Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Monday, December 29, 2014
Monday, December 15, 2014
Yep. Comes out on the 17th. Yay! Sorry for the delays. They are totally my fault along with BA's.
Here's a bit from Cereus Rescue
It was snowing. Like whoa. Like a lot. Etu sat at the window and stared at it.
Pretty snow. Lightening's heat warmed his back.
"It is. It makes it seem like we're all alone."
Etu and me. Etu and me. Lightning sounded so pleased.
Lightning had finally allowed him to close the door, so there was that at least.
Lightning's warm tongue licked along his ear and there was a wave of want.
"I know, bear. Some day."
"I wish I knew."
Lightning sighed, warm air blowing over his neck.
"I'm sorry, bear. I am."
No sorry for my Etu.
"I wish I was a bear."
You would be a beautiful bear.
"Thank you. I'd be a skinny one, for sure." He snuggled in.
Mine. More and more that thought was coming from Lightning.
Etu chuckled. "And you're mine."
Yes. Lightning pressed close, heavy against his back.
"Mmm." He sighed, so pleased. So happy.
Lightning's weight seemed to shift, his fur becoming softer.
"Love you, Lightning."
"Love you, Etu." The voice was deep, husky, rough as if from misuse.
He stilled. "Bear?" Could it be?
"Etu," Lightning repeated, and a hand slid along his arm. "You are soft."
"Oh, God. Please. Please say it's real." He leaned back, feeling skin, muscles, not fur.
"I'm real, Etu." Lightning's hand took his chin and turned his head.
Oh. Oh, his bear was a beautiful man.
"Oh, my bear." Pale and broad, with a chest full of white hair, Lightning looked like he was kissed by snow. The eyes, though, those were the same. Like dark little buttons.
"Etu..." Lightning leaned in, their lips pressing together.
Oh, he moaned and pushed into the kiss. He'd fought the urge to be erect around his bear, resisted the urge to rub, but it had been getting harder and harder lately.
Long arms wrapped around him, Lightning pulling him in close.
"You shifted for me. Thank you. Thank you, love."
"Wanted you." Lightning was so warm, even as a man.
"Yes." He reached out to touch the soft belly. Tell me it's okay.
Lightening pressed their lips back together again. Etu's fingers pressed flat against Lightning's belly. Lightning breathed, ab muscles flexing with it.
"So good." He moaned low, his palms aching.
"Because you're mine." The husky tone remained in Lightning's voice.
"Yes. Yes, I'm yours."
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
These are the top ten right now because they're all things I encountered in my last edit!
Put your name in your MS. Spell it right. Seriously
NO FORMATTING that the pub didn't ask for. No weird style sheets, macros, highlighting, etc. Just no.
Run spell check judiciously. Don't accept all the things it tells you to do. Check for extra spaces between words. Track changes can do that
Put your website and social media links in your bio! There's nothing worse than finding a new author you love in an anthology and having to dig to China to find their other books, or to see if they have any. Most readers will give up.
Read your blurb. Out loud. Make sure it makes sense, tells enough of the story to hook readers but not tell the whole story, and make sure it's free of errors.
Do a find for em dashes and ellipses. Eliminate half of both.
Try to work with the publisher you're working with at their pace. They all do things differently. Don't tell publisher X that publisher Y is better. Even if it's true. ;)
Don't use chapter headings that don't say "Chapter" in them. In the day of digital tagging at places ibooks etc, even cute and clever chapter headings like, "Dog's day in heaven" should be prefaced with Chapter Thirteen. That's how they get tagged in ebooks.
Do your research. Put your states in the right place. Make sure you CAN actually use that as lube.
Everyone has a different voice, so stick to your guns, but make sure you're defending your voice when you refuse an edit, and not just being defensive. This is the hardest one for me as a writer, and I'm finally learning to let go.
I'm sure there are scads more but that's enough for now. What have y'all learned during the editing process? From either side.
Monday, December 08, 2014
Wednesday, December 03, 2014
Now I can join RWA as a voting member, and join Rainbow Authors. I can write more and stress less. I can squeal about the new contract I signed with Samhain for a May release. MMF menage. Yum.
Also, my peppermint twist is out at Changeling Press. Strange Bedfellows has lumberjacks, a dentist, and pain reliever fueled sex. Woo. Snowflake, my logger elf, is based loosely on Kris Norris, the loudest Canadian I know, and a fab writer. Find it here on sale!
A lot of folks have been asking about the next Cereus book. I know it's been on the coming soon at TQ a few times, and as authors we tried, but two of us moved, and that horked the schedule. Not TQ'a fault at all. It will be out this month, and it's a doozy! Demons, weres, vamps. Yay!
I also have the 4th Elemental Ops book coming from Changeling late this month. I'll holler as soon as I have a coming soon link!
It's beginning to look like Christmas!
Monday, November 24, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
I have a new story out in the Hot Off the Press Anthology at Dreamspinner Press! In fact, I am the lead-off story. The stories all had to be about writing. So, I wrote a story about a writer who hates coffee doing research in a coffee shop. Jerrod is an adorable geek.
His soon to be lover? Hot, tattooed java house owner.
Here's a wee bit.
JERROD REDUS swirled his tepid tea in his mug, wishing for the fifth time in less than an hour that his protagonist drank tea. No, he had to write a damned coffee drinker, which he knew dick-all about. Not only was his main character a coffee drinker, he owned a coffee shop.
That stupid, simple fact meant that Jerrod had written himself into a corner, and he was going to have to do some damned research. He had a personal assistant. Someone to handle e-mails and read- throughs and scheduling appointments. Most of the time, though, Jerrod preferred to do his research by himself, for himself. Nothing beat experience for making something ring true in a book. Jerrod had done ride-alongs with EMTs and police, had interviewed FBI agents and politicians, and had gone surfing and mountain climbing. The problem was that he hated coffee. Sighing, he sat back in his chair and rested his head against the little neck roll. He’d bought the chair when his first novel had been hailed as a breakout success, when he’d realized he’d earned his advance. The poor thing looked a little shabby now, but he loved the soft leather and cushy seat too much to replace it.
He finally saved his doc, opened his e-mail, and shot off a request to his PA, Patty. “Need a work-along with a small, privately owned coffee shop, ASAP.” She would do the legwork for him, make all the arrangements. All he would have to do was show up and hold his breath so he didn’t have to smell the evil demon brew. Hopefully he’d get a good pastry out of the deal. He should have put that in his e-mail. So Jerrod sent another. “Make sure there are cookies and muffins.”
There. He grinned, rising so he could stretch out his back and neck. Joints cracked all over his body. Man, he needed to get out more, maybe do some hiking or something. When the writing flowed, he stayed in like a hermit, clacking away at his keyboard. He’d tried voice capture software, but he liked the connection to the words that typing gave him. He grabbed his mug again and headed to the kitchen of his condo, ready for something to settle him down for the evening. Chamomile didn’t do it for him; he liked hibiscus. Lowered his blood pressure, soothed his throat. He’d have that and an almond cookie before he took his shower. Jerrod liked his routine, liked to know what his schedule looked like weeks in advance.
His nerves jangled a bit when he thought about taking time out to do the research he had to do. The coffee shop looked to be as big a character as anything else in the book, damn it. He had to make it real, had to make people believe it. He listened to the kettle ramp up, bubbling, then whistling. His sister gave him electric kettles all the time, maybe once a year. He preferred his mom’s old stovetop model. Tradition. Habit. The scent of a fresh cup of tea settled his nerves. Coffee shop. Just for a few days. He could do this.
You can also get it in paperback!
Move is over, and I should be back on track here now! Hooray! I have many thoughts and feels and newses.
Tuesday, November 04, 2014
That's not why I haven't been posting lately, though. That was because of a stalkery happening that frankly, worried me. A lot. Anyone who thinks I have something to hide is flat out wrong, but to prove you know where I live and that you spend a good bit of free time stalking my social media to prove your conspiracy theories is really, really disturbing.
So, I've been hiding. Worrying it like a dog with a bone. Weighing the dangers to my safety against the danger to my career if I just go silent.
Then a good friend from long ago reminded me I've been here before. With a lot more dangerous folks. Remind me to tell y'all about my second roommate in Colorado sometime, y'all. THAT was scary. This? This is mostly annoying. Or as another good friend posted this am, don't let someone rent space inside your hear unless they're good people.
So, we're unpacked. Ideally, no one has the new address, which is good. Halloween was fab, with many miniature princesses and witches, along with a few superheroes and power rangers.
I have a new release coming up with Dreamspinner, a story called Java Rocks in the Hot Off the Press anthology. Find it here on pre-order!
Working on Minerva Howe's next book. Was supposed to have it done Oct 1. O.O Eek. But, it's doing well. So yay.
My brother comes tomorrow. Also eek. But the house is ready and I could use a day in Old Town. And a margarita.
XXOO, y'all. Don't let anyone get you down!
Friday, October 31, 2014
I had a horror story to post, but stalkers need to be fed and I won't do that. Suffice to say, if I end up bashed over the head with a bottle in a store, look to the Pacific Northwest. Just sayin'
we get to see how many kiddos we get at the new house tonight! Woo
I love candy
Friday, October 24, 2014
Tuesday, October 07, 2014
So, anyway, I can't sleep. I'm trying to write instead. Problem is, I can't make sense of anything. Nothing wants to be right when my brain knows it should be asleep. No one writes shit like, 'Twas brillig in the slithey toves" when they're high. They do it when they can't sleep. When you're high you think you're brilliant. When you're sleep deprived, you just want your fingers to work. Sigh.
Also, I want ice cream, and we have none. RR, New Mexico? Not a late night town. Groceries all close at 1am. Bah. BAH
Anyone want to play Scrabble?
Friday, October 03, 2014
On the plus side, I learned all about what our realtor used to do for a living, and about his inn in Espanola.
Wednesday - took load to house, paid bills, took load to house. Door guy. Bought paint. Turned water on
Thursday- painted new office, cleaned out nasty kitchen drawers, dismantled weird kitchen VCR and icky space saver can opener. Meet floor guy for estimate, met with exterminator
Friday- Tried to meet ADT but failed. Got groceries. Napped because otherwise I was going to die
Saturday- teach gluten free baking class, take 3 loads to house, second coat of paint in office
Sunday- PAINT ALL THE THINGS
Monday- Do non-writerly work. All of it. Now.
Tuesday: Try to write O.O Meet door guy for estimate
Wednesday- sit at new house and cool my heels while waiting for ADT guy at some point between 12-5pm
Thursday- Moving boxes and painting anything not done
Friday- prepare for yard sale. make signs. WRITE
Saturday- yard sale - Anyone want shoes size W 9 1/2 to 10- carlos santana boots, steve madden heels, steve madden boots, etc- hardly or never worn
Sunday- recover from yard sale
Monday- take loads of stuff to house to save ob movers whose estimate freaked us out
Tuesday- clean all the things for new appliances to arrive
Monday, September 29, 2014
Hey, y’all. I wanted to take over my wife’s (still incredibly cool, btw) blog and squeal about my new release, Say Something.
Sometimes you write something and it’s more than another story. Sometimes it burrows down into your soul and you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of information.
These boys are that for me.
Mike and Jenson were born in a rush. I was taking a few days off writing. I’d just finished writing The Terms of Release and I wasn’t ready to take on another intense pair.
I wasn’t ready, damn it, but the boys didn’t give a rat’s ass.
Kenny Chesney came on the radio, I started crying, and six months later, I stopped.
Mike and Jen are dear to me and now they’re y’all’s. Be good to them, huh? They deserve it.
Much love, y’all.
Say Something is out today from Dreamspinner Press and I’m proud enough to bust.
Jenson has loved Mike his whole life, but he has never known how to tell Mike how he feels. After high school Mike leaves for college and his Hollywood dream, while cowboy Jenson stays behind in their small East Texas hometown. Neither man knows what to say to go beyond friendship, even though they come together through all of the best and worst times of their lives. The most amazing moments keep bringing them back together, but through huge love and terrible loss, sickness and health, their timing never seems right to take their relationship to the next level. When the universe gives them one final chance, Jenson must overcome his fear and say the most important something before it's too late.
Paperback buy link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5481
Ebook buy link:
Where to find BA:
http://www.batortuga.com -- website
batortuga.blogspot.com – blog
@batortuga on twitter
He parked his old Chevy out on the maintenance road and watched the last rays of the sun go down. He pulled out the pack of smokes and tapped the end against his palm a few times before pulling off the plastic. He’d have one while he waited.
The humidity made everything lazy, even the mosquitos, and he couldn’t help but think that tomorrow he was going to be out here, just another redneck driving down gravel roads acting like that was something special, and Mike would be in his perfectly clean little Toyota with his boxes and his books, heading to the East Coast.
It wasn’t fucking fair.
Oh, not that Jenson wanted to go back East anywhere. What he wanted was Mike. The trip to the beach had given them some stolen kisses and a few quick gropes, but Jenson wanted more.
He wanted full-on naked. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to hear Mike beg for it. He knew Mike would.
The very thought made his dick hard in his jeans and made him curse when his cigarette burned his fingers.
He heard a husky chuckle. “You ever going to learn how to smoke, man?”
Jenson turned to see Mike wandering over, coming to sit next to him on the tailgate. On the wrong damned side.
“Scoot, man,” Mike said, and he did, because he was always willing to do for Mike.
“What’s up, Mike?”
“Been a long couple days. You?”
“Been trying to decide if I have to apply for jobs.” He sighed. “You all packed?”
“I am. Yeah. I wish you were coming. It looks like a kick-ass campus.” Mike took a smoke, lit it, and the flame shuddered in the wind.
“I ain’t smart like you.” What else could he say?
“I’m not all that. I just….” Mike shrugged. What was Mike going to say? That Mike had tried? Because that was the God’s honest truth. Mike fought for it, worked hard.
Jenson did too. It just didn’t matter. He wasn’t school material. He lit another cigarette, trying not to cough. Lord.
“You think you’ll stay at home?”
Like it mattered. Neither one of them could afford long-distance phone calls, and Jenson, well, shit, he wasn’t much of a letter writer. Maybe postcards, if he remembered to buy stamps.
Jenson nodded. “If they’ll let me. If not, I’ll try cowboying out with the C Bar.” Mr. Carlson ran a huge Beefmaster operation.
“Such a cowboy.” Not like Mike. He was gonna be something bigger than a shiftless drover.
“I don’t know what else to do. Be a drunk like my dad, I guess.” He laughed, trying not to sound so damned bitter.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
I hate the word Manlove. At its most harmless it seems relatively easy to understand. A construct, like bromance or manhug, used as a descriptive. People wield it to indicate male/male fiction in the same way they say I write m/m, pronounced em-em at conventions or to people on the bus who ask what people write when faced with a writer. For what it's worth, I also dislike the em-em phenomenon, as well, because it's a way of ducking the commitment to say I write gay.
Now, don't get me wrong. I understand the distinction people are trying to make. The long and rampaging argument about GLBT fiction versus gay romance versus women writing romance with two men has worn people down, and they see Manlove as a compromise, I think, one that removes the need for the bluster, one that finds commonality with other writers who pen the same kind of prose. I have more than once been told by readers that I write really average guys who don't seem gay so much as into this one man they've fallen for, which is absolutely fair. I like to explore all sots of relationships without stereotypes, I think. At least I hope that's where I land in the great scheme. I can happily point out a good many books I've written, though, where the characters identify as everything from in the closet to way out and flaming!
! Why then do I hate Manlove?
Because I think it's disingenuous, at best. At worst, it's like "girl on girl action" a phrase designed to delineate lesbian film/fiction/media from girls getting it on to titillate men. Saying I read and write Manlove is tantamount to admitting I'm willingly misappropriating someone's culture, that I'm co-opting part of the GLBTQ experience for my own use and discarding the rest. As someone who self-identifies as part of the queer community (a woman married to a woman, mostly bi on the sliding scale of sexuality) the whole idea of taking the LGBT out of gay romance makes me squirmy and uncomfortable. The idea, too, that readers want what one m/f author at a con recently called "Alpha-Alpha males" in their romance and that no gay man can provide that also makes me a little nuts. I know at least three gay men writing romance alongside all of us right now that would qualify as the kind of alpha males readers love to see.
I think that taking the LGBT out of the "m/m" romance equation widens the gap between detractors who say women shouldn't be writing gay romance rather than closes it. I think,very much like Emma Watson recently said so eloquently, gender (and I'll add in sexuality) should be a spectrum. It's okay for men to be sensitive. It's okay for women to be strong. And it's okay for gay men and lesbians and bisexuals to be represented in all sorts of different ways, rather than being pushed aside in favor of a fetish-ized fantasy of men on men or girl on girl action. The implication of Manlove just makes me grit my teeth before I shout, "You keep saying you support the gay community, so why isn't it okay to be gay? Why does it have to be Manlove?"
I'm eager to hear what y'all think. Feel free to discuss, but please keep it friendly!
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
How about some menage action?
"Alton has a place almost up to the falls," Caid whispered, breath hot on her neck.
"Okay." She sounded like a phone sex worker, all breathy and husky.
They packed up the pizza and headed out, Alton hustling them back to her little rental SUV. He didn't give either one of them time to think, either, just groped them both impartially.
"Alton, you're dangerous. Sit in the back seat."
"What? Why?" He pouted at her, but Caid punched his shoulder.
"Because no one can drive with you all over them, Alt. Get."
She gave in to her baser instincts and went up on tiptoe to kiss the corner of Alton's mouth. "I have to focus, huh?"
"Oh." Alton blinked, those pretty gray eyes bright. "Got it. I'll just sit in the back and..." He made an unmistakable motion with his hand.
She swatted him, chuckling. "Now, now. Don't pop too soon." She winked at Caid, offering him a quick kiss, too.
Caid surprised her with a kiss that curled her toes, capturing her mouth for a long moment before moving away. He went and sat in the passenger seat, staring, focused.
"Oh." Wow. Okay. Driving.
Driving would be good.
"Yeah. Turn left at the light, honey." Alton pointed before sliding into the backseat, his hand patting her ass on the way by.
"Georgia." She got moving, got behind the wheel and got them going. The windows were down, the wind cooling off her too-hot skin, even as the humidity made things a little sticky.
"Huh?" Both Alton and Caid said it, both of them staring at her.
Lord. It was like watching howler monkeys tilt their heads when they heard a whistle. They were never going to stop with the pet names. "Nothing. Left?"
"Left." The town they'd gone to was only fifteen minutes down the road or so from Haley Falls, which kind of boggled her high desert girl mind. Where she lived you had to drive two hours to get anywhere.
It got darker and darker as she drove, the trees thick. She started to worry -- what exactly was she doing? Heading into the woods with two men she didn't know?
"Okay, right here, sugar." Warm hands fell on her shoulders, Alton rubbing a little.
She slowed down, those thumbs working out the tension that had started building.
"It's okay, honey." What, did they both read minds? Caid was all about soothing her, too.
They parked in front of a simple, sweet-looking cabin, all of them breathing hard enough that the windows fogged up. The sound of hunting hounds made her jump a little. "Should we go in?"
"You bet. Come on in, folks." Alton led the way, the place a combination of historical log cabin and newer log home. The inside was just as much a mixture, with simple hooked rugs and a couple of fine art prints on the walls. That was about all she got to notice before Alton turned and grabbed her, though, spinning her for a kiss.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pushed up into the kiss, her body rubbing against Alt all the way. Caid moved up behind her, hands sliding around her waist, and his heavy heat pressed against her, somehow far more aggressive than she expected. It made her moan, found her hips rocking back and forth between them, caught in a perfect position.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Most of you know my alter ego, Lorna, is a publisher. I don't format the book files or create covers, but I do market, categorize, advertise, deal with distributors and write checks.
Today I was poking around the new releases on ARE and saw a couple of self-published books that had some great covers. So I clicked on one to see what it was about.
The blurb was very non-specific. The hero was mentioned, and he falls in love, but they never tell us with whom. (who? I hate who and whom)
So I looked for categories. Um. Nope. Romance general, uncategorized.
So, I thought, maybe tags. Nope. Nada.
Okay, so the second book seems to indicate that these are m/f, right? Maybe. The love interest's name is unisex. Mainly girls, but who knows?
Y'all, can I share something I've learned in 15 years of romance work and 20 of library circ work? People want to know what they're getting. That's why library cataloging was invented. To make it easy to find what people want, or need, to read. Tell me if it's m/f or m/m or menage. Tell me, since it's clearly dystopian in this case, if it's futuristic, or alt universe, or steampunk. Tell me if it's bdsm or vanilla. Hell, give me a flame rating! Fill out your whole meta data! I'm not even going to go read the sample if I have no idea if this is something I want to read.
I'll pass right by and go for a book with just as cool a cover that tells me, "You like what I'm about!"
Take the time, y'all. Tags are so important, and so are categories. Ponder them for a bit. You're not narrowing your readership, you're helping your readers find you.
Gotta say, they were neat covers, though!
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Georgia Knights is a mmf menage. I've been writing it, honestly, for years. For long enough that I had to go back in after beta and update some technology and such. Not kidding.
It took so long because I have a love hate relationship with menage. I love to write it, and read it if it's well done. A lot of my readers hate it, and are happy to tell me why. They don't want girl parts in their m/m. O.O Wide eyes. Okay. So, we're just gonna negate an entire gender. Or as Alton from Georgia Knights would say, why cut yourself off from half the people who could give you orgasms?
On the other side of the coin, I have people who tell me they like menage as long as the boys don't touch. Oh, my boys touch. They touch a lot. Have you met a man? If he's gonna do a threesome with another man, there will most likely be touching. Lalala.
So, I got discouraged. I put this one aside. I debated writing more menage for TQ, where my audience is mostly m/m readers. But darn it, I like putting the B in GLBTQ. So I pulled that sucker out and finished it.
The re-write process was fascinating on this one. I haven't pulled out such an old WIP in a long time, because I usually don't have time. Writing to deadline means new ideas that are flowing fast and furious, not a slow reworking of an old theme. The whole process was akin to visiting with my 39 year old self. (I am 44 now, do you can do math on how long I let this one sit). All of my old bad habits were there, but so was some of my former writing innocence, some of the lost oomph, if you will, where I made up new phrases and silliness just for the sheer joy of it.
I love this book, and am so proud I finally buckled down and got it out. Half of a writer's struggle is overcoming our nerves at how an audience will receive our work.
The other have is just that we have to be nuts to want to do this for a living.
Here;s the lovely cover
Here's the blurby
When anthropologist Georgia Cortez heads to rural Georgia from New Mexico, she’s on the trail of a juicy old legend. Haley Falls seems like just the place for old-time ghost stories and spooky hauntings, but she’s on the hunt for something far rarer, a survival of an old sect of medieval knights.
Caid and Alton are Haley Fall natives, and they used to be best friends. A falling out years ago ended in them not speaking, even after Alt left town and returned older, if not wiser. They unite when it comes to a nosy scholar like Georgia picking apart their heritage, and putting their whole town in danger. When boys meet girl, though, they decide wooing is far better than scaring the lady off, and they set about distracting Georgia in the best way.
While their three way romance heats up, so does the intrigue in Haley Falls, until the three of them are facing a danger far worse than falling in love with each other.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
"True." He backed up. "How did you hear about Full Moon Dating?"
"I'm on a shifters forum, and people were talking about it. I don't have the best luck with relationships, so I thought, how about something new?"
Relationships. How adorable was that? Wolves mated. That was why you didn't have any luck with someone who wasn't right for you if you were one of them. It was all chemical.
"I like it. I found it through a friend. I don't get much choice up my way."
"I bet." Aiden chewed the coffee off his bottom lip, and Ben wanted to do that for him, bite a little. Chew a little.
Maybe a lot. "I'm glad they sent you."
"Me too. You smell so good..." Aiden leaned in, nostrils flaring.
"Do I?" He carefully sat his coffee aside, then Aiden's. Then he yanked the man up over his lap to take the kiss he needed.
Aiden's groan was sharp, less surprised than needy, to be honest. The man wrapped around him, loving on him, and he took the kiss deeper, sealing their mouths together.
He kept his eyes open, staring as he watched every second, every expression on Aiden's face. The man was focused, tongue pushing against his, fighting with him. All he could do was push back, and that gave him the idea to press Aiden down on the couch, reversing their positions.
Aiden gave a sweet little squeak, holding him tight as he learned how that sweet body felt underneath him. Oh, yummy. He circled his hips, letting Aiden feel him. They were both into it -- hard and needing, bellies rubbing together.
He reached between them, frustrated as hell with the cloth keeping them apart. Ben needed to feel skin. Aiden's sweater came off easily, showing a sweet little belly, coppery curls just peeking from the low-slung jeans. He traced them to the button, popping those jeans open.
Short and thick, Aiden's prick fit right his hand, like a flame on his palm. Perfect. He rubbed up and down, the open zipper scratching him some.
"I... Oh." He got a wide-eyed look, a shocked gaze that was glazed with need.
"Uh-huh. You’ve been alone too long, honey." Pushing those jeans down some more, he rocked his hand back and forth.
Aiden's shoulders left the sofa cushions, eyes rolling back in an expression of pure fucking bliss. The man was starved for touch, for sensation, as the food proved. Sweet. Sensation, Ben could provide. He loved to touch, loved to mark beautiful skin.
What amazing fun they were going to have, the two of them.
He pulled back, and Aiden followed his hand when he let go. "Just let me get naked, honey."
"You've got amazing hands." Aiden helped him with his shirt, the touch feather-light.
"You think so? I'm glad you like them." He was, as he intended to use his hands on Aiden in a hundred different ways, and that was just tonight.
"I do." Aiden's fingertips brushed over his nipples, his ribs.
Ben stretched a little, showing off. He was long and lean, but he knew he looked good. He worked hard.
Aiden's lips joined his fingers, every touch too gentle, too careful, like Aiden was afraid to make him feel.
"You can bite a little, honey. I won't growl." Much.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Everything that could go wrong, did. The roof inspection went poorly. There were termites. Repairs were promised, lots of lies were told. The closing date went back and forth like a yo-yo. We tried hard, but in the end, we just had no confidence that the house wasn't a money pit of hidden damage, so we terminated the offer almost a week after all the repairs were due and not delivered upon.
That was a Thursday. We started looking at houses again on a Sunday, and we found one we really liked. Made an offer on Monday and bam. They accepted.
Now, how do we know house 2 will most likely close on the 30th as planned?
No one is lying. We have a full disclosure. The inspection is set for Monday with no objections from the owner.
And we're planning the space, looking obsessively at pics of the interior, placing our furniture.
The only plan we ever made for the first house was tentative paint colors. That's it. We never believed it, never got excited. Now, we're making lists and planning Two Men and a Truck and... Yeah. Woot.
Somehow things fall into place when they're meant to be.
How cool is that?
Monday, September 08, 2014
Saturday, September 06, 2014
By Julia Talbot
“Can you imagine? Some people just have no sense of self-control.”
Theo had been listening to the woman with the pierced nose and the hundreds of tiny braids for at least a half hour. She was going on and on about how her best friend liked to fuck outside, where people might see her, where she could feel grass under her feet.
“It takes all kinds, Jen,” the other girl said, and watching the purple Mohawk bob above her head, Theo kind of agreed.
He wasn’t much for sitting in coffee shops in the city. Theo only did it when he had to meet with his agent, who was worth chancing the traffic and the city dwellers for. Eamon not only sold Theo's art at a fucking premium, he was the most beautiful man Theo had ever met, with soot colored hair and bright green eyes. Not to mention the body that seemed sculpted by Michelangelo or someone.
“You have that look on your face,” Eamon said, as if thinking of him had magically conjured him up.
“Which look is that?” Theo asked, smiling and waving Eamon to a seat.
“The one that says, ‘I hate the city; it’s almost as entertaining as an ant farm'.”
Theo laughed, drawing looks from the black-clad denizens all around them, people frowning at the bright sound. “Anything for you, babe. Besides, I’ve been eavesdropping.”
“What have you been hearing?” Eamon waved to the little waiter, completely at ease with the setting, and with having a little drama queen sashay over and flirt with him.
“Outdoor fucking. You ever done it?” There, he thought. Let’s see how comfortable Eamon was with that.
“When I was in college? Sure. These days, grass in my ass just doesn’t appeal.”
Staring, Theo chuckled, sure Eamon was either lying or exaggerating. “No way. You?”
“Believe it or not, I went to school in the northwest. You don’t go there and not be outdoorsy.”
“No shit? Tell me about it?” He and Eamon had this great chemistry, but they’d never acted on it. Oh, they flirted. They teased. They got hard. But Theo had always thought they were just too different.
Those high, bottle-tanned cheekbones went red, Eamon glancing about before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “What? It was my sophomore year, I was on a hike. Shit, this sounds like Penthouse letters.”
“You know I take my inspiration from nature, honey,” Theo said, batting his lashes and feeling not quite ridiculous. “Lay it on me.”
“Shit.” Shifting in his chair, Eamon waited for the little waiter to set down his espresso and croissant before going on. “There wasn’t much to it. I mean, there was a hiking guide I had the serious hots for, so I got him to take me out along the river. Just me. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he was family, you know?”
Theo nodded, leaning his elbows on the table to get closer. He could almost smell the old growth forest and hear the rushing water.
“So I did all the obvious shit. I took my shirt off when it got hot. I rubbed against him every chance I got. I wiggled and flexed…”
“And what? He wasn’t interested?”
Eamon laughed, the sound low and intimate. “He was. I think he was just worried that I was jailbait.”
”So what did you do?”
“I finally just grabbed him. Kissed the sap right out of him. He didn’t need much more encouragement,” Eamon said, eyebrows going up and down.
Theo waited for more, poking Eamon when he trailed off. “So, what did you do?”
“Fuck, Theo. Do you want a blow by blow?”
“Yes.” Was he going to deny it? Hell, no. His cock was hard in his jeans, his hand twitching with the need to reach down and rub it.
“I sucked him off, okay? I wasn’t so good at it back then, but he didn’t seem to mind. I took his jeans off him and got down on my knees and sucked the Hell out of him.”
Somewhere from the vicinity of the pierced and painted girls there was an outraged gasp, but Theo paid it no mind. “Did he help you out, too?” he asked, having to clear his throat to get the words out.
“Yeah. He pulled me up and let me lean on him while he jacked me. I remember the sun coming down through the trees. We stood right next to the water, so the spray off the rocks cooled me off while he heated me up. He held me against his chest and stroked me off and I swear, I thought he was the strongest man in the whole fucking world.”
The words seemed to ring loud, even though Eamon whispered them, his eyes closing, long lashes shadowing his cheeks.
Jesus fuck, he was beautiful.
Theo squirmed, trying to find a comfortable place for his cock in his too-tight jeans.
“Okay, then. You really have done it outside, huh?”
“Uh-huh. Did I inspire you?” Wicked. That smile was purely wicked.
Adjusting himself, Theo got up and headed for the bathroom. “You did, honey. You surely did.”
Three weeks later, Theo stood back from his easel and stared at his most recent painting with a critical eye. Then he smiled. Yeah. Yeah, it was good.
The scene was a lot lighter than his usual work, a lot more… almost Impressionistic. Swirls of green and blue, with just the hint of two flesh tones in the center, the painting felt natural, sensual, drawing the eye right to the two figures who seemed to entwine.
It was everything he’d hoped it would be.
Theo grabbed his phone, smearing linseed oil on his cheek. The stupid thing rang and rang, making him dance a little with impatience. One he was ready to make a move, Theo hated to wait.
“Hey, Eamon. Theo. I have something new to show you.”
“Theo! Good to know. You going to bring it into the city for me to see?”
Staring at the canvas, Theo shook his head, feeling his cock start to harden, just like that. “No, Eamon. I think this time you need to come to the boondocks,” he said. “You need to see it in its natural setting.”
“Okay, man. I’ll come out this week.”
They hung up not long after that, and Theo pulled off his soft sweats, heading to the window seat to give himself a hand. With any luck, he could get Eamon to see that nature was still damned inspiring.
There was nothing like the great outdoors.
Copyright 2007 Julia Talbot (originally published electronically under another pen name)
Wednesday, September 03, 2014
And now, for the darkside. (duh duh duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)
I have terrible confidence issues, just like all writers. A writer friend, Shannon West, mentioned on social media today that 13K into her latest WIP she decided it sucked. That happens to all of us. So does rejection (my latest lesbian story, for example, was turned down after being in the running for over a month past the deadline). Then? My beta for said lesbian story's self pubbing adventure told me it would be nice to see some conflict among the fluff...
Julia picks her crushed-bug self up off the floor with a spatula.
On the heels of a review of the first Minerva Howe book on Amazon that said I was more boring than paint drying, and an editor telling me my erotic m/m story was, well, sweet but not hot, I may be developing a complex.
Now, does that keep me from doing my word count? Nope. It does, however, remind me that art is subjective, and that all artists, including authors, deal with putting their work out there in the world and occasionally getting beaten down for it. It's totally easy when things are going well to tell authors who are in a slump to pull their socks up and move on. It's another thing entirely when you're the stressed out, smooshed roadkill on the side of the publishing highway.
So, today I pull up ye old socks and take a good look at my lesbian story, do re-writes on a novel where the plot was so thin it was see-through, and work on the next Minerva Howe book despite the one crappy review. I may have the best job in the world, but it still requires a lot of practice and, you know, work. Even when I would rather be a speshul snowflake and go eat ice cream all day.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Though if you tell my wife I'm the quiet, sweet one, she falls over laughing
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Can't breathe, boo
Day off walking the dogs! Yay
Dogs very sad, boo
I like the new Dr Who, yay
I still haven't watched the Matt Smith seasons, boo
House is clean, yay!
Yard is a mess, boo
And now, for a random picture
Rocky Mountain National Park at the end of JUNE
Sunday, August 24, 2014
I get the .99 bundle. I really do. As an long-time ebook industry professional, I know that if you can offer the first book in a series, or a 20K short in an otherwise series full of novels, as part of a multi-author bundle, it will get a bunch of new folks exposed to your work. Hell, I buy bundles happily. For the reader they make the book budget stretch and allow us to try new authors with little commitment.
Still, I can't help but think of an old professor I had in college who doubled as an art and English professor. He often talked about devaluing art, about how people would exclaim, "My dog could do better work than this!" and about how damaging that statement was to the arts in general.
See, maybe the dog could do that. Maybe anyone with a PC and a Harlequin formula guide can write a romance.
The thing is, though, that it takes practice, persistence, and nerve to make art, literature, or music, whether classical or popular, and to share it with the world. So, we have to place a value on it.
Do I believe we should charge 15.99 for an ebook because that's what we charge for a paperback? Heck, no. But I do cringe when I see someone complain that they paid 1.99 for a lousy 5000 word story. Ouch. I mean, I wrote it. I didn't think it was lousy. Neither did the reader. They loved the story, but doesn't that author know they can get a bundle for .99?
So many people already question the validity of writing and reading romance. As a genre, we get the pats on the head, the sorrowful chin waggle. Our local indie bookstore here in Albuquerque has a mystery section. Horror, sci fi. Not romance, even though we account for fully a quarter of all books sold in the world every year.
So, I have to wonder. If we don't put a higher value on our genre, on our work, how will anyone else?
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Sunday, August 17, 2014
I was teasing her about having an official "designer", and said I needed to get a sponsorship from Old Navy, since I wear their yoga pants everywhere.
In all seriousness, y'all, this is a great idea. I warm to the topic. I wear their slub hoodies all winter long. The thin ones that you can wear as another layer, the ones that you can wear to bed and not be to hot. I wear their long, best fit tank tops every day under my other shirts to smooth out the bumps and lumps of my middle aged spread.
I love their holiday pig banks.
So, I think Old Navy should sponsor me since they do pride t-shirts every year and I'm a GLBT author.
My only other option really is Chocolove or something...
What do y'all think?
Friday, August 15, 2014
It has taken the better part of a week to recover from AAD. I did 6 panels, a bunch of parties, and a ball, all on a torn up ankle and about 4 hours of sleep a night. There was madness and rushing around and laughing like loon.
I can never list all the people I got to see and love on, but Kiernan Kelly, TC Blue, Bronwyn Green, Kris Norris, Jenny Trout, Elise Hepner and Joey w Hill were among the many authors who made the week amazing. Readers, I shout out to all, but Jackie had my glasses!
I presented at the Bookies and got to give an award to Desiree Holt. How cool is that?
No Bookies for me this year, but BA won best hero in a romance for Brett, from Alpha Call.
I thought Pride had the best tables at the Sins and Virtues ball thanks to Andrew Gray's decorating prowess. What do y'all think?
We had a blast, and there was so much swag. I got BA to get a signed copy of Joey Hill's Rough Canvas but the booksigning was so busy I didn't get to get up and buy books from anyone else.
Here's a few more pics.
Friday, August 01, 2014
I know all promo all the time is bad, but I have so much going on!
I have Authors After Dark in Charlotte, NC August 6th through the 10th. That's Wednesday night through Saturday. Wednesday I'll be hosting the opening party with Kiernan Kelly and BA Tortuga. That's at 4pm. We're all presenting at the Bookies Thursday night. I'm on a metric shit-ton of panels. On Saturday I'll be at the big booksigning, signing both Designated Bottoms and Midnight Rodeo. Come see me!
One-Eyed Jack's story is out at Changeling Press. The third elemental ops book is called Found, and it's all about analyst Lane and Ops second in command Jack. Find it here!
Oh, and Designated Bottoms is out this week! OMG y'all. Me, BA Tortuga, Kiernan Kelly, Shannon West, Katey Hawthorne and KC Wells. Seriously, it doesn't get better than this. Find it here!
Some men are bottoms by birth, others by choice. Whatever the reason, a designated bottom is someone who’s happy to surrender, to submit, or just catch instead of pitch!
I'll have DB at Authors after dark, and Shannon, BA and Kiernan will all be there to sign!
Monday, July 28, 2014
Monday, July 21, 2014
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
I have a book out with the wildly talented BA Tortuga and Kiernan Kelly
It's called Midnight Rodeo: Homecoming
Paranormal rodeo. OMG so neat.
Here's the official blurb
What happens when rodeos start to get too tough for humans to compete in? Midnight Rodeo, of course, where supernatural creatures like shifters and vampires work for the prize money, and for the awe of their audience.
In Welcome to the Pack by BA Tortuga, when head bullfighter Denton is killed by a demon bull, his twin, Denver, comes back to take his place. Denver was gone for years, working mundane rodeos and missing his twin. He’s not sure the pack can heal him since the other bullfighters challenge Denver at every turn. All except Blaine, who’s an outcast himself, and who knows Denver is like no one he’s ever met.
In Oklahoma Rain by Kiernan Kelly, psychic Blaze scouts locations for the rodeo company, Darque and Knight, where he finds another psychic talent, Zack, who’s hot as the Fourth of July. Zack is complicated, though, thanks to his sidekick, Mikey, a damaged kid. Blaze invites the pair back to the rodeo, but not everyone is as happy as Blaze to have them there.
In Big Bear, Little Bear, by Julia Talbot, bear shifter Ben is returning to the rodeo after a long injury recovery. Big bear shifter Ozzie is the barrel man and clown, and he’s been waiting for Ben to come back to the big show. But is Ben ready to ride again, let alone be the lover Ozzie is ready to take on?
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Jesu Cristo. What the hell was he gon’ do with an orange, high falutin’, female dragon.
Jacques looked at Serena, who had color back in her scales now that she and him, they’d bonded like they was supposed to. He smiled a little. He was gonna love her. That was what he’d do. After that, well, he had no idea.
Serena looked at him, rolled her eyes. Silly human.
“Well, I didn’t know dragons existed ‘til just these last days.”
She snorted, but she was pleased, he could tell. Her tail said so, the end flicking his ear. Crazy beast.
He glanced around, realizing the other dragons, and his team, had left them alone. Shit, how much time had passed? Hours? Days? His belly rumbled like Keon’s big dragon Damien was in there.
Her head tilted. Hungry?
“I am, cher. Starving.” He could eat an alligator.
Show you. Serena led the way, making oddly musical noises. Dragon humming.
Wednesday, July 09, 2014
That's my new hot BDSM nick, remember?
Out from Resplendence Publishing, it's Chosen Wolf
Brantley is perfectly happy with his life. He has a good job, a strong wolf pack behind him, and a trip into Denver every so often to take care of his needs. So when the Pack has the kind of meeting that only happens once in a blue moon, he's more annoyed than worried. At least until the meeting turns out to be the stuff of Pack legend, with a vampire appearing to choose a new guardian from all of the eligible male wolves.
Vampire Paul has a good arrangement with the Moonlight Mountain pack. He gets to choose a wolf as his guardian, and they get a draught of his blood to strengthen their line. His connection with Brant is immediate, and he knows Brantley will be the first guardian in maybe centuries who will match him need for need. Paul likes games of dominance, likes to put his guardians to the test. Brantley is pretty sure he doesn't even like men, let alone a vamp who's into whips and chains. Can Paul convince Brantley that they really are made for each other?
This is the first in a series, too, y'all! Make them want book two for me and go buy it? (grins)
I have two releases today. One is the newest in my Full Moon Dating. (Each book can be read on its own, but the first two are Aiden and Ben and Coy and Denver. The new one is Evgeny and Feng, and here's the cover!
And here's the blurby
Tiger shifter Evgeny worries that he’ll never find a lover who can stand up to his sheer size and strength. He’s scared off more than one man, which is why he turns to Harve and Stone at Full Moon Dating. He wants someone who can deal with his tiger self and not run away.
Acrobat and snow leopard Feng is all over Ev’s physicality. He’s used to working without a net, so he’s not afraid of anything Ev can dish out. Especially since Feng finds Ev far gentler than anyone would expect. They’re determined to make a two-city love affair work, so when Feng disappears, Ev will move heaven and earth to find him.
Stay tuned for all the info on Minerva Howe's release.
Tuesday, July 08, 2014
She's a bit harder edged when it comes to the sex. A bit less spanky and light, more whips and chains.
Minerva is my way of giving my readers a choice. If you see a Minerva release, it will have some serious sexy in it, with toys, bondage, that kind of thing. I've been asked more than once to let people know when a story of mine would go that way, and this is my chance!
Minerva was my gran's middle name. Howe was my wife's dad's mom's maiden name. Both of these ladies were pioneers, rebels, feminists, if you will. My gran was a flapper, she had erotica and vibrators in her house when she died at age 90. BA's gran was a slacks-wearing, fearless broad. I couldn't pick a better name for my sexier stuff.
Tomorrow is my first Minerva release from Resplendence Press. It's a m/m paranormal with a vampire and his chosen werewolf guardian. I'll post more tomorrow!
Wednesday, July 02, 2014
Monday, June 30, 2014
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Monday, June 09, 2014
And now, in lieu of content, have a hot guy
Also, Teamwork is out at ARE, Amazon and B&N
More dragons, more Elemental Ops action, more Keon and Ice
Better day tomorrow
Wednesday, June 04, 2014
When I was in high school I knew to get into the college I wanted, I had to have extra-curricular activities. So I joined the library club. No meetings, just solitary book shelving. When I was in college, I was more likely to be found at midnight with a chosen friend and a bottle of Mad Dog on a playground, talking deep shit or playing Dead Poet's Society.
Lest you think I am woe-is-meing, I love my life. I don't mind being an introvert.
Until it comes time to promote my books.
Ahhhh. Conventions rock, but they're exhausting. I see all these people blog touring and I think wow, go them. How do they have the energy? How do they meet all these people? Grins. Book promo can feel like you're walking uphill both ways to school in the snow. Wahhh.
Okay, that was a little woe-is-me. So how does an introvert learn to market? I try hard to Tweet or like or comment on at least one person I don't really know every day. I try to learn from authors I admire, authors who have this whole promo thing in the bag. I get my Gary Busey on and talk to things, some of which might be people. But mostly I try to write good books.
A good book will get other folks talking for you.
Sunday, June 01, 2014
July James aimed his powerful lens at the wolf cavorting in the water. Wolf reintroduction on Grand Mesa was going well, from what he could see. This guy was a huge, healthy male with a glossy gray and black coat. The wet tail waved furiously, the wolf jumping and playing in the cold creek, bouncing as if he was hunting in the snow.
God, that was adorable. July had come to the big flattop mountain in Western Colorado to photograph moose, which were also a successful reintroduction, but this wolf had caught his attention three days ago, and he’d been stalking the silly beast since then.
The only worrisome thing about the big gray was how solitary he seemed. Wolves ran in packs, so why was this one so alone? He didn’t seem to have any rabies symptoms, and God knew he looked healthy. Then again, he wasn’t wearing any kind of radio tag, so maybe he was a wandering male.
Still, the pictures were totally worth the extra time he’d have to spend camping so he could get his moose shots, too. There was something about this animal, something that drew him, made him want to fill a dozen memory cards with images.
He brought the camera around to another angle, his eye at the view instead of watching the digital screen. July froze then, because the wolf stopped its play and turned its head to stare at him, right at him, it seemed. Those golden eyes met his, steady and unafraid, and July felt a lot less like a professional photographer and more like a yummy chew toy for those few moments.
Backing off slowly, he packed his camera away, careful to keep one eye on the wolf. Then he moved carefully toward the main trail, which would have enough foot traffic during these summer months to deter the wolf from following him. His heart slammed against his ribcage. Damn, he was lucky this particular wolf wasn’t running with a pack and had only himself to protect and feed.
That had been entirely too close.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Oh, y'all. I have been in love with the Musketeers since I was a kid. D'Artangan can go hang himself, really. He's the least of them, to me. I love Athos with his angsty past, and Aramis with his Lord give me piety but not yet and Porthos with his utter lust for life. I love the literature, but I love the movies even more.
I love Oliver Reed as Athos and Richard Chamblerin as Aramis. My favorite Porthos is Gerard Depardieu, from the 1998 Man in the Iron Mask. I just found out about the 2011 version with Matthew Mcfayden as Athos. Trust me, I have a date with it. The worst D'Artangan is undoubtedly Gene Kelly, dancing his way through France.
I love buckling swashes. I love the clothes and the hair and the heaving boobies. I love that Richelieu has been played by actors as varied as Charlton Heston and Tim Curry. I love sword battles of epic proportions.
If you read any of my historicals, no matter the era, there's probably something of the Three in there. The story stands the test of time, after all.
What are some of y'all's favorite period pieces.
Anyhoo, go look at my website for some fun new stuff. And enter your email address at the bottom to join my newsletter. This month's giveaway is a 25.00 amazon gift card
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
I have some exciting stuff coming up! I know a lot of y'all think cowboys, smoke jumpers and shifters when you think Julia. A lot more of you have asked me to give you a little more warning when a Julia book is going to have BDSM in it. I love the genre, but have limited myself to mostly spanking and bondage because much more and it's not a julia book anymore, you know?
So I decided to give myself a new pseudonym to work with. I'll be promoting the books here and on my Julia twitter etc, but when you see Minerva Howe (Minerva was my gran's middle name, Howe is my father-in-law's mom's maiden name, which I love). I think both are appropriate, because both my grnadma and Ms. Howe were way ahead of their time, and in control of their sexuality. I admire that in a woman of any era.
So, with that in mind, I have my first contract as Minerva! Resplendence has accepted my book Chosen Wolf, a story about vampire Paul, who has a pact with a pack of werewolves. Each generation, Paul gets a new Guardian from the pack. In return, he gives some of his blood to the pack to make them stronger. Modern werewolves, though, aren't sure Paul even exists, and Brantley is certainly not going to give up his comfy life to be someone's wolfy bottom boy. Right?
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Don't forget to go get it! I'll remind you and put up a buy link asap( Edited: click here to buy!)
What's your favorite roleplaying/board/dice/card game. Heck, what's your favorite drinking game? Name one in the comments and win a chance at a free copy of my earlier gaming title, Under the Moon!
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Elemental Ops 2: Teamwork is out at Changeling Press. Did you know?|
Ice and Keon are working to protect their dragon charges, while Ice's elemental ops team shows up to help. Problems is, the guys keep bonding with the dragons!
Right now it's only available at Changeling, but they have all the formats and it's so easy to email stuff to your Kindle!
Coming this Wednesday from Torquere I have Dream Dice.
Thayer buys a set of gaming dice at comicon. He doesn't count on them being magical, or on them leading him to his very own barbarian, Erlich.
check it out on Wednesday at www.torquerepress.com. I'll put the cover up on Wednesday!
Friday, May 09, 2014
Wednesday, May 07, 2014
Love the skin you're in.
Partly I chose this because I write shifters. Lots of them. When I'm not writing shifters, I write a lot of people who wear a unifrom or a costume for a living, whether it's a cowboy or a cop or a military man or a BDSM club worker. All of these things translate to the skin you wear.
But I also chose this line because for the first time in years, I'm free to be happy in my own skin. I'm out to all my friends and family. I'm free to marry my girl and she can marry me. We're not beholdin' to anyone else but our dogs. I love my life.
So I couldn't think of better tagline for me.
Sunday, May 04, 2014
"Did you call your team?" Keon asked Ice, who sat next to him on the floor.
"Uh-huh. They're coming. You look like shit, baby." Those icy blue eyes moved over him, Ice obviously worried.
"I'm a little drained." He patted Ice's leg, listening to Damien rumble. His dragon was furious -- both because of the small army of soldiers waiting in the town at the base of the mountains for Sergei to return, which you know, tough to do after being reduced to a grease spot, and because someone had been in the keep, had tried to hurt the babies.
No one hurt his clutch. No one.
Ice tugged him up and stood, lifting him. "Come on, baby. Jeez, I don't even know where you sleep, really."
"No? What kind of boyfriend are you?" He had to tease. They were more like... dragon-bonded fuckbuddies. Right?
"Uh, well, up 'til now I've always been a sucky one. We'll see how it works with you." Ice's pale eyebrows gyrated. He pointed to the huge doorway that marked his rooms. The bed was huge and soft, the fireplace always blazing.
"Wow. Way nicer than Chi's little sleeping area." Ice put him down on the bed.
"I live here. You were an uninvited guest. Now we'll make sure you're comfortable, too."
"Gonna keep me?" Ice stripped off, reminding Keon that he'd faced the bad guy naked. That had to be macho on his part, right?
"Good deal." Ice grimaced. "My team might be pissed. We just lost one team member a few weeks ago. Now me, as well?"
"How many are coming and are they going to shoot me? I don't like that." It had happened a few times in his tenure as dragon guardian and it wasn't fun.
"No shooting allowed. There should be five. No, four. Spider is the one who left. Jacques, who we call One-Eyed Jack. He's a Cajun. Gig is the tech guy. Shannon is the big Irishman, and there's our surveillance guy, Chino."
"Is Ice your real name?" Had he slept with a man whose name he didn't know? No. No, they hadn't slept at all. They'd fucked.
"No." Ice shrugged. "We all have call signs. Mine is as much my name now as any, I guess."
That explained why little Chi had used that when he and Ice had bonded then. Whatever name Ice used for himself was the name baby dragon Chi would understand.
"My name is really just Keon, just like my father and my grandfather."
"No shit? I'm not named after anyone. I was three months old when someone dropped me off at a local Catholic church." Ice sounded so matter-of-fact.
"I was taken to learn how to take care of the babies at five, but life was different then." The middle of the nineteenth century had seen many children pressed into labor and he'd been lucky, blessed.
"I guess so. How have you lived so long, man? Not to be nosy, but, well, I am nosy."
"It's the dragons. They can't live without their bonded, so we live as long as they do. You'll live until Chi dies and he has hundreds of years left to him."
"Wow." Ice seemed to mull that over, chewing his lower lip. "What about Damien?"
"He's in his prime. We have at least six hundred good years before we start to get tired." And then they'd settle in, spend a near eternity quiet and lazy. Maybe he'd get fat.
"Holy shit." Ice blinked, vibrating a little, his skin going two shades paler. "That's... Seriously?"
"As far as I know, yes. I mean, accidents happen, but when the couple I replaced went to ground, they'd been active for nearly a millennium." Was that bad?
Ice grunted like he'd been hit. Huh. Maybe it was a lot to take in.
The boys are dragon guardians and elementals, and they have a ball protecting their charges.
Friday, May 02, 2014
Then I also have Elemental Ops: Teamwork, which I think might come out a week from today O.O -- Just saw it on the coming soon. I knew it was May but didn't know it was this next week.
Here's the cover for it.
Don't forget to go buy it next Friday. I'll remind you then! Teamwork is the sequel to Elemental Ops: Ice, which has elementals, dragons, and some hot lovin'. That one is here.
You can also find it on Amazon and ARE!
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
First off, I have to say that while Portland is lovely, it's wet. Really wet. I think my girl and I might the only folks on earth who got to the Pacific Northwest and went ahhhh, too green. Too many trees!
Still, we managed to get out and tourist a bit, which I'll revisit in a bit.
Anyhoodles, Friday morning we went to the opening talk with the owner and head editor of DSP. I'd never met either of them, and they're a hoot. Everyone knew who BA was, thanks to Terms of Release coming out a month or so ago. Me, though, no one could quite place. I have a short out with DSP, and a long novella in with their submissions, so I wanted to see what was what with their authors and staff. It was kinda funny, how people would look at my badge and frown, trying to place me.
Despite that, everyone was dear. Truly kind. The opening talks saw us sitting with Andrew Grey and Amy Lane, who I love to see, and who I missed meeting up with at Coastal Magic in Florida thanks to the big ice storm in Dallas. We got to hear about the ins and outs of the business side, which was fascinating, and then disaster struck in the form of a migraine for BA. It was off to the room for sleep and meds, so we missed the YA talk and such, but you can't predict a migraine, right?
The cocktail party was a total blast that night, though. Everyone but us dressed to the nines, though comfort was paramount it seemed. None of the corsets popped up that you see at big cons. Therefore, no boobs popped up. Ha!
The next day, Ariel Tachna and JP Barnaby talked social media and marketing. I got some great tips on how not to be a jerk, which I know I sometimes can be when I'm grumpy. Grins. Not kidding. The do not engage rule is a good one. I also learned a lot about blog hops.
That afternoon we skipped out and went on walking tour. Found chocolate and coffee and Mama Mia's trattoria. Yum. BA tried cioppino for the first time. I had scampi.
Spent a good bit of Sunday chatting with Devon Rhodes and Charley Descoteaux, which was fun! They went on to the Gay NW group meeting, while BA and I went back to Karam, a Lebanese place that had GF falafel and pita. Uhn.
Monday was spent at Powells. Y'all. A city block long bookstore. We bought so much we had to ship it home.
All in all, while I'm not sure it helped utz my book up any farther in the submissions queue (grins) I am pretty happy I got to hang with KC Wells, Andrew, Amy, Devon, Ariel, Charley, the awesome Serena Yates and many others. It was a good time, and I will definitely be thinking of Orlando in February!
Sunday, April 27, 2014
“Aleksy, I need you over at table four.”
Aleks glanced at his boss, who looked cool as a cucumber even though the damned air conditioning had gone out the day before and no one had been around to fix it. He supposed the heat made them all gleam a little more, made them look oiled and sexy.
He just hoped to hell he didn’t stink.
“Why’s that?” he asked. He had a gaggle of ladies at table six who wanted him to hang around for bottle service and musical grinding. They looked to be a huge tip, so he hated to abandon them.
“Special request.” Katia curled her lip at him, a hint of happy revenge in her expression. He had turned her down after she hired him, and while she’d taken it gracefully, she liked to put him in the most uncomfortable situations she could.
Hence taking him away from a great guaranteed tip and giving him to a private table that could only seat two, at best.
Sergy sighed, but nodded. He liked his job at Faster Bobcat, and he had no to lose it by being petulant. The place was classy and the ladies rarely got grabby hands. He made some of the best money in Vegas off the strip. His boss wasn’t bitchy, but she could be a little grumpy once in a while.
He dropped off the bottle and introduced Carlo, who would take his place at the table. “Sorry, ladies,” he replied to the good-natured chorus of negatives. “Duty calls. Carlo will take good care of you.”
Then he squared his shoulders, made sure his tiny shorts covered his junk, and headed for table four.
The shadowy form sitting in the deeply recessed booth resolved itself into a strikingly handsome man with shaggy black hair and bright green eyes. Dressed in an impeccable silk shirt and gabardine trousers, the long, well-made body made Aleksy’s belly tighten. Pretty.
His boss thought he’d turned her down because she wasn’t pretty enough or something, so she was punishing him with a male client. Thing was, Aleksy had turned her down because he was queer, so this wasn’t punishment at all.
copyright 2014 Julia Talbot
Friday, April 25, 2014
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
I'm very excited to have a bunch of my Bloodrose shorts re-release. They came out Wednesday last at Torquere, and I'm tickled pink to have them all in one neat volume.
When club Bloodrose first came to me, it was only a secondary character. Y'all who know me know I love to start a story in the middle. Whomp. Welcome to Oz, we left Kansas a whole tornado ago. I did that with the Werewolf Code. (Dude, y'all need to suggest a new cover for that one). I put in a little bit during TWC about how Deke and Kasey met at the Bloodrose, and about how it was during an auction.
Then Elisa Rolle told me I had to write the auction. So I did. That was An Itch to Scratch.
Now Jonny has a story and a spinoff that Sean Michael and BA Tortuga help with called Cereus.
I love this world, y'all.
The reprint book has all new content, too, an encounter between Jonah and Cady, who have been at the Rose for years.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
(copyright 2014 Julia Talbot)
“Your Highness, Mistress Serena is here to measure you for your robes of state.” Martha bustled over to her, fluttering slightly.
“Most excellent.” She had not seen Serena since the lady had moved into the palace, and while she loved her one new gown, the softness of the cloth left her even more unwilling to assume regular attire. She spent all of her time alone in the nude, waiting for Serena to make her another dress.
“Are you certain she isn’t a charlatan?” Martha fussed with this pleat and that ruffle of Althea’s gown, her face creased in a frown.
Althea slapped her hands away as gently as she could. “You see the quality of her cloth. See her in and leave us.”
“Yes, Highness.” Martha gave her a mutinous glare, but left her, leaving the door open just enough for Serena to slip through, a tailor’s bag in her hands.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness.” Serena dipped into a low curtsey.
Althea all but growled at her. “You know, up until a few moons ago, no one called me that. I was Princess Althea, which at least meant I knew someone knew my name.”
Serena stared at her for a long moment. “If her Highness gave permission, then in private, I might call her by name.”
“Yes.” Althea lit up with happiness at the idea. “My name is Althea.”
“Althea. Take your dress off, Althea, so I can measure you.”
“I—“ She faltered. “Latch the door first?”
Serena raised a brow. “Surely any number of courtiers have seen you in your shift. I did, the first time I came here.”
Her cheeks heated, the flush traveling all the way to her breasts, heat prickling under Serena’s fabric. “I am not wearing one. They feel rough and awful after the touch of your cloth.”
“Ah.” Serena’s lashes lowered, but her lips curved into a smile she could not hide. “I often feel the same.” Moving quickly, Serena went to latch the door. “Your guards will not try to break in, I hope.”
“Not unless I call for them.”
“Then I will give you no reason to. Here, let me help you.” Swift, sure hands lifted the dress away from Althea’s body, and she shivered, her bare nipples drawing up from the cold draft in the room.
Althea fought crossing her arms over her body. She had no reason to feel shame; she was well-made, with womanly breasts and hips, her thighs round and strong.
Serena stepped back to stare at her, lips pursed, arms crossed under her breasts. “Mmm. Lovely. I have a new weaving almost completed, and I cannot wait to tailor it to you.”
“Will it appear purple, like the robes of state?”
“It will.” From her bag Serena pulled a roll of twine with markings placed in ink along its length. “Raise your arms.”
Spreading her feet a touch for balance, Althea lifted her arms over her head, feeling brazen.
“You have a wonderful form, lady. Far fairer than my last patron, God rest her soul.”
“Oh, she was nearly eighty. Now, let me just—“ Serena leaned close to wrap the twine around her back, cheek brushing hers a moment.
Breath caught her chest, Althea froze in place, like a small animal caught by a predator’s gaze. Their breasts pressed together, and the tips of hers grew harder, pushing out, the skin puckering up.
“Your pardon, Althea.” Serena sounded breathless, as if she were exerting herself.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Lizzie T. Leaf
Denise Grover Swank