Lex Chase's Blog, page 5

Art of Lex Chase now live at The Novel Approach!

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Hello, Internet! It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood! My new column, The Art of Lex Chase has begun at The Novel Approach.

I’ll be dropping by there once a month for a new piece, and a sneak peek at what I’m working on, and other shenanigans. For my first post, we have Yuri on Ice’s Yuri Katsuki, and a little sneak peek at something we have riiiiight here of my #HannibalOdyssey piece “The Knight and Nakama.”

The theme this time around was take Hannibal and twist the show into a sci-fi/fantasy setting. I decided to go all out anime/manga fantasy with it. So have a look at Chaos Mage Berserker Will!

[image error]What else do I have in store? Just you wait to see the finished piece!

Check out The Art of Lex Chase here!

[Flash Fiction Friday] Pat Henshaw Visits!

Hello, Internet! Pat Henshaw returns to Flash Fiction Friday with a contemporary tale about what happens when you run into the school bully at your high school reunion.

Restroom Revenge by Pat Henshaw

“Do what I tell you and everything will be fine.”

The arms of the guy behind me banded around my torso. Déjà vu of high school nightmares. I knew who it was and now ten years later could beat him at this game.

When he took a breath, I elbowed him in the chest, whipped around, and kneed him in the groin. Bernie went down with a thud.

Before I could have it out with him, the restroom door opened, and a vision of handsomeness entered, his glance going from Bernie on the floor clutching his junk to me standing over him.

“Alex?” the vision asked.

“It’s not what it looks like.” My fury eased as I recognized him. “Stephen?”

“Uh, Steve now. Can I help?”

I grinned, looked down at Bernie, and laughed.

“Nope. Think I’ve got it under control.”

Since Steve had been another of Bernie’s victims in those long ago high school days, we shared a laugh as we looked down at our groaning harasser.

“Should we kick him?” I wondered.

“He’d do that to us,” he muttered.

“So which is better? An eye for an eye? Or let bygones lie?”

I walked to the sink, keeping my eyes on Stephen’s golden brown hair, his sturdy build, his beautiful abs being displayed through his mohair sweater.

“If I’d known you were going to be here at the reunion, I’d have brought the book.”

“What book?” I was confused. Weren’t we talking about Bernie on the floor.

“Your book, silly.”

Oh, right. Wait. He bought a copy of my book?

“I’d get your autograph.”

While my mind swirled around the knowledge he owned the book, I washed my hands and listened to Bernie’s moans ease. Was he going to try the assault again?

Then the door to the restroom opened again. This time vice-principal Martin came in. He’d earned the name “vice” as far as I was concerned back then.

He stopped and stared at Bernie, whose groans were getting softer.

“Is there trouble here, boys?” He glared at me and Steve. “What happened?”

“Tripped,” I said as much as I could like Bernie had each time I’d been on the ground and he’d been standing over me. Now, however, I was taller and broader than Bernie.

Steve started laughing beside me. It hit me that Martin couldn’t do anything to us now. Unless Bernie wanted to press charges—what kind, I had no idea—we were at a standstill here.

“Bernie? What happened?” Martin’s voice made him sound confused.

And there it was. The shoe on the other foot. Tit for tat. Was Bernie going to roll over like he’d always wanted me to do? Or was he a scrapper like I’d been?

His mouth hung open and saliva was dripping down his chin. His hands still sheltered his groin. He had to clear his throat a couple times before he could speak.

“Nothing happened. I tripped. I’m fine.”

Let’s see. Steve and I were standing. Mr. Martin was standing. Bernie was in a fetus roll on the filthy high school bathroom floor. And everyone was all right?

The years of abuse and resentment eased themselves from my mind and my soul. I’d survived Bernie. I’d survived Mr. Martin. I was successful, and from the looks of him Steve had both survived and was successful too.

With a shake of his head, Martin left.

Bernie held up a hand.

“Help me up?”

I extended a hand and hoisted him to stand, ready to retaliate if he decided to continue his harassment.

On his feet, Bernie shook himself like a dog coming in from outside.

“You don’t understand, Joel. I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to be your friend.” His voice whined, and his body slumped.

“Funny way of showing it.”

Steve put his arm around my waist.

“So are you going to autograph my copy of the book?” As he pulled me closer, he kind of snuggled into me. “And I think they’re playing our song out there.”

I glanced at Bernie who looked completely nuked.

I shook my head.

Then putting my arm over Steve’s shoulders, I said, “Yeah, you’re right. They are playing our song.”

As we walked out the door, Steve growled, “Do what I tell you and everything will be fine.”

[Flash Fiction Friday] Kelly Jensen Returns!

Hello, Internet! Kelly Jensen returns for Flash Fiction Friday. I love having Kelly as a guest because she takes my prompts and always spins them into the most delightfully unexpected directions.

Bird Chatter by Kelly Jensen

“Something about him is…off.”

“Hmm?” Percy glanced over his shoulder to see who Jerry might be talking about.

Arrayed on the branch behind them were three brothers and four sisters, all with beaks clacking and feathers rustling. It was preening time, which meant gossip time. Nothing like a tidbit of scandal to go along the nitpicking of dust and mites, the resetting and smoothing of feathers.

“Him, on the end.” Jerry pecked at Percy’s scapulars, as if he’d leaned over to arrange his feathers rather than gesture toward the next branch over.

Percy tried not to turn his head all the way, though he prided himself on having a nearly 360 degree swivel. Not all blue jays could turn their heads all the way around. He’d need just about all that radius to take a gander at the bird perched at the end of the branch behind him, however.

After a few warm up swivels, Percy swung his beak toward his target.

“Not now!” Jerry squawked. “He’s looking right at us. Turn around. Turn around.”

Percy let his neck unwind a little too fast. The rest of the tree rushed past his eyes in a dizzying blur and he swayed on his perch a moment before regaining his equilibrium. “I nearly had him in view!”

“You didn’t have to turn all the way around that way. You looked like a crazy birdie, twirling your head like that. Just look the other way. Quickly. Now…no, wait… Now!”

Percy performed a less impressive five degree turn the other direction and looked at the bird perched at the end of the next branch. Oh, yeah, something about him was definitely…off.

“It’s his breast,” Percy reported once he faced forward again. He then leaned over to peck at the side of Jerry’s head. “Stop already. Any more preening and you’ll misalign my coverts.”

“I’m not even close to your coverts. Now sit still a moment, two of your secondaries are tangled.”

Percy extended his wing carefully to give Jerry access to his feathers. “He’s too blue.”

“I know! I mean, I like a blue breast on a guy”—proud of his show of blue, Percy puffed up his breast—“but there’s a right and wrong shade of blue. His is much too showy.”

“Maybe he’s related to Reginald,” Percy said.

“No, Reginald’s blue had a more violet tinge. You’re talking about Reginald who nested with Agatha last season, right?”

“I still can’t believe he left Arthur for that shrill.”

“Some birds like doing the whole egg thing,” Jerry said with a shrug.

Percy studied the veritable swarm of birds perched along every branch of the tree. “S’pose you’re right. He came from Catherine’s nest, didn’t he?”

“No, I’m pretty sure he was Gertrude and Bartholomew’s egg.”

“Bartholomew?” Percy cocked his head. “One-eyed-Bart? Did you see his mating flight?”

“Oh, I know. I’m amazed he caught Gertie at all. If you ask me, she let him catch her. She always had a soft spot for Bart.” Jerry had finished arranging Percy’s secondaries. “Extend your wing a little farther, sweets, and I’ll have a go at your marginals.”

It would be useless to argue. Percy extended his wing and practiced swiveling his neck again. Three hundred, three-twenty-or-so, three—

“Stop that. You look batty.”

He turned his head the other way and took another peek at Mr. Blue. Blinked rapidly. “Who is he, anyway?”

“I don’t know! I’m fairly certain he joined the flock last flight. What makes him think he can just perch on any old branch, I just can’t say. Highly impertinent.”

Percy eyed the stranger again. His breast really was quite blue. “Perhaps he’s lost. You know, we could just ask him who he is.”

“What if he’s someone important? Admitting we don’t know his name would be the worst sort of insult.”

“If he was that important, we’d know his name, Jerry.”

Jerry huffed into his feathers, shifting the ones he’d just aligned. Retracting his wing, Percy ducked his head to tend them. Beside him, he could feel Jerry turning to eye the strange bird.

“It’s not just his breast,” Jerry murmured. “There’s something about his eyes and his neck. It’s too thick.”

Which would make it harder to swivel, Percy thought.

“You know, I don’t think he’s a blue jay at all.”

“What else could he be?”

“Ever heard about cuckoos?”

Percy raised his head so suddenly, he dislodged a marginal. “You don’t think—” He glanced over his shoulder. “I didn’t think they worked in disguise.”

“Maybe they do now. I mean, you’d think we’d notice a different egg in the nest, but no one ever does, do they? So I can’t imagine why we would notice a different bird. But maybe someone did and now cuckoos are employing disguises.”

A shiver crept beneath Percy’s feathers. He scanned the rest of the birds on the next branch, then turned to look at Jerry, his little mind whirling with possibilities. “Maybe that’s what happened to Cornelius. There was always something odd about the bird that nested with him.”

“Oh my God, I think you’re right!”

Jerry began an agitated dance along the branch. “We need to do something. Say something!”

“But what? What can we say? Maybe he’s a deliberate plant.”

“What? Why?”

“Maybe the cuckoos aren’t content to move in one nest at a time.”

“How horrible. Percy! Percy! You know what this means, right?”

“That we have to find female mates and make more eggs?” His wings were flapping independently of thought, fluff and marginals flying around him in a dusty haze.

“Say it ain’t so!”

“We need to do something Jerry. Do something, do something, do something.”

Jerry launched from the branch with a petrified squawk and fluttered upward with short jerky thrusts of his wings. Percy followed. Their panic alerted the rest of the flock, who didn’t bother to look for the source. They simply followed, as a good flock must. Soon, the air was filled with the beat of wings and the shrill of anxious cries as every bird swarmed the air. The sky was thick with birds until they settled into a pattern, following the leader to safety, which was apparently the tree next door.

Percy settled gratefully onto a branch next to Jerry and immediately started pecking his feathers back into place. Jerry chirped anxiously for a few minutes before settling. Then he began swiveling his head. He still didn’t have quite the number of degrees Percy had.

He stopped moving. “Percy, Percy.”

“What?”

“Don’t look now, but that bird over there. Something about him is…off.”

[Flash Fiction Friday] Andrea Speed Is Back!

Hello, Internet! Welcome back to Flash Fiction Friday. Andrea Speed returns with a haunting piece she describes as “sometimes you wonder if you should show this to your psychiatrist.”

Please, enjoy!

Spark Joy by Andrea Speed

Simone had lost track of the days, and no longer cared about it. Whether it was April or September, or Tuesday or Friday, it made no difference, right? Not to her.

Every day was always the same. She got up, still tired, at six in the morning, got ready for work, caught the seven o’clock bus to 23rd and Wright, walked the one and a half blocks to Campbell Finance. She worked, bored by her colleagues, until four, and then she walked the block and half back to catch the five o’clock bus back to Holland Avenue, which was where her apartment block was. She occasionally stopped at the corner shop on the way home, buying whatever struck her mood – chocolate or ice cream or a pre-made sandwich, or a can of fortified wine that tasted like cough syrup fucked gasoline, but made her numb enough to sleep. Then she started the cycle all over again.

She wasn’t lonely, as she never really went for relationships anyway. She wouldn’t have minded a pet, but her apartment didn’t allow them. She was tired of this repetitive, unflavored oatmeal kind of life, but she wasn’t sure what she could do about it. She didn’t have the money to simply quit, and the job market wasn’t stable enough that she had the guarantee of picking up another job right away. Apartments in her price range were hard to find as well. Any way you looked at it, she was fucked.

Vaguely inspired by the current self-help trend of de-cluttering your life, Simone started cleaning out her apartment on the weekends, days when you’d think being off work would change her routine, but it didn’t by much. Once she started getting rid of things, she found it almost impossible to stop. But the rules were if something didn’t make you happy or “spark joy”, it had to go. She owned nothing that did that.

She emptied her main room until there was nothing but a TV, and the appliances that came with the apartment. She really wanted to get rid of the oven, which was a muddy green color she was sure went out in the ‘70’s, but the landlord would get mad, and she couldn’t afford to replace it. She kept her microwave because she needed to heat up food – had she ever used the stove? – but she found herself wanting to get rid of it anyway. Eventually, she trashed her ratty sofa, and sat on the floor after work, watching TV and drinking cans of putrid wine.

Simone started de-cluttering at work too. She trashed everything she could, and hid what she couldn’t throw away in the drawers of her desk, leaving only her phone and computer out in the open. The manager praised her for such a clean work area, which made her want to upend her wastebasket on it. But she didn’t.

It was one night when she was laying on the floor, looking at the twitching lights thrown up on the ceiling by her television, that Simone realized what she had to do. She had to spark joy in her life. Easy enough to say, but when you weren’t sure you were capable of feeling joy anymore, what did you do?

It came to her after her third can of wine.

The next day was just like every other day, but she felt lighter inside, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Simone no longer had a tightness in her chest that made her feel like every one of her acceptably bland, cheap blouses was too small. Yes, today she had a heavy backpack that was threatening to dislocate her shoulder, but there was something strangely ignorable about it.

She worked as usual, but when the boss said he needed someone to work late, she volunteered. The boss never stopped to think it was weird, since she’d never volunteered before, which was her one fear. But he didn’t care, as long as someone did the work. The actual peon who did it was incidental.

She waited until everyone had gone, save for her, and the janitorial staff, which was down on the third floor. They’d have more than enough time to get out.

Alone on the darkened office floor, the window walls looking into a darkened skyscraper across the way, Simone emptied the backpack of its cans of fortified wine and gasoline. She helped herself to a can of wine while she poured out the gas and the rest of the wine, which she had learned through experimentation was highly flammable. As it tasted, so it did.

She made crisscrossing lines over desks, over Jerry’s stupid bobblehead collection, over the neutral beige carpet between cubicles. The smell started to make her dizzy, but Simone smiled, because she hadn’t felt this good in ages.

She sat back down at her desk, and said, “Let’s spark some joy.” She used a disposable lighter to light up a file in her desk drawer, and threw it out into the aisle, where the gasoline and wine ignited with a whump. The fire spread fast and far, lighting up the office in the same type of squirming light the television had thrown up on the ceiling, only better. She was surprised that the heat was nearly immediate.

She picked up the phone, and finished her wine with a gulp before someone picked up. “Hello, 9-1-1? I’d like to report a fire.” The person was saying something, but she ignored them. “Where am I? Oh. In Hell.” The person was still talking as she hung up.

And for the first time in a long time, Simone laughed.

[Flash Fiction Friday] Kim Fielding Is Here!

Hello, Internet! One of my favorite Flash Fiction Friday guests Kim Fielding is here with a fun one. What do you do when a ball of fire rolls across your yard? Call the HOA?

The Carmichaels by Kim Fielding

Rob paused with the sponge dripping into the sink, his gaze focused out the window. “Hey, honey?”

Sitting at the kitchen table and trying to get through her personal email before leaving for work, Melissa didn’t glance up. “Hmm?”

“Did you see the forecast for today?”

“Hang on. I have to finish…. There. What did you say?”

“Did you see today’s forecast?”

She scrunched up her face thoughtfully. “Um… chance of showers?”

“Nothing about— Oh. There goes another one.”

“Another what?” she asked as she deleted yet another email from the Democratic National Party and then took a sip of her cooling coffee.

“Ball of fire,” Rob replied.

“Great balls of fire, like the Jerry Lee Lewis song? Or a ring of fire, like the Johnny Cash one?” She decided that tonight she’d definitely go to bed at a reasonable hour. Last night she and Rob had binge-watched Fargo, and she’d be paying for that today.

“No. Ball of fire. And— Wow. The Carmichaels’ house just burst into flames.”

Melissa deleted two more emails—an Old Navy ad and something from Groupon—stood, and stretched. Then she wandered over to the sink. “Rob, you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Oops.” He dropped the sponge into the sink. “But see what I mean?”

She peered out the window. “Yeah. Wow. Big flames. And what’s that over there?” She pointed at something at the far end of their back yard.

He craned his neck. “I can’t…. I think I need new glasses.”

“Didn’t you just get new ones?”

“No, that was a couple of years ago. Remember? It was right before we went on that trip to San Diego.”

“Oh! That’s right. Well, maybe it is time for a new prescription.” She tilted her head slightly as she looked outside. “That thing is green and shiny. And big. I think it’s a dragon.”

“Really? It looks kind of bulky for that. Aren’t dragons supposed to be long and slinky, like snakes?”

Melissa shrugged. “Maybe this one works out. It definitely has wings. And I’m not sure, but those look like scales it’s covered in.”

Rob touched his cheek with his wet hand, grimaced, and then used the dry hand to wipe away the moisture. “Well, I guess a dragon would explain the balls of fire.”

Nodding, Melissa glanced at her watch. She maybe had time for another cup of coffee. “The homeowners association rules ban livestock. Do you think that includes dragons?”

“Ah, the Carmichaels don’t care. They’ve already painted their house a non-regulation color and they keep parking their RV on the street.”

“Well, the paint problem’s solved,” Melissa pointed out. The fire roared loudly enough for them to hear it, even inside, and the dragon settled more comfortably onto the Carmichaels’ lawn.

“I think we should still file a complaint about the RV,” Rob said.

“Really? I don’t think it’s worth it.” She leaned in close and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be home late today, remember. I have that meeting. Want me to pick up something for dinner on my way home?”

He wrapped his arm around her waist for a gentle squeeze. “That’d be great, hon. I have a meeting too. And I was going to get the oil changed in my car today.” He let her go.

“See you tonight,” she sang as she picked up her purse and headed for the door.

“Mel?”

She stopped to turn and look at him. “Yeah?”

“I’m willing to overlook the RV, but if that dragon’s still here tonight, I’m definitely going to complain.”

Pre-Order Bonanza!

Hello, Internet! It’s been a crazy week over here. I have not only one but two stories available for pre-order and will be released next month within a week of each other. Nuts, I say! Nuts!

The first is my States of Love novella The Unlikely Prospect will be available on December 7th! The story takes place in my lovely home state of Maine. I can’t wait for readers to meet my boys Harper and Sean and experience my great pride for being a Yankee. Let’s just step back for a minute and acknowledge I wrote a contemporary. OMG!

Blurb:

In Prospect Harbor, Maine, lobsterman Harper Cook has always loved the sea. He and his two brothers work the harbor waters, in a fishing village of one thousand where everybody knows everybody else’s business and nobody wants to be different.

When it’s time for the annual Men of Maine pinup calendar, Harper’s brothers eagerly volunteer him. Harper isn’t thrilled to bare it all to raise money for an elementary school playground—until he meets out-and-proud Los Angeles out-a-statah Sean Blackburn: the highly available first-grade teacher with Hollywood heartthrob looks.

Harper has no desire to ever stand out from the crowd, but Sean persists and earns Harper’s friendship. Through Sean, Harper opens up to new possibilities. Things get steamy, but Harper still protects his heart. Though the right pressure in the right place might crack even a loner lobsterman out of his shell.

 

States of Love: Stories of romance that span every corner of the United States.

Next up I was lucky to be in the Once Upon a Time in the Weird West Anthology coming hot on the heels of The Unlikely Prospect a week later on December 16th! It’s a speculative fiction anthology telling twisted tales of the Old West. It’s got it all! Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Mystery, Paranormal, and possums on the half-shell! (Those would be armadillos.) Frequent Flash Fiction Friday visitor, Kim Fielding was lovely to put this together. My tale is Dr. Ezekiel Crumb’s Heavenly Soul Purifying Elixir and have the blurb!

Blurb:

Dr. Ezekiel Crumb’s Heavenly Soul Purifying Elixir by Lex Chase

Dr. Ezekiel Crumb’s Medicine Show runs a booming business conning homesteaders with his Heavenly Soul Purifying Elixir. He takes advantage of the gullible, who believe the only way to be purged of their sins is with his moonshine—strong enough to strip paint at forty paces.

When a sandstorm buries his caravan, Ezekiel is hauled to safety and trapped in his wagon. His savior is none other than Levi Everett, his lost love. But Ezekiel put him in the ground years ago, and he fears Levi is the Devil, come to demand atonement for his sins. The tale Levi spins leaves Ezekiel wondering if he’s lost his own soul—or maybe his mind. All he knows is that not even his elixir can heal his broken heart.

Once Upon a Time in the Weird West includes: Astrid Amara, Shira Anthony, Jana Denardo, Jamie Fessenden, Kim Fielding, Andrew Q. Gordon, Ginn Hale, Langley Hyde, Venona Keyes, Nicole Kimberling, C.S. Poe, Tali Spencer, and yours truly!

Have A Taste #ThePumpkinIsPeople

Happy Halloween, Fannibals! As we Fannibals gather for a ghoulish trick or treat with Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive’s #ThePumpkinIsPeople event!

For my contribution, sweet Will is feeling a little under the weather but not to fret! Dr. Lecter has a tasty treat in store for his pet. That’s not marzipan…

“There’s a good boy, Will… Open wide…”

“Have a Taste” by Lex Chase

Photo courtesy of Madison Parker Photography.

Lex Chase once heard Stephen King say in a commercial, “We’re all going to die, I’m just trying to make it a little more interesting.” Now, she’s on a mission to make the world a hell of a lot more interesting.

Weaving tales of cinematic, sweeping adventure—and depending on how she feels that day—Lex sprinkles in high-speed chases, shower scenes, and more explosions than a Hollywood blockbuster. Her pride is in telling stories of men who kiss as much as they kick ass. If you’re going to march into the depths of hell, it better be beside the one you love.

Lex is a pop culture diva, her DVR is constantly backlogged, she has intense emotions about Hannibal’s Hannigram, and unapologetically loved the ending of Lost. She wouldn’t last five minutes without technology in the event of the apocalypse and has nightmares about refusing to leave her cats behind.

You can find her in the Intarwebz here:

Official Site

Dreamspinner Press

DSP Publications

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

Instagram

GayRomLit Wrap-Up!

Hello, Internet! Another GayRomLit has come and gone, leaving behind the warring urge to sleep for a month and create all the things at the same time. I regrettably didn’t take enough pictures. I took a lot of Kansas City, not a lot of the con itself.

This year, I decided to make the most of it with not only two readings, but volunteering my time at the Queer Sci-Fi table as well. On top of that, I enlisted the aid of my superfan turned BFF turned baby sister from another mister, Mae as my official cosplayer/booth babe. But really she was my tiny cruise director keeping me from losing my mind.

Once again, my Mom came along this year. While she didn’t make much of an appearance on the con floor due to feeling a little under the weather, many folks asked about her. So, thanks to those who remembered my crazy, sassy Mom!

Also this year I was given gifts! HOMG! I was gifted with a lovely journal from Juli-Anna Dobson, and Bru Baker gifted me with my much delayed birthday and Christmas gifts of Reaper Bunny and gasp! A Princess Aurora Funko! I have emotions about Aurora. Emotions!

For my two readings, the first I read from a super emotional tear jerking scene in Urban Fairy Tale as the villain Atticus says goodbye to his true love Idi the Witchking. In all of my rehearsing to get the inflection just right, Mae reports it actually came out better than I had rehearsed it. I can honestly say I went completely blank. As if outside of my own body and just read the words. I did, as predicted, choke up at the end.

The second reading was from my soon-to-be released contemporary The Unlikely Prospect coming this December. The story is featured in the Dreamspinner Press States of Love line and takes place in my home state of Maine and is about a closeted gay lobsterman falling for an out and proud first grade teacher from LA. I had…. no idea how it would go over. And I was in a reading group with KC Wells and Hank Edwards so no pressure you know. Everyone was cackling so damned much at the funny bits I started giggling too and tripping over myself. I got through it! And I was pretty pleased with how it went over.

I did something a little different with my swag this year and gave away prints I had illustrated. So for those of you who took prints, here they are! And those of you who asked for commissions, read on down below!

Screw-Up Princess and Skillful Huntsman Prints

Dude Princess Taylor Hatfield and Huntsman Corentin Devereaux of the Screw-Up Princess and Skillful Huntsman series was done as an exclusive for The Novel Approach. Also known as my Fairy Tales of the Open Road series this was a fun one of the two guys being lazy and adorable.

 

 

 

Screw-Up Princess and Skillful Huntsman Cast Cards. Featuring Taylor, Corentin, Atticus, and Idi, I gave away two different prints during my two lounges. And all graphics and photo manipulation designed by yours truly.

Grow Prints

Iris, our hero of Grow. This is a series I mentioned I’m currently seeking an agent for. It’s a dystopian about a cataclysmic event striking the US Eastern seaboard rendering the entire populations of the US, Canada, and Mexico extinct. Years pass, and the other countries get word that there are indeed signs of life. Only these new humans aren’t humans. They’re plants. Iris is quite literally an iris. Meanwhile the other countries are scrambling for ideas on wtf to do about this new species.

Muir of Grow. A mangy as hell dog of a human. He’s nasty, disgusting, and insanely charismatic. He’s also Iris’s love interest. But Iris is convinced Muir isn’t real. After all…humans don’t exist anymore. Is Iris going insane? This piece is my favorite of the bunch. I was sure it would be the least popular, I was wrong that it was the most popular of all.

Muir and Iris aka Muiris (aka That Couple)

It’s GRL! And everyone needs a little naughty. Naughty Muiris hits the spot. They are that couple ifyouknowwhatImean, and thanks to everyone who listened to me babble about their illicit affair and fanned themselves about stories of Muir’s preference to bite instead of kiss. (Can I get a HELL YEAH?)

Odds and Ends Prints: Sloane Brodie of THIRDS and Hannigram of Hannibal

My dear friend Charlie Cochet wasn’t in attendance this year, but I had created this print of Destructive Delta’s very own Sloane as a treat for readers. #TeamSexyPants ftw!

Aaaaaahhh Hannigram. I fucking love the shit out of Hannibal. Love it. This is one of my favorite pieces of the bunch. I had the great joy of telling readers nonono the fandom seriously didn’t make up the Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham ship. It’s 100% a real thing. It’s fantastic. I ran into a few readers who love the show, or know someone who does and asked for a print on their behalf. Also I met a lovely Fannibal (who I forgot her name! OMG!) who was just as overcome with emotions as much as I was. The fun part was convincing Meg Badwen to check out the show.

About Those Commission Requests!

In case you didn’t notice, I had quite a bit of my art floating around GRL. I had done a couple pieces for C.S. Poe as well as Felice Stevens. C.S. was a beautiful print of the Mystery of Nevermore cast. Felice had trading cards of her Breakfast Club boys. I’m very pleased with how they turned out!

I’ve had at least five people ask me if I did covers. I mentioned I didn’t at the time but I’m looking into it. I’m currently working on an Audible cover for one client, and I am experienced in print formatting for front and back copy. I’ve just never had the opportunity as of yet. But if you are interested, you can check out my samples and more over here on my Commissions Page!

Now For The Group Hug!

I want to thank everyone for making this GRL one of the most memorable. And also for coming up to me when most didn’t have the foggiest of who I was. Thank you for adding me to your TBRs and thank you for taking keen interest in that I draw stuff!

Many thanks to C.S. Poe for her special brand of pep talks when it’s the most encouraging kick to the teeth you’ll ever get. Felice Stevens for her sass and zero fucks given. To Tali Spencer and M.A. Church for inspiring me to want to grow up and be you guys. KC Wells and Hank Edwards whom I had only interacted with for three seconds before on the internet and for the awesome synergy our reading session had. Hank especially for Abigail Barcelona! To Rory Ni Coiliean, for her awesome song and Neil Plakcy for being an all around nice guy. To Jordan L. Hawk for taking the time to chat. To Elisa Rolle for several thought provoking conversations (and I didn’t faint in awe!) To Crissy Morris, Queen of the Precious Snowflakes. GURL YOU NEARLY MADE ME CRY! To Juli-Anna Dobson for being the best. To Christina Siefkas Johnson for putting up with Mom’s hijinks. Welcome to the insanity!

10-9: The Best Story That Never Was

Hello, Internet! Today is a very special personal holiday for me. Over a decade ago I had begun a story called 10-9. The entire plot, like pretty much all of my novels was inspired from a five-minute conversation with a friend. While it had more than a few moving parts, but the premise was a love story about a military captain named Ahimsa Siven and a war correspondent named St. John Burroughs. It was also the tale of two brokenhearted soul mates given a second chance before it was too late. It was a story of lost love and letting go.

It was also the first novel I had ever written featuring full-scale war sequences where I had cut my teeth on writing fight scenes. The world building was massive, even the tiniest details from fictional languages with dialects to dishes that not only don’t exist, but how they’re made. I even puzzled out the military technology, or even how things we took for granted worked in this world. Smartphones, the internet, even television and so on.

Despite my love of this story, I can’t sell it for a number of reasons. Despite the idea, the execution at the time wasn’t there. I could maybe revisit it again when the opportunity presents itself.

But every year, every October 9th, I commemorate the event in some way. This year, I decided to revisit one of my old sketches from over eight years ago. Ahimsa and John were a study in several differences.

Ahimsa was my study of what I called the Maternal Male. He was a blend of male and female physiology, also despite his 6’6″ frame, all of his hard masculine angles were portrayed with feminine curving lines. He had a hybridized hourglass figure. Broad masculine chest, tiny waist with well-defined abs, and curvaceous hips.

John on the other hand was small, 5’4″ on a fantastic hair day but had the ferocity of a rabid bulldog. What he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in his aggressiveness and resourcefulness. He had always been depicted with hard, sharp, and squared off angles. He was possessive and protective of Ahimsa, at times their beliefs and stubbornness at war with each other.

They were a pair in such a deep near obsessive and destructive love that only they could understand. But they were my babies who started at all. So on this October 9th, I’m raising a cup of coffee, having a cupcake with a candle, and sharing this moment with all of you.

Happy Anniversary, Guys. Thanks for leading me to where I’m supposed to be.

“I Got You” by Lex Chase

Art Commissions Now Open!

Well. It’s happening. Er…Happened.

After eight long years, I’ve finally dug out my stylus and Wacom tablet and am officially tossing my hat in the ring for commissions.

I’ve been doing commissions on the down-low since June, but now I’ve opened up shop!

I’m offering my services to authors looking to punch up their promotional swag for con season. Everyone gets tired of the same ol’, same ol’. Take it from an author who knows. Everyone wants something they can’t get everywhere else.

Need something a little special to spice up a blog tour? I’ve got you covered! Humans are visual creatures. And let’s get the conversation rolling!

Need postcards? Trading cards? Banners? Posters? Hit me up. I have several pieces making their premiere at GRL 2016 that I cannot reveal as of yet. But have a few pieces I’ve created for myself!

How about a fluffy-haired post-apocalyptic hero?

 

Or a mangy dog of a love interest?

 

Or…Murder Husbands?

Or perhaps you need something toothrottingly cute?

Something sassy?

Or just something that makes you go awwwwww…

Like what you see? For more examples and my price list, check it out here!