens are nice. Except the one in the scary cartoon. That one was mean, but Ahimsa’s mommy was nice.

“Y-y-you’re not going to tell my daddy?” Sevon whimpered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. You should be allowed to express yourself how you please I always say. If Ahimsa wants to wear dresses and have pink cupcakes I let him. He’s strong enough to take care of himself,” Ahimsa’s mommy said with a bright smile.

Sevon sighed in relief. “You’re a really nice queen.”

Ahimsa’s mommy laughed. “And you’re a really pretty princess.” She turned to the other three boys and put her hands on her hips. “Now who wants popcorn and a movie?”

 

Copyright © 2015 Lex Chase. All Rights Reserved.

[Flash Fiction Friday] Kim Fielding presents Away From It All

Hello Internet! Kim Fielding joins me for Flash Fiction Friday. In her piece we meed Brad and Tony, a couple that have settled into a dull routine and have decided take a little vacation. But in this world full of modern conveniences, hijinks ensue when two city boys go off the grid.

Away From It All
by Kim Fielding

“Hello? Hello? I think the phone just went dead…” In the glow of a dying flashlight, Brad pushed the buttons several times before sighing and setting the handset in the cradle.

Tony glared at him. The phone was ancient, a yellow plastic touchtone model that was the spitting image of the one his grandmother had when Tony was really little. But it probably wasn’t the phone itself that was at fault; the storm had likely knocked down the lines. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal except the power was out too, and he and Brad were stuck in a cabin in the one of the few remaining spots on the planet where you couldn’t get cell service.

“Your vacation plans suck ass,” Tony said. After an additional narrowing of his eyes, he stomped out of the tiny, dimly lit kitchen into the slightly larger but much darker living room. He intended to throw himself dramatically onto the couch with the moose-and-bear-print fabric, but the effect was ruined when he tripped over the obscured coffee table and fell onto the couch instead. He crossed his arms and scowled. He’d lobbied for a week in San Francisco. That’s what they usually did when they got some time off. They could have gone clubbing, done some shopping, and eaten their way through some amazing restaurants. But Brad had insisted on getting away from it all. Well, that had worked out just great. They were now away from pretty much any post-nineteenth-century technology.

And… fuck. Did the plumbing work if the power went out?

Tony was too angry to even ask. He listened as Brad rifled noisily through kitchen drawers and then blinked when Brad entered the room carrying a glowing candle on  plate. “I found some decent flashlights too,” Brad said. “But this is nicer, don’t you think?” He set the dish on the coffee table and sat close enough to Tony that their legs pressed together. Brad smelled good. Like one of those tree-shaped air fresheners, only with slightly tomatoey undertones because they’d had spaghetti for dinner.

“I am not good at roughing it,” said Tony. They’d been together for fifteen years. Brad should have known that.

“It’s just for tonight. They’ll probably have the power restored by morning. If not, we can get in the car and I’ll drive us to a hotel, okay? One with a spa.”

Brad was being so calm and conciliatory, and he smelled so nice, and his leg was warm against Tony’s. All of Tony’s anger and petulance drained away. “Okay. Sorry I’m acting like a spoiled brat.”

Brad scooched closer and nuzzled his ear. “You’re not. I get it. You’ve been stressed lately, and the last thing you needed was more hassles. We should have gone to the city. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I wanted to try something new.”

Something new. They’d begun dating a decade and a half ago and moved in together not much later. They’d married as soon as it was legal. And they’d ended up settled in a comfortable, loving, familiar rut. Which was fine. They were happy. But maybe Brad was right. Maybe it was time to shake things up just a little.

On that thought, Tony pounced. He took Brad by surprise, knocking him sideways onto the couch and landing on top of him. Brad had exactly enough time for a surprised squeak before Tony captured his mouth in a passionate kiss.

You had to give Brad credit. He might not have expected this move, but he was on board quickly enough. Without breaking the kiss he pawed at Tony’s clothing and his own, clearly trying to maximize the skin-on-skin contact.

Tony thought briefly about dragging his husband upstairs to the sleeping loft, where a queen-sized bed awaited them—the sheets mercifully lacking either moose or bear insignia. But that sounded like too much effort, too much time not touching each other. And anyway, the flickering candlelight was romantic. Plus they always had sex in bed; tonight was the time for something new.

“I love you,” Tony whispered into the shell of Brad’s ear, making Brad shiver beneath him. “I really love you.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me, mister.”

“I’d follow you anywhere. Even somewhere without electricity or phone.”

Brad squeezed Tony’s ass. “So you admit that the cabin wasn’t such a terrible idea?”

“I admit that… it could have been a lot worse,” Tony said with a sexy chuckle.

And that was when the falling tree crashed through the roof of the loft.

K. Lynn talks gender over a Coffee Date

Please welcome K. Lynn to my blog today. She brings us a topic near and dear to my heart with challenging gender roles in her novella Coffee Date.

This year, a number of my releases are focusing on transgender characters, including Coffee Date. I have always been fascinated by both the perception of gender and the push of society to place people into specific gender roles. What does it mean to be a man or a woman? And what if you don’t fit neatly into either role? Or if society has assigned you as one gender when you actually don’t perceive yourself to be that gender? For my novella, Coffee Date, Alice is dealing with how society perceives her versus how she perceives herself.

Alice is finally happy with her body and her life—except for the part where revealing she’s trans winds up leaving her hurt and abandoned over and over again. She’s decided she’s done making herself miserable by looking for love.

Love finds her anyway, in the form of Hank, the new guy at her local coffee shop. He’s sweet, friendly, charming… and will probably turn out like all the rest. Determined not to shatter the fantasy and lose him before she has to, Alice holds fast to her secrets.

But if the truth doesn’t ruin everything, the lies will, and it seems no matter which choice she makes Alice is set for just one more heartache.

I knew that I wanted to explore Alice’s feelings in this novella, and that she would have built up a wall to protect herself from the hurt she’d experienced over the years since she began her transition. What I didn’t know, and what she soon showed me through revealing her story, was how deep that hurt ran and how much damage it had caused. Alice is constantly trying to match up to what she thinks she should be, what society has taught her she should be, while making herself miserable because she hasn’t reached that constructed reality. In the end, what she had to learn and what we all have to learn, is that you don’t have to fit into anyone’s constructed categories. Be yourself, whoever that might be.

About The Book: Coffee Date

Coffee Date is a 12,000 word contemporary transgender novella that explores Alice’s struggle to find acceptance, and possibly love, in a world that has not been kind to her on either front.

Read an excerpt at Less Than Three Press.

Coffee Date officially releases on July 1, but you can pre-order it now at this link!

About The Author: K. Lynn

Lynn has been an avid reader and writer since childhood. While in college, K. Lynn increased her involvement in LGBT issues and writing within the LGBT fiction genre. She has become a long-time fan of the authors that seek to explore the commonality that exists within all sexualities and genders. Most of K. Lynn’s work features LGBT characters, many of whom are in established relationships and show how love perseveres through every trial and tribulation that life holds. She also has a particular interest in seeing transgender characters gain a larger foothold within the LGBT fiction genre, hoping that the market for these works expand in the future. Contact K. Lynn at writerklynn@gmail.com or follow her on Twitter @WriterKLynn

[Monday Spark] All This Past by Lex Chase

Hello Internet! Start your week off right with Monday Spark! Today’s flash fiction I might run with at a later date. Seems like the start to something doesn’t it? I just didn’t know where to end it. Seems to show promise!

Meet Ennis, a tortured man determined to find the truth behind his missing lover.

All This Past
by Lex Chase

Genre: Sci-Fi

Prompt: Years after his lover had gone missing, a man sets out to find the truth.

The New Mexico heat sizzled on the pavement. The rain had been a welcomed blessing, and Ennis always found the warm waters as an omen of healing. His wounds were deep and in places no stitches could ever reach. Ennis laughed to himself, even he was starting to buy into the metaphysical bullshit.

He clutched the thick manila folder to his chest. It had been overstuffed with photographs, notes scrawled on napkins with leads that never panned out, drunken journal entries on everything from Post-It notes to torn envelopes asking for signs or forgiveness. The tattered folder also held memories of happier times, Polaroids of San Diego Pride, silly Garfield strips with the note remind you of someone? A lock of red hair that still had the orange dream bar scent of Johnson and Johnson baby conditioner. He had insisted it was perfect for keeping his hair from turning into a horse tail while surfing.

The overstuffed manila folder bore brushes of true love. Faith in destiny. And every last would’a, could’a, should’a that Ennis never manned up to take advantage of the opportunity.

He never apologized. And spackled his heart over with layers of concrete. He had let himself become that guy that was only made of an impenetrable surface. When someone tried to scrape it off, they’d only find more surface underneath.

He could go anywhere, do anything, run from the memories and run back to them with a different interpretation. He’d put a different spin on it, because no one wanted to read about the never-ending search for a gay man’s lost love who vanished into thin air.

No, people would rather devour the embarrassing month-long coverage of a jetliner out of Malaysia disappearing into the great blue yonder. Or demand a murder suspect be burned at the stake over social media.

But as Ennis looked out into the limitless starry skies, he knew now anything could happen.

He never thought he’d end up here in Tezcatlipoca, New Mexico. It was a place that not even Google Maps had recorded, and boasted all of two stoplights. It was a place that was unimpressive as well as unexpected.

Tez was a place that one could see every star in the sky and the galaxies beyond. The moon was so close on the horizon Ennis could reach out and touch it.

Ennis kissed the manila folder, remembering the happiness within. When times were their darkest, here in Tez, Ennis learned even every night must end. A shooting star shot overhead. Brilliant and then burning out into nothing. Ennis knitted his brows. Even stars fell from grace.

He took a steadying breath, letting the humid breeze wash over him, letting him know it was time to let go.

The truth was out there, and in time, Ennis would believe he found it.

He ripped the manila folder open and let the photographs of lost love, missing person flyers, unsent letters, and tearful confessions fly on into the endless stars. The papers fluttered like butterflies, finally free from their cocoons.

Ennis fished his smartphone from his pocket and grunted at the cracked screen. With a careful swipe of the finger, he unlocked it and read the last text message from his editor.

 

Are you happy?

 

Ennis pressed his lips together, staring at Spitz’s message. It was the last message Spitz would ever send, and he would never know the answer. Even Ennis wasn’t sure of the answer.

He turned and looked back over the tiny town of Tez as the half-functioning streetlights flickered on, and then off again. They were like beacons, blinking to the heavens above. Ennis adjusted his glasses on his nose and tested the weight of his phone.

He spun on his heel back to the city limits sign and shucked it into the darkness.

Was he happy? Ennis may never know, but he was willing to take a leap of faith.

All he knew all of this was going to make a damned fine memoir. He reached into his back pocket and whipped out his notepad followed by a stolen pen from Hertz Rental Cars. As he scribbled in his stuttering chicken scratch he spoke the words out loud.

“It was a dark and stormy night, and I hope you choke on that cliché because it all started with a squirrel.”

Copyright © 2015 Lex Chase. All Rights Reserved.

What’s Up With This Week!

You say to me, “Lex! Where the frig is the Flash Fiction Friday piece this week?”

And I say, “This week’s guests found themselves indisposed. But tune in for next week!”

But! There’s been some awesome going down in Land of the Lex.

First, the third Thursday of every month I have a regular column over on the Dreamspinner Press Blog. The first post you can find here, and the second went live yesterday which you can see here. There’s goodies and giveaways to be had. Come one, come all!

If you missed it, I’m also participating in Joyfully Jay’s Beach Read Bonanza. Sponsored by Dreamspinner Press, Jay is hosting authors to dish on dream beaches. Joined by a dear friend and cosplayer, Mae Wynn Talley as Dude Princess Taylor Hatfield, we take you on a tour of the sugar white sands of Pensacola Beach. Read all about it here. Don’t forget about the awesome giveaway. Did someone say a Kindle?

But wait! There’s more!

Did you see the sneak peeks of my upcoming projects? Like the anticipated Bayou Fairy Tale? Why don’t you check out the lengthy teaser of Chapter One here? Or how about the entirety of Chapter Four here?

And have you heard about the madness Bru Baker and I are cooking up with Some Assembly Required? In a sentence it’s the purgatory IKEA meet-cute you never knew you needed until now. Get a tasty snippet here.

What else is there to be excited about? Why don’t you hop on the bandwagon of trying to ? There’s more giveaway awesome in it for you!

Excerpts! Blogs! Giveaways!
Let’s dance!

 

The Weight of Reality, The Reach for the Stars

If you had read my post The Human Garbage Dump where I got real on dealing with my weight, well here’s the sequel.

I have always struggled with my weight. Who hasn’t? Everyone has at some point.

Even Chris Pratt.

In full transparency, Mr. Pratt has firmly become my new obsession besides the obvious reason. Because, y’know.

 

No, Lex. I have no idea what you mean…

 

But he’s given a real and very public face to struggling with weight.

As you know, I’ve been doing Weight Watchers for years. And I do mean years. I’ve gained. I’ve lost. I’ve gotten on the wagon, but the wagon became a treadmill going nowhere.

Pratt was nominated of the Sexiest Men Alive in 2014, yet his own self-image of the “heavy funny guy” remains.

Since Guardians of the Galaxy and Jurassic World, he’s been hounded by repeated questions about his weight. He’s given a frank discussion about dealing with a host of health issues from depression, poor self-image, fatigue, and hiding in a “costume” of his weight.

Somehow, this clicked for me. A complete breath of fresh air. Not only has the tables been turned about women being hounded about questions on staying slim and how they fit into their costumes (Sorry ScarJo!) The table has been flipped and set on fire because Pratt, a guy, is sharing his story down to the tragic details.

I’ve always frankly discussed my weight. I’ve also encouraged others, shared tips, cooked up storm with creating recipes, ran a weight loss blog about my journey. It all felt so hollow. It all felt like screaming into the wind. I don’t know if I wanted a pat on the back, or to inspire someone else, but the truth is I absolutely did. We all crave validation. And nothing made me crave validation more than that.

And when it didn’t come… I ate.

But my issues with my emotions and food have been a lifelong battle.

I’ve coped with a lot of tragic happenings in my life with food. My response to dealing with surviving domestic violence is to hide it in a “costume” as it were of fat. If I was funny and charismatic, I wouldn’t be considered love interest material. I could cover my poor body image with snark.

 

You can hide anything with a laugh and a smile.

 

Chris Pratt actually turned down the role of Star-Lord in Guardians of the Galaxy at first because he didn’t think he was good enough. And he was still heavy, but he had Peter Quill’s charm and charisma.

In late May, I went to my doctor because all of a sudden in the course of six hours my body had swelled so bad all of a sudden my shoes didn’t fit. I couldn’t even get my foot in them.

 

Guinness World Record of Cankles.

 

I was pretty terrified. And then I got on the scale at the doctor and was smacked with the harsh reality I had gained back every last pound I had lost since 2013. Not only every single one, but more.

My doctor, who’s usually a very kind and upbeat person, put on her disappointed mom hat, and I was given yet another medication and told effective immediately, to sit and keep my feet up at all times, and never touch sodium ever again. She was pissed. This was a woman at the end of her rope. And a woman I didn’t want to disappoint.

Now I’ve followed her orders and I feel awesome and my check-up is this Thursday. But I’m freaking out. I’ve lost 12 pounds, which is a yay but now I’m on the cusp of worrying if I’m doing things right, and if I’m good enough.

Or if I’m always going to be the “fat funny person.”

Fuck being the “fat funny person.”

Fuck wearing a “costume.”

Fuck being afraid.

I’m gunna be Star-Lord.

Hooked on a feelin~

Some Assembly Required Sneak Peek!

Hello Internet! In case you haven’t heard, I’m co-writing a book with the fabulous and equally quirky Bru Baker called Some Assembly Required. In a sentence, it’s the IKEA purgatory meet-cute you didn’t know you needed in your life until now.

You heard me.

So meet Patrick, IKEA employee of the decade, and the new hire Benji. IKEA is a place that people are dying to get in.

Please enjoy!

Some Assembly Required
by Bru Baker and Lex Chase

 

It was so difficult to have a staring contest when only one participant is aware of the contest.

Patrick sat in the café at his favorite table with the old man. He had no idea how long the guy had been coming. But he was the one that always brought in the New York Times, Patrick’s only lifeline at learning about the outside world. He also brought the crossword books. The old man left them behind, and Patrick had collected them in his greed for entertainment. But as the days went by, Patrick grew unsure if they truly were forgotten, or were they an offering?

The old man had a name. Henry. Patrick once caught it on his credit card when he bought his usual plate of meatballs with extra lingonberry jam.

Patrick narrowed his eyes, his nose millimeters from Henry’s, but Henry seemed lost in some thought or another.

Two could play this game.

Patrick reached out and then snapped his fingers against Henry’s ear.

Nothing.

“Karin told me I’d find you here,” Benji said as he entered the café.

Trying to play damage control for being caught, Patrick shoved his chair back from Henry’s table and cast a beaming smile at Benji.

“Hey, cupcake,” he drawled as he gave Benji a once over. The hipster skinny jeans definitely did fit well. Really well.

“We’ve moved on to cupcake?”

“Well, you do have a sweet, creamy center,” Patrick said without a blink.

Benji coughed into his fist and averted his gaze.

“You should get that checked out,” Patrick said as he stood.

Henry sipped his tea, still blissfully unaware.

“Know of any doctors in IKEA?” Benji asked, rising to the challenge.

Patrick thumbed his chin. “Well, funny you should ask…”

“Him?” Benji asked and nodded to Henry.

Patrick’s gut clenched as Henry pulled out the Times and ran his fingers over the front page. “Him?” Patrick tried to keep his smile intact as Benji denied him his desperate moment for news. “Naw. He’s a…” Patrick snapped his fingers next to Henry’s ear only to be rewarded with no response. “Pet project.”

Benji narrowed his eyes. The skepticism was strong with this one. “Then who?”

“Me.” Patrick counted the seconds until Benji’s gaping reaction.

“You.” Benji didn’t take the bait. Dammit.

Patrick stretched with a long arch of the back. “Well…If you want to get specific, not medically. Particle physics. You know—” He flicked his fingers dismissively. “—Super boring stuff of two bodies colliding together creating a passionate explosion.”

Benji coughed and his face flushed. “Passionate?”

Patrick feigned innocence. “Do you find my vocabulary intimidating? I could use alternatives. How about concupiscent?”

“Wha—?”

“Or would you prefer something that rolls off the tongue? How about lascivious?”

“Do you ever stop?”

“But my dear, Benji, we were just reaching the climax of our verbal copulation.”

“Oh god!”

Patrick licked his finger and hissed, mimicking a sizzle as he drew a one through the air. “Gotta be faster, pussycat.”

Benji looked away, his jaw set in a stubborn way that he was denying Patrick a chance at a reaction. But his red cheeks and ears were more than enough.

“So, do you know what happened?” Patrick asked. “How you got here.”

Benji shook his head. “I drove, of course.”

Oh boy. It was going to be a long day.

Patrick led Benji two tables away, and gently brushed his elbow. His fingers twitched with the shock darting up his arm. He had to be mindful of that. He’d had a rule against casual touches for years, but Benji was somehow making him forget that. It made Patrick worry about what other rules might be next.  “You’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Benji clucked his tongue. “You’re really going for that trope? Are you going to ask how my heart is next?”

“You don’t have one anymore,” Patrick said as he plopped into the chair next to him.

“What?”

“You’re dead.”

The silence swallowed them. Overhead the fine musical stylings of Swedish pop filtered through the showroom.

“I’m what?” Benji asked. His voice soft.

“Was I mumbling?” Patrick folded his arms behind his head and leaned his chair back on two legs. “I could have mumbled. Did you hear me say you’re dead?”

“I got that.”

“Awesome.” Patrick let the chair slam back into place. He patted Benji on the shoulder. “Good chatting with you.” He pushed from the chair and turned to go, his good deed done for the day. There was that sob story in the entertainment showroom that was a more pressing matter.

“Wait.” Benji ordered him.

Patrick grunted under his breath as he slowly turned with a pivot of the heel. His Nikes squeaked on the tiles. “May I help you?”

“You tell me I’m dead and you leave it at that?” The words were resigned and barely audible. It cut through Patrick’s defenses much easier than anger or accusations would. He had a feeling Benji’s angry face would be about as threatening as a fluffy kitten after his first bath. But right now he just looked confused and more than a little betrayed, and it came off as impossibly charming. Patrick kind of wanted to cuddle him. What the hell.

Patrick shrugged. “Well. Yeah.”

“There’s more.”

“What do you mean more? There isn’t any more,” Patrick said, bewildered by Benji’s resistance.

“Of course there’s more.” Benji scowled, and his adorable factor skyrocketed. “We’re in Hell, right?”

Patrick clapped his hands in laughter but more in an effort to silence all argument. “Hell? Fuck no. That’s Walmart.”

“So, this is Heaven.”

“Nope.”

“What then? We’re just ghosts? There is no afterlife?” Benji swallowed. “Wait. That can’t be—you said there was a hell.”

Patrick kept his lips sealed, enjoying watching Benji puzzle it out.

“IKEA is Purgatory?”

Patrick pointed at him with a nod. “We got a winner.”

Benji blew out a breath and shook his head. “Unbelievable. How is this my life?” He barked out a short, harsh laugh. “Or I guess the point is that it isn’t my life, right? Good to know my afterlife is going to suck as much as my real life did.”

Patrick put a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded. Are you saying spending the rest of eternity here with me is a hardship?”

Benji glared at him. “I’m saying that I don’t even know how I died, let alone what I did to deserve to be here. If there’s a Hell and a Purgatory, that must mean there’s a Heaven, right? So why am I here? What did I do to deserve this?”

This? This was why Patrick usually left the heavy stuff to Karin. It was a huge adjustment, he got that. Hell, he’d lived it himself. Or not-lived it himself, whatever. The point was he understood, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stand here while Benji had an existential crisis. He had shit to do.

“I don’t know sunshine, serial jaywalking? Not sorting your recyclables before you put them out to the curb? The point is you are here, and no matter what happened to get you here.”

 

Copyright © 2015 Bru Baker and Lex Chase. All rights reserved.

[Flash Fiction Friday] Welcome Alexa Silver!

Hello Internet! Please welcome Alexa Silver for Flash Fiction Friday!

In her untitled piece, we meet Belinda. A woman on a business trip that accidentally finds herself with a famous actress’s luggage, and a lot more than she bargained for when she gets one on one with a sultry celebrity.

Please enjoy!

Untitled
by Alexa Silver

Belinda Matthews sighed and kicked off her shoes, sinking her bare toes into the plush carpet just inside her front door. The trip had been miserable—one problem after another, including Jones having made a pass at the CEO’s intern. Who also happened to be the CEO’s daughter. It had taken lot of work for Belinda to smooth that over.

The contract was done, the ink was dry, and Belinda wanted to celebrate. Tomorrow—tonight was just too much. Between the long workday and delayed flight, she was exhausted. She’d started work at six am, Eastern, and it was now eleven pm, Pacific. All she needed now was her favorite nightshirt and her bed.

Belinda picked up her heels, wincing as she walked. She hadn’t had the time to change clothes before boarding her flight and her bag had been checked, so even though she missed her connection in Denver, she’d been stuck with her business clothes. Unless she’d wanted to buy some sweats, and sneakers. and she wasn’t about to fly in those.

Belinda considered dragging her bright blue hardtop suitcase into the bedroom, but she was too wiped. Instead, she sat on the floor of her living room and unzipped it.

And found it wasn’t her suitcase at all.

Beautiful tops hung from one end, on a small rail. She didn’t need to touch them to know the fabrics were lush. The top zippered pocket of the suitcase contained what she hoped was costume jewelry, and gorgeous lingerie in a bag. Feeling as if she was intruding on someone’s life, Belinda carefully moved the clothes around, a gorgeous perfume surrounding her. Cherries, oranges, vanilla, subtle and anchored with something spicy and sexy. It just smelled expensive.

Belinda tried to ignore the tightening of her body, digging around carefully until she found a card. C. Z., it read, and a number. Belinda only hesitated a moment, thankful she’d left her cellphone in the pocket of her suitcoat. She could not have faced digging through her purse for it. She dialed the number and sat back, wiggling her aching feet, waiting, her stomach a little unsettled by the fact that someone else was looking through her things. God, what if they found the…

Belinda swallowed hard and waited as the phone rang once, twice…

“Hello?” The beautiful contralto carried over the phone and Belinda froze. She knew that voice—everyone knew that voice!

Carpathia Zane. Singer/actress extraordinaire. Mega famous, beautiful, the banner by which every woman was measured. Belinda’s massive crush.

“Hi, um…I’m Belinda. I think you have my bag?” She had to try to act cool and not react. She couldn’t seem as if she knew she was talking to a freaking superstar.

“Oh yes. Belinda Matthews, 317—”

“Yes, that’s me!” She could not let Carpathia say any more than that or she might spontaneously combust.

“My assistant is unreachable, Belinda. I’ll simply have to come over myself and gather my belongings, and return yours as well. I don’t suppose you have a doorman? Keyed entry?”

“No.”

“Good,” Carpathia purred. How could she purr an entire word, Belinda wondered. But her body knew—oh, how it knew!

“I’ll be over soon, dear. Wait for me.”

“I-I will.”

“Lovely.”

Belinda tried hard to hide her whimper, but it wasn’t easy. She closed her eyes, struggling for something to say, something witty to say. But there was nothing; she was overwhelmed, exhausted, and surprised to be talking with such a celebrity. Carpathia sounded cool and in control, as if she didn’t mind that a stranger had been through her personal items. Belinda, on the other hand, hoped Belinda had only gone as far as the top pocket, where her name was displayed.

“Just relax, Belinda. Pleasure…not business. Have a drink and let your hair down. If you’re the one I saw at baggage claim while Harrold was gathering my things, including your suitcase, you’re that gorgeous redhead with the too-tight bun. Take it down, honey. Relax. You’ll be among friends.” Carpathia’s voice dropped to a sexy whisper. “Very very good friends, I hope. If you’re interested…”

Those last three words hung in the air, and Belinda scrambled for something to say, aware that she was breathing way too fast and way too loudly. And she may have emitted a strangled sound. What did someone say to a superstar, who apparently wanted to be good friends—and Belinda didn’t think Carpathia meant coffee buddies.

“I thought you were interested,” Carpathia finished, and Belinda sensed a smile accompanied her words. “Then get very comfortable, dear. I may be staying the night.” She paused. “I have a dark green nightgown in my suitcase that would be beautiful against your skin. New, the tags on it. Put it on for me. I know it will fit you just fine.”

The call ended then and Belinda pulled the phone away from her ear in disbelief.

Carpathia Zane was coming over, and she might be spending the night. How in heaven’s name had that happened?

Wanna Name The Pawn Takes Rook Fandom?

Heroes! Name The Pawn Takes Rook Fandom! Live In Infamy!

Pawn Takes Rook: Checkmate Ever After is coming this December from DSP Publications. A paperback anthology collecting the first three Checkmate stories plus an all new fourth story, and a bonus short. On top of that, new material added to the first three books and a cover by phenomenal artist Anne Cain.

But… What do readers call it? What will we hashtag it on social media? How will readers find each other over reaction gifs? (Please let there be reaction gifs. They make me happy. I like being happy.)

So you, yes you can name the fandom! And what’s in it for you? A lovely $10 USD Dreamspinner Gift Certificate and go down in history that you named a fandom. 

How cool is that? Right?

The Rules:

1) Must be a unique hashtag or one that is not terribly common.

2) Must relate to the Checkmate series or characters.

3) Must not contain foul language.

4) Must be short. Fewer letters the better!

5) Must be your original idea. Feel free to collaborate with friends!

6) Submit as many as you’d like!

 

How about some suggestions!

#PTR (The first official hashtag.)

#AxisCitySupes (Plays on the theme!)

#MemphisBelles (Little long. Think Dixon’s Vixens, Loki’s Army, Loki’s Ladies.)

#Rooks (Call of Duty and Assassin’s Creed cashed in on this one. Siiigh.)

#Rookies (Meh.)

#Rookery (Is a building in Chicago.)

Name The Fandom Contest Ends:
June 30th 2015!
Stay sharp hero! The night is young!