Monday, February 08, 2016
Tuesday, February 02, 2016
My wife was talking the other day about generational memory. About how her parents were 10-15 years younger than mine had been, even though she and I were the same age.
My dad was born in 1932. He stood in line with ration tickets for WW2 and was drafted at the end of Korea. He wore brown shoes in the army not black and his music was all from the late 1940s and early to mid 50s.
So my memories are colored by that. My wife can remember her mom wearing miniskirts and long hair, and her folks listening to 70s music. By the time the 70s came around, my parents were having their last baby not their first and they'd both stopped listening to pop music.
It's the difference between Mogen David concord wine, which my folks thought was the height of class, and wine in a box, which was BA's mom's wine of choice. Old English cheese spread. My dad loved it on celery. All of our juice glasses are made from the jars. We ate it at New Year's on saltines with pickles. BA's mom and dad both like block cheese cut up with grapes and maybe crackers on the side. My mom thought TV dinners rocked. I've never seen BA's folks eat one.
Every so often someone will tell me I'm old fashioned, even for someone my age. And I smile and nod and say yep. It's a family thing.
Saturday, January 30, 2016
The sequel is finally here!
A few years back, Kiernan Kelly, BA Tortuga and I put out Midnight Rodeo's first book, Homecoming. We recently republished that book on our own, and now we have the sequel, Midnight Rodeo: Belonging.
Look at this cover by the amazing Kris Norris!
Strangely enough, I'm not responsible for the tiger shifter on the cover. That's BA Tortuga. I wrote a cheetah shifter and a spirit guided rodeo rider named Raven Walkingman.
And here's a bit from my story, Light a Rocket. Special thanks to Jaymi for being our amazing editor.
“Rocket, you cannot keep this up, kid.” Thack, the head of all things in the arena, looked bitchy on the best of days, but the stock contractor was positively livid. The huge black horns curving over his head actually sort of pulsed. Cool. Terrifying, but cool.
“Keep what up?” Rocket went for innocent. It wasn’t his best look, but it was rare enough around these parts that he thought it could work.
“Kid, you weigh, what? Eighty pounds?”
“Stop it. I’m at least a buck and a ten-spot.” Pretty much.
“You can’t bulldog. You can’t do the timed events. Stop being a turd with a death wish. You rile up the stock.”
Rocket tried hard not to let his hurt show. Or his panic. He had to make some money. Had to. “I’m not trying to upset anyone. I’m bulking up, I promise.”
“Bulking… okay. Okay. You get one more chance, but the physics say it can’t work.”
“Physics say the girls can’t ride the barrels and they sure as shit do.”
“Mmm.” Thack was good at the noncommittal noise. “Well, just do me a favor and don’t get hurt.”
“Right. I’m on it. Totally.” Hell, he wasn’t sure his three broken ribs were ever going to recover. They did tend to stick out. Rocket was a cheetah shifter. Ribs were a thing.
“I’m serious. One more catastrophe on the timed events and I’m sending you to Eshelman.”
The shifter doc was… intense. Difficult, at best. Strict. Rocket just nodded, feeling like a bobble head doll.
He slunk passed the bullfighters, the scary as all fuck ghost riders, and then headed to his truck. He thought he was safely out of everyone’s way, which was naturally when he slammed right into a solid, lanky body.
“Whoa, kiddo. Watch where you’re putting those boots down.” Raven Walkingman caught his upper arms when he bounced.
Oh, God. God. That was— He’d just bumped into…
Right. Breathe. “Sorry.”
That bronze face split into a wide, white smile, the king of the Midnight Rodeo not seeming at all put out. “No problem. Rocket, right?”
“Yeah. Yes, sir. Rocket Ugara.” He held out his hand, the urge to sniff this man overwhelming. He panted a tiny bit, his usual reaction to stress more than a little embarrassing.
Walkingman shook his hand, making shivers run up his arm and down his back. Hello.
His kitty purred inside him, its tail lashing, and he had the urge to do his best sexy dance. Rocket fought that compunction, but he couldn’t cover it completely, obviously. Walkingman’s nose quivered, and he grinned wider.
“You riding tomorrow?” Rocket asked. He had to stop being an idiot. You didn’t come onto the most famous cowboy in their world. It didn’t happen.
“I am. What about you?” Walkingman let him go, the lack of touch such a disappointment.
“Gotta make my pennies, so yeah. Totally.”
“Well, watch those ribs. I was you, I’d sit out the bulldogging this week.”
“Yeah. Thack was pretty clear about that.” Still, he needed to get enough cash for gas to make it to the next event and pay his entry fees.
“Then why are you still doing it?” The man sounded genuinely curious.
“Same reason every broke-dick cowboy does it, I reckon.” And didn’t he feel about two inches tall admitting that?
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
I dutifully fill out what I will pimp, pin and pump during the week. I plan to blog 3 days a week with wordless posts in between. I pick subjects relating to my books but not actually mention them, which all the social media gurus say is important. Content! Original content with a hook! Do it NOOOOOW.
Then I open Blogger and write whatever the hell I feel like anyway. Not kidding.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
So, a few years ago, she finally got me to watch a marathon. The first 4 seasons or so. We were in a groove, and I was enjoying watching her watch the show, but we had to travel, and we never got back to the moment.
Tonight the X Files came back on for a 6 show mini-series. OMG y'all. My girl is excited, Geeking out. The football game running over almost killed her. She pouted at every evidence that Mulder and Scully were on the outs. She cheered when Skinner showed up. She bounced a lot.
I may not be an X Files geek, but I do love how my girl loves it.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
I've had some folks emailing me about some of my series, mainly Bloodrose and Full Moon Dating. They're no longer available on Torquere Press LLC or on Amazon because I have reverted all of my TQ LLC titles as of Saturday. I see my books are still up on All Romance Ebooks, but I am asking folks not to buy the Torquere titles at this time. My wife would like to ask the same, as she has also pulled her titles there.
I will be re-releasing both series asap. I'm very excited about taking these series to whole new levels. I gave up publishing over a year ago to write full time, and sad as it is I've now moved away from working with the company altogether. I used to write to fill holes in a production schedule, but now I can write these stories for the sake of the stories themselves and really explore the dynamics of how such long series fit together.
Change is always difficult, and sometimes it's downright sad. No matter what, I'm proud of my work and I want to find it the best home possible, whether it's self-publishing or going with another publisher to continue the series.
Feel free to email me if you have any questions about my books, and keep an eye out here for announcements about when specific books will re-release.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
They loved the book, hated the title, wanted something more indicative of a menage. They gave it to an editor, and she stripped out everything of Julia. By this time I'd been in the business ten years, but I needed that contract with a big publisher so I did the edits and gritted my teeth.
I did okay. Until I stopped getting paid. Checks stopped coming, and I waited patiently until I was under the sales threshold to ask for my rights back. I waited six more months. Next month I get the book back and Love Apples is back on. I can't wait to put me into the story once more and update it, maybe make it novel length and add in all the wolfpack and small town politics I wanted in it! Then I'll self pub that mother.
They still have Lovers of Her Dreams, but I'm working on that.
One down, one to go. How bout them apples?