Heather C. Leigh's Blog
October 23, 2017
There’s so many Pirates I need a bottle of rum and a map to find them all.
October 18, 2017
May 15, 2017
Monty Python/Nicholas Sparks Mashup
Welcome to the second installment of media mashup. Today’s mashup is Monty Python meets Nicholas Sparks. For those of you who didn’t read last week’s blog, my posts take the idea that if one pop culture reference is good, two has to be better, right?
I’ve always loved Monty Python and their skits and movies. Ridiculous, hilarious, and pretty much any kind of —ous you can think of so long as it involves doubling over, tears streaming down your face laughter. The person that doesn’t snort their drink out of their nose when watching the Black Knight proclaim he’s invincible, in my opinion, is seriously lacking in the humor department.
Conversely, Nicholas Sparks uses his books and movies to make people bawl their eyes out. While I get that not everyone likes the same things, and that’s okay, I don’t understand why you would purposely entertain yourself by being reduced to a snotty, scrying mess. Deep connection, fate, romance, blah, blah, yeah, I hear you. But if Nicholas Sparks could just add a tad bit of Monty Python’s sharp wit, it’s quite possible I would be willing to watch one of Mr. Sparks’ movies and get past the first fifteen minutes. I just can’t end up like this guy…
Alas, I can only assume my suggestion will fall on deaf ears, which leaves it up to me to create a mashup and bring the two worlds together.
Scene: EXTERIOR forest. ARTHUR and PATSY ride up to a bridge, coconuts clip-clopping, to discover a knight dressed entirely in black locked in combat with a knight dressed similarly in green. Swords clash as powerful trumpets herald in the background. Arthur and Patsy come to a stop to watch the battle.
They are evenly matched, fighting with obvious skill. GREEN KNIGHT lunges and the BLACK KNIGHT shoves him back, quickly dispatching the Green Knight by tossing his sword into the slit in the Green Knight’s armored face mask. Arthur and Patsy are equally impressed. They approach the Black Knight.
ARTHUR- “I am Arthur, King of the Britains. You have proved yourself worthy, will you join me?” When there is no answer, Arthur and Patsy exchange a look and move to cross the bridge.
BLACK KNIGHT- “None shall pass.”
ARTHUR- Believes he knows the low voice that comes from behind the black armored faceplate, but shakes off the nagging feeling. “I have no quarrel with you, sir knight, but I must cross this bridge.”
BLACK KNIGHT- “None shall pass. I move for no man.”
ARTHUR- “So be it.”
Arthur draws his weapon and the two fight, weapons clanging. Patsy is heard weeping in the background, fearful his long time companion, Arthur, could fall to the Black Knight’s sword. Swiftly ducking every one of the Knight’s blows, Arthur swings his own down and severs the Knight’s arm from the shoulder. Blood spurts out comically from the socket.
ARTHUR- “Now stand aside.”
BLACK KNIGHT- “Tis but a scratch.”
Once more the sound of the Knight’s voice stirs up old emotions in Arthur. Emotions Arthur believed he’d never feel again, instead burying them deep and taking comfort in others to patch wounds that never quite healed.
ARTHUR- “A scratch? Your arm’s off?”
BLACK KNIGHT- “No it isn’t.”
ARTHUR- “What’s that then.” Points at the arm.
BLACK KNIGHT- “I’ve had worse.”
ARTHUR- “You’re a liar.”
They continue fighting and Arthur slices off the Knight’s other arm.
ARTHUR- “Victory is mine!”
But the Black Knight comes at Arthur again, kicking out with his feet.
BLACK KNIGHT- “Had enough yet?”
ARTHUR- “You haven’t got any arms!”
BLACK KNIGHT- “Yes I have.”
ARTHUR- Points at the detached arms. “Look!”
BLACK KNIGHT- “It’s only a flesh wound.”
The Black Knight advances, kicking at Arthur with relentless passion. Arthur rolls his eyes and cuts off both of the Knight’s legs.
BLACK KNIGHT- “I’ll do you for that!”
ARTHUR- “What are you going to do, bleed on me?”
BLACK KNIGHT- “I’m invincible!”
ARTHUR- “You’re a looney.”
PATSY- “Arthur, we should go.”
Patsy tugs at Arthur’s arm, but Arthur can’t move. It’s the Knight’s voice. He knows it. Arthur kneels at the Knight’s side and goes to remove the man’s helmet.
PATSY- “Don’t!”
But it’s too late. Arthur reveals the face behind the mask, a face he knew well once upon a time. A face he caressed and loved and covered with kisses as they basked, naked in a field of wildflowers.
ARTHUR- “Laura? It’s you? I thought you dead.”
LAURA/BLACK KNIGHT- (Breathless) “Tis I, sweet love.”
She sags and Arthur cradles her torso in his arms. Blood seeps out of her wounds, wounds Arthur inflicted. Her eyes flutter and a trickle of blood runs out of the corner of her mouth. She’s dying in his arms. His one and only, dying.
ARTHUR- “Laura! No, you can’t leave me, not after I’ve finally found you after all these years.”
LAURA- “I’m so sorry, sweet love. For leaving you, for marrying your brother, for… (coughs) everything.”
Laura closes her eyes and dies. Arthur weeps, cradling her body to his chest.
PATSY- “Well, that was awkward. Can we go now?”
Follow my blog for more mashups, and subscribe to my newsletter for information about my books, signings, and giveaways. In the meantime, be sure not to turn into a newt.
HC LEIGH
May 5, 2017
Dexter/Seinfeld Mashup
For whatever bizarre reason, last night I was thinking about my two favorite TV shows, Dexter and Seinfeld, or specifically, the title characters. Then I had an idea. A really strange idea. What would happen if the shows were mashedup? If Dexter Morgan and Jerry Seinfeld got together for a cup of coffee to shoot the breeze? I know, I know, weird. But readers need to know the truth about us. About authors. This post right here? This is exact kind of crazy authors think up all the time. Readers have no clue how random and bizarre the things ricocheting around the gray matter between our ears are ninety-percent of our waking. Meh, maybe ninety-nine percent and in our dreams as well, but hey, you get the picture.
So… on to our interview. Dexter is waiting at the coffee shop near Jerry’s apartment. His predatory nature requires he arrive fifteen minutes early so his Dark Passenger can scope out the café, pinpoint all the exits, and note any suspicious activities. Sipping his god-awful coffee, Dexter’s shrewd gaze continuously takes a calculated assessment of the room and the handful of patrons scattered about.
Jerry: “Helloooo!” Seinfeld’s entrance is met with a bevy of greetings from other diners. He saunters over to Dexter’s table and takes one look at the brooding man before giving the waitress one of his sarcastic ‘what the heck is wrong with this guy’ looks—complete with thumb jabbing in Dexter’s direction—before sliding into the opposite side of the booth. “I’m Jerry. You must be Dexter.”
Dexter’s Dark Passenger: (to himself) Yes, among other, more evil things.
Dexter: Pastes on a smile, doing his best imitation of a polite human. “Dexter Morgan, pleased to meet you.”
Jerry: “Really? Pleased? Let me get this straight. You are pleased to meet me?” Jerry chuckles. “I find that hard to believe.”
Dexter: Dexter’s mask slips and he becomes the cold, calculating killer, born in blood to become what he is today. “I forgot.” Dexter allows his Dark Passenger to smirk. “You already know what I am. Who I am, which means there’s no need for me to wear my mask during our little… chat.”
Jerry: “Ah yes, the infamous mask. What exactly is this mask made of? Is it latex? I have a great latex salesman if you need one. Or do you just stand in front of the mirror and practice making faces? Like, one day do you come up with something and say ‘this smile is for when I’m creepy’ and ‘this one is for when I’m about to cut people into tiny pieces’?”
Dexter: Arches a sinister, curved brow. “I do whatever my Dark Passenger tells me to do.”
Jerry: Makes a face. “Dark Passenger? You have a Dark Passenger? Do you carry him around all the time? Like, on your back? I would think after a while he would get pretty heavy. Do you have a good chiropractor?” Jerry laughs.
Dexter: (stares)
Jerry: Scratch sense of humor off the list of this guy’s charming personality traits. “Hey, did you ever wonder what serial killers are thinking when they decide who they’re going to kill? I mean do they just pick one out like a steak at the butcher shop? Pretends to be looking at something and points. ‘Hmmm, that one looks good, nice and thick and tender. Hey buddy, give me two pounds of the investment banker. Oh, and another pound of soccer mom.’ I mean, take a look around this place. Who would you kill?” Jerry points toward a man eating alone at the counter. “Take that guy over there. He’s by himself, kind of pathetic looking. I think if I were a serial killer, I’d kill him. No one would miss a guy like that.” Jerry snorts. “Actually, come to think of it, he kind of reminds me of my friend George…”
Dexter: As Jerry tapers off, Dexter gives the man at the counter a cursory glance before leveling an emotionless stare at Jerry. “No. I don’t wonder what serial killers are thinking. I know what they’re thinking. In fact, I’m kind of an expert. My sister Debra comes to me all the time asking questions about cases. Poor thing.” There’s a gleam in Dexter’s previously lifeless eyes. “Besides, that guy isn’t my type.”
Jerry: Hmph. The blood spatter analyst has no sense of humor. Great. Might as well be talking to Newman. “Okay, then who is your type?”
Dexter: “Killers.”
Jerry: “Killers? What does that mean? You only kill killers?”
Dexter: “Yes. They must deserve to die, and I have to prove their guilt with ironclad evidence. It’s the only way. Harry’s code.”
Jerry: “Well, I hate to point out the obvious… actually, that’s not true, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy pointing it out. Aren’t you a killer? By your, or Harry’s, code, you have to kill yourself.”
Dexter: “It doesn’t work that way, my Dark Passenger protects me. We serve a higher purpose, therefore, we must continue to live in order to take out the guilty.” Though right about now we wouldn’t mind making an exception to permanently shut you up.
Jerry: “You are one strange man, Dexter Morgan. Stranger than my friend Kramer, and he is really strange.” Dexter frowns and quirks his brow again. “Hey now, I’ve never killed anyone buddy, that means I’m safe. Well, unless you count killing it on stage. I’ve done that a million times.” Jerry laughs at his own joke.
Dexter: ….
Jerry: “Anyone ever tell you that you need to loosen up?”
Dexter: “No. I’m quite adept at pretending to be human.”
Jerry: “Meh, I get it. To be honest, I don’t actually care about other people at all. I wouldn’t go so far as to kill them.” Jerry holds up his hands. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Dexter: Grins. “No, there isn’t.”
Jerry: “Okay, so, thanks for the chat.” Slowly slides out of booth and tosses money on the table. “I think I’m gonna go now. I gotta be… somewhere. I’m not going to say ‘see you later’ because I have to tell you, I have absolutely no plans of ever talking to you again if I can help it.”
Dexter: “I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Stands and pulls a pair of leather gloves out of his back pocket, carefully pulling each one on and flexing his fingers. “Besides, I have plans of my own.”
Jerry: Watches Dexter paste a pleasant look on his face as he leaves the diner. “Man, that guy is really, really bizarre.” Realizes something and takes off after Dexter. “Hey! Wait up! I need to tell you about my neighbor, Newman. You might be interested in hearing about him. Now, to my knowledge, Newman hasn’t actually killed anyone, but the guy is so irritating…”
Dexter meets Seinfeld
For whatever bizarre reason, last night I was thinking about my two favorite TV shows, Dexter and Seinfeld, or specifically, the title characters. Then I had an idea. A really strange idea. What would happen if Dexter Morgan and Jerry Seinfeld got together for a cup of coffee to shoot the breeze? I know, I know, weird. But readers need to know the truth about us. About authors. This post right here? This is exact kind of crazy authors think up all the time. Readers have no clue how random and bizarre the things ricocheting around the gray matter between our ears are ninety-percent of our waking. Meh, maybe ninety-nine percent and in our dreams as well, but hey, you get the picture.
So… on to our interview. Dexter is waiting at the coffee shop near Jerry’s apartment. His predatory nature requires he arrive fifteen minutes early so his Dark Passenger can scope out the café, pinpoint all the exits, and note any suspicious activities. Sipping his god-awful coffee, Dexter’s shrewd gaze continuously takes a calculated assessment of the room and the handful of patrons scattered about.
Jerry: “Helloooo!” Seinfeld’s entrance is met with a bevy of greetings from other diners. He saunters over to Dexter’s table and takes one look at the brooding man before giving the waitress one of his sarcastic ‘what the heck is wrong with this guy’ looks—complete with thumb jabbing in Dexter’s direction—before sliding into the opposite side of the booth. “I’m Jerry. You must be Dexter.”
Dexter’s Dark Passenger: (to himself) Yes, among other, more evil things.
Dexter: Pastes on a smile, doing his best imitation of a polite human. “Dexter Morgan, pleased to meet you.”
Jerry: “Really? Pleased? Let me get this straight. You are pleased to meet me?” Jerry chuckles. “I find that hard to believe.”
Dexter: Dexter’s mask slips and he becomes the cold, calculating killer, born in blood to become what he is today. “I forgot.” Dexter allows his Dark Passenger to smirk. “You already know what I am. Who I am, which means there’s no need for me to wear my mask during our little… chat.”
Jerry: “Ah yes, the infamous mask. What exactly is this mask made of? Is it latex? I have a great latex salesman if you need one. Or do you just stand in front of the mirror and practice making faces? Like, one day do you come up with something and say ‘this smile is for when I’m creepy’ and ‘this one is for when I’m about to cut people into tiny pieces’?”
Dexter: Arches a sinister, curved brow. “I do whatever my Dark Passenger tells me to do.”
Jerry: Makes a face. “Dark Passenger? You have a Dark Passenger? Do you carry him around all the time? Like, on your back? I would think after a while he would get pretty heavy. Do you have a good chiropractor?” Jerry laughs.
Dexter: (stares)
Jerry: Scratch sense of humor off the list of this guy’s charming personality traits. “Hey, did you ever wonder what serial killers are thinking when they decide who they’re going to kill? I mean do they just pick one out like a steak at the butcher shop? Pretends to be looking at something and points. ‘Hmmm, that one looks good, nice and thick and tender. Hey buddy, give me two pounds of the investment banker. Oh, and another pound of soccer mom.’ I mean, take a look around this place. Who would you kill?” Jerry points toward a man eating alone at the counter. “Take that guy over there. He’s by himself, kind of pathetic looking. I think if I were a serial killer, I’d kill him. No one would miss a guy like that.” Jerry snorts. “Actually, come to think of it, he kind of reminds me of my friend George…”
Dexter: As Jerry tapers off, Dexter gives the man at the counter a cursory glance before leveling an emotionless stare at Jerry. “No. I don’t wonder what serial killers are thinking. I know what they’re thinking. In fact, I’m kind of an expert. My sister Debra comes to me all the time asking questions about cases. Poor thing.” There’s a gleam in Dexter’s previously lifeless eyes. “Besides, that guy isn’t my type.”
Jerry: Hmph. The blood spatter analyst has no sense of humor. Great. Might as well be talking to Newman. “Okay, then who is your type?”
Dexter: “Killers.”
Jerry: “Killers? What does that mean? You only kill killers?”
Dexter: “Yes. They must deserve to die, and I have to prove their guilt with ironclad evidence. It’s the only way. Harry’s code.”
Jerry: “Well, I hate to point out the obvious… actually, that’s not true, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy pointing it out. Aren’t you a killer? By your, or Harry’s, code, you have to kill yourself.”
Dexter: “It doesn’t work that way, my Dark Passenger protects me. We serve a higher purpose, therefore, we must continue to live in order to take out the guilty.” Though right about now we wouldn’t mind making an exception to permanently shut you up.
Jerry: “You are one strange man, Dexter Morgan. Stranger than my friend Kramer, and he is really strange.” Dexter frowns and quirks his brow again. “Hey now, I’ve never killed anyone buddy, that means I’m safe. Well, unless you count killing it on stage. I’ve done that a million times.” Jerry laughs at his own joke.
Dexter: ….
Jerry: “Anyone ever tell you that you need to loosen up?”
Dexter: “No. I’m quite adept at pretending to be human.”
Jerry: “Meh, I get it. To be honest, I don’t actually care about other people at all. I wouldn’t go so far as to kill them.” Jerry holds up his hands. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Dexter: Grins. “No, there isn’t.”
Jerry: “Okay, so, thanks for the chat.” Slowly slides out of booth and tosses money on the table. “I think I’m gonna go now. I gotta be… somewhere. I’m not going to say ‘see you later’ because I have to tell you, I have absolutely no plans of ever talking to you again if I can help it.”
Dexter: “I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Stands and pulls a pair of leather gloves out of his back pocket, carefully pulling each one on and flexing his fingers. “Besides, I have plans of my own.”
Jerry: Watches Dexter paste a pleasant look on his face as he leaves the diner. “Man, that guy is really, really bizarre.” Realizes something and takes off after Dexter. “Hey! Wait up! I need to tell you about my neighbor, Newman. You might be interested in hearing about him. Now, to my knowledge, Newman hasn’t actually killed anyone, but the guy is so irritating…”
March 27, 2017
Mean Reviews… and other Monday Stuff
Every author gets them. JK Rowling got 71,000 one-stars for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Gone With the Wind received 20,000 of them as well. So it’s no surprise that little ol’ me has a few nasty reviews of my own. You’re not a real author until you’ve pissed a few people off, in my opinion.
In honor of all my negative reviews, I created this little video clip of me reading one of them for you. Enjoy!
http://heathercleighauthor.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/BadReviews2.mp4
October 28, 2016
F*cking Awkward Holiday Edition
Yay!
It’s that time of year. Weather gets cooler, leaves begin to fall, everything on earth become pumpkin spice scented or flavored, AND time for Holiday books.
To follow up the wildly successful, USA Today Bestselling F*cking Awkward, we are bringing you the F*cking Awkward Holiday Edition! 25 stories of pure holiday awkwardness.
25 Authors, Awkward Sex, Epic Cause
Holidays conjure up many thoughts – long, chilly nights snuggled up by the fire, bare feet tucked under the one you love. Some are hallmarks of summer, when your skin is warmed by more than the sun. There is the after-Thanksgiving dinner nightcap, and the feel of the smooth, sultry burn of whiskey warming your chest, rendering your limbs heavy. Or lazy kisses and wandering hands beneath your best dress on a romantic Valentine’s Day date.
But sometimes, Grandma gets boozed up and passes out at the table, your brother gets caught rubbing one out under the fireworks, your kids catch mommy kissing Santa (and not on the lips), your special new toy winds up in the wrong gift bag, a goat steals and wears your sexy new thong and watching the ball drop takes on a whole new meaning.
In other words, the holidays can be magical, but sometimes, they’re also just f*cking awkward.
Available October 31, 2016, it is available on exclusive iBooks preorder HERE, and wide on release day.
July 11, 2016
Inspiration- So much fun
I wanted to talk about inspiration. No, not inspiration for stories. The kind of inspiration I’d like to talk about is character inspiration. Why my characters look how they do, physically.
Like most authors, I have a picture in my head when I develop a character. Sometimes it’s complete fantasy, sometimes, they’re based on real life people, usually celebrities. I absolutely will not create a character based off of someone I know in real life, then put them in sex scenes. Yuk! Posing a friend or coworker “en flagrante delicto” with another person is not something I’m too keen to try.
For my newest release, Match Point, a M/M beach volleyball romance, I used two actual teammates on the pro tour, Sean Rosenthal and Jake Gibb, as Finn and Dex, respectively. Yes, I swapped the heights and made Finn taller than Dex, but otherwise, their personalities seem to fit.
Sean Rosenthal aka Finn Callahan
Jake Gibb aka Dexter Savage
Dex and Finn cozying up
Kissing on the court?
Dex finally gets his win.
To read more about these awesome players, click here.
June 4, 2016
One Year Free of the Dungeon
I can’t believe it. It’s been one year. 365 days since I quit my job as a pharmacist to write full time. Prior to that, I’d been doing the same job (for the most part) for 18 years. 6,570 days (plus leap years). Hopefully, I’ll never go back.
It was one of those careers that was fun… at first. I worked in a hospital, mostly in oncology. I treated cancer patients, helped with chemo protocols, oversaw the mixing of sterile IV poisons to kill cancer cells and hopefully not their hosts. It felt good. Worthwhile.
Then I moved to Atlanta. Because I didn’t know the area yet, my sister-in-law set me up with a grocery chain pharmacy job. I hated it, or more accurately, the people hated me. A northern girl in not so high income Georgia. I couldn’t understand most of what they said, they didn’t trust me further than they could throw me.
But I recovered. Found a job in home infusion. If you don’t know what that is, it’s when people are too sick to take pills for their disease, but not sick enough to be in the hospital. This job, I loved. We spoke to our patients by phone, talked to them about their side effects, and sometimes their personal lives. My coworkers were a blast and it was a very positive environment. But of course, all good things must end. Business exploded. More people were hired, but never quite enough. The pager we carried on nights and weekends, the one that never ever went off, became a regular annoyance. Working late, working every weekend without additional days off, non-stop crises over and over and over.
After the birth of my first child, I made the decision to leave. Loved the coworkers, loved my patients, hated the job. With a husband who traveled for work, how was a new mother supposed to go to work at eleven at night when the pager went off? Bring the baby? Thanks, no thanks.
That’s when I discovered the true hell of retail pharmacy. Oh, but at first, it was awesome. Lots of cheery coworkers. Happy customers. Time to discuss medication and illnesses. Then, the drug boom. Diabetes, high cholesterol, heart disease… the fattening of America led to the explosion of prescription drugs. No longer did you visit the pharmacy when you were sick, you visited it so you wouldn’t be sick. No one took just one pill, it was four, five, ten pills per day. Corporate got greedy, saw dollar signs. Cut back help. Instituted time monitoring equipment like the type at McDonalds that tracks how long a car sits at the drive thru. So you’re supposed to fill prescriptions with a gun to your head to make certain time limits, else you got a bad score. Bad score=lots of harassing by management. Add to that all the changes the government made to healthcare and prices went up. I was shouted at, berated, told I was the reason someone was going to die if they couldn’t buy their medicine.
It was too much.
At the very end, my once friendly, happy, smiling coworkers were a bunch of grumpy, bitching, snarling lunatics. Myself included. Thank GOD two years before I finally said to hell with this, I began writing books. It was on a lark. Just a challenge to myself to see if I could do it.
And what do you know, not only did I find something I loved to do, but that book became an Amazon best seller. Top 100, top 30 even. And the two after that. By the time I told my boss that I literally didn’t need to take his shit anymore, I had thirteen published books out.
Now and then I miss my career, but I know what I’m missing are the “good ‘ol days”. The camaraderie, the friendships, the smiles. Happy customers, grateful patients. But I know those days are gone. Companies want more prescriptions churned out with less help. I don’t want to be the one to make a fatal mistake while playing “beat the clock” with someone’s life.
Thanks but no thanks. I think I’ll stick to fantasy-land.
June 1, 2016
18 Amazon Gift Cards up for grabs
The authors of COPA are having a big giveaway! To enter, click HERE and follow the
Rafflecopter instructions. Easy, right?
GRAND PRIZE: 2 Winners will each receive a $100 Amazon Gift Card
SECOND PRIZE: 2 Winners will each receive $50 Amazon Gift Cards
THIRD PRIZE: 4 winners will each receive $25 Amazon Gift Cards
FOURTH PRIZE: 10 Winners will each receive a $5 Amazon Gift Card
