All the words, aka overheard at our house at 1am

So, the wife has been reading an FBI serial killer suspense first novel by a man who shall remain nameless. Not a romance author. She got the book via Bookbub (OMG Bookbub is a amazing). Anyhoo. She finished it last night, and was incoherent with fury.

Apparently there's a graphic sex scene with a virtual stranger 2/3 of the way though, completely out of character. Then at the end, the villain spends ten pages monologuing and the main character lets him, even though she's a savvy, genius IQ agent.

Wife was bitching about this, saying you could hear the self-indulgence, and I said, "Basically, this is the author wanking off to his own words."

The wife says, "Yes! Here are all my beautiful words. All the words. Look at all the words I know and the way I can put them together. Did you know I know all the words?" The rant came with much arm flailing reminiscent of vogue-ing.

Yeah. That's what happens sometimes. As writers, we get enamored of our own words. We get a real happy putting them together, and that sometimes comes at the expense of the story. We sometimes go the other way, too, stripping stories down until they're too spare, with not enough of the pretty turns of phrase.

This is where revision comes in. Betas. Editors.

This is also where standing up to an editor comes in. What if that completely gratuitous sex scene was suggested by an editor to broaden the readership of this thriller? Sometimes it's up to the author to say, "No, that's out of character. The love of her life, who she watched be horribly tortured and killed after she was viciously raped, only died six months ago."

We all hope we don't indulge ourselves too much and lead ourselves astray.

That doesn't keep us from wanting to use all the words!

XXOO

Julia

Apparitions- New From Changeling Press

Now out from Changeling Press!

I took a wee break in the dragon series, and I hope y'all love these boys! They were such fun to write.

Sean has no desire to find love again, not after a terrifying stalker incident ends with his lover, Thom, dead and haunting him as a ghost. Thom thinks Sean needs to start over, though, and places an ad for Sean to find a roommate.

What Sean gets is werewolf Elan, whose pack has sent him off to learn to live in the modern world. Thom doesn't scare Elan, and neither does the threat of a stalker. Sean can't help but admire Elan's brave nature and hot, fuzzy body. One taste of Elan's blood, and vampire Sean falls hard, but can they deal with an insane vampire and a jealous ghost, on top of being as different from each other as night and day?

Buy it here since it's on sale right now! Coming in a few weeks to ARE and Amazon.

And here's a wee bit to get you going!

“Hey, are you going out?”

Elan paused, glancing at Sean. “Well, I was gonna go jog since I slept the day away.” He raised a brow. “You need anything?”

“I was going to ask if you’d let me buy you supper.”

Now both of Elan’s eyebrows went up. “No shit? You can’t eat food, can you?” “Not a lot of it, no, but I feel as if I need to get to know you. I do like a nibble of a good pizza crust. There’s a place that does a lovely Neapolitan. They deliver.”

Huh. Elan studied Sean until the guy shifted from foot to foot. He didn’t know vamps got nerves. “Sure. I mean, if it’s not gonna be weird.”

“Not a bit. Eating is sensual. I enjoy watching.”

Now it was Elan’s turn to feel a flight of butterfly nerves in his belly, his cheeks flushing. “You like to watch?”

Sean snorted. “I prefer to act, but food is something I do miss.” “Gotcha.”

“What do you like on your pizza?” Sean asked. “Meat. The all meat.”

“Ah. This particular place has one called Noah’s Ark.”

Elan hooted, slapping his leg. “That’s hilarious. A large too much? That way I could have leftovers tomorrow.” Truth be told, he was starving. He hadn’t hunted much since he’d stopped sleeping in his truck, and he could only eat so much peanut butter. Sean couldn’t have picked a better time to ask.

“Not too much at all. Then I can have a crust without feeling guilty.”

“I’m good with that. You need me to call?” Elan thought he should do something, at least.

“No, I can order online.”

Yeah, Elan had noticed Sean was cyber-capable. “You have a nice setup, computer-wise.”

“I like to stay in touch with the outside world.”

“Me too.” Of course, Elan just went out of the house to do that.

“You can roll your eyes at me if you like.” Sean gave him a gentle smile. “I have my reasons, and sunshine is difficult.”

“Not impossible?” He really didn’t know a lot about vamp physiology. “Not if I cover up. Prolonged exposure might be fatal.”

“Ouch.” Had he rolled his eyes? Elan wasn’t sure. “Online ordering rocks. I do not mock.”

“I’ll be right back. There’s a bottle of red wine on the counter. Do you mind opening?” Sean moved to the computer, clicking and tapping.

Elan checked out the wine. Fancy. He’d bet it was a sixty-dollar bottle, at least. Elan wasn’t sure he’d ever had wine not out of a box. Hell, his wolf thought the shit was poisonous, thanks to the whole grape thing. Good thing his human side could stuff his wolf in a box to eat grapes, chocolate, all that stuff.

Pizza. A minefield of nightshades for your average lupine, but for his human self it was nirvana. His mouth watered, and Elan distracted himself with figuring out the corkscrew. He didn’t need to be drooling when Sean came back.

“There. All ordered.” Sean made him jump, sneaking up on him like that. Most people couldn’t, his hearing being that much better than a normal human’s.

“Cool. Wine. Do you have, uh, stuff to mix in?” “I do. I won’t ask you to donate, I promise.”

“Oh, if you really needed me to, I probably would. I mean, you’re not desperate.” He was babbling, so he cut himself off and poured a glass of wine. “You mind if I have one, too?”

XXOO

Julia

Freaky Friday

Fought a only this bad once a year migraine all day, so have some fun pics in lieu of writing

Be sure to check out the new releases tab at the top of the blog! I keep learning how to add pages.

XXOO

Julia

Linking up

If you look at the top of the blog, I added a page. Me. I added one. Now, Blogger makes it easy, but I had to do html for some of it, and I'm very proud. I am not website savvy. In fact, I am the only person I know who can't do basic code.

O.O

Still, I wanted to make it easier to get a hold of me, so I made a press and social media! Whee. Any suggestions are welcome for improving it.

Yay me!

XXOO

Julia

good things

good things this week. Subbed a new book at the end of the month.

Taking my girl to see Varakai on the 15th for our valentine

fixing to take a nap

working on a new paranormal

the soup in the crock pot smells good

Got over 100K words in Jan between me and my lady

Now, to have a tiny nap and maybe a wee cry

XXOO

Julia

re-visiting an old story

Decided last month to take a few stories that had suffered from "I own the company and have to fill a hole for someone who dropped out" syndrome and re-write them.

This week I jumped into a fun, kinky historical called the High Class Highwayman. It just... ended. Mid-story. I clearly ran out of time at 21K and had to put it out when I had to put it out.

So I wiped the pseudo ending and started at 20K. I might get a novel length piece out of it, and I couldn't be more tickled.

It's good. It will be so much better as a whole story. I can't wait to delve into the whos and whys and then get the story out there. Spanking, sex, highwaymen, master criminals and secret bastard sons.

Woot

I do love it when reading an old story gets me something good!

XXOO

Julia

Drive Your Truck is out today!

a long while back, my wife asked me to write a book based on the I Drive Your Truck video by Lee Brice. Click the song title to go watch.

Well, that book is out now! Like, today!

A 41000 word novella, it's a contemporary about small town cop Walt and Navy SEAL Garrison.

They meet at a funeral. Yep.

It's a little crass. It's definitely full of shit boys do. I love them, and I hope y'all do, too.

Here's a bit of it!

Chapter One

The funeral took two hours longer than Garrison Matthews had the patience to sit. The viewing made him want to chew his arm off, and the funeral service, with the color guard and honors and all, had him grinding his teeth. Oh, he did his part, wearing his dress uniform, standing and saluting at all the right times. They would take the body down to Las Animas later for burial, so there was no lowering the casket into the grave and all, for which Garrison was grateful.

He even teased Brandon’s fellow Talons about how Air Force sucked and Navy was so much better, blah-blah.

None of it made even the slightest dent in Garrison’s disbelief that his brother was dead.

He stared at the shiny black casket with the flag draped over it, knowing soon the flag would be removed so they could take the casket away. The color guard would fold the flag and hand it to Brandon’s widow, who Garrison was ashamed to admit he had just met today.

Crazy, how he could get compassionate leave for a funeral but not for a wedding. That said something about the damned military, for sure. He sighed, rolling his head on his neck. He’d been deployed for so long that Colorado seemed… shocking. Weirdly perfect and quiet.

Even when taps sounded for his brother’s salute.

He walked out to the cars with his family, hands loose at his side, his whole body numb, his brain spinning with all the things he didn’t get to say, all the things he never would now.

“You want to sit up front?”

Garrison looked at his dad, who looked old, the lines around his mouth and eyes dug in hard and deep. Brandon had gotten his eyes from Dad, though, the blue still bright, even though Dad was on the wrong side of fifty.

“Sure.” Garrison climbed into the front seat of the second car, next to the driver the funeral home had provided. Since there was no graveyard to go to, they had offered a funeral procession back to Kylie’s house, which felt small-town and bizarre. He would rather drive, but the family had to ride in the official cars, right? Brandon’s wife, Kylie, and her mom sat in the lead car, Kylie’s bright blonde head bent in sorrow for the loss of her husband and the father of her child….

Brandon’s wife was pregnant. The thought made bile rise in his throat, and Garrison swallowed convulsively against it.

“Do you get car sick?” the driver asked, eyeing him sideways when they pulled out.

“No. No, it’s just stuffy.”

“I’ll turn on the air.”

A blast of cold air hit him in the face, and the driver turned up the radio, the chatter of some talking head almost covering the sound of his mother’s quiet sobs.

Christ, he was going to explode before they ever got to the inevitable potluck supper.

The trip back to the house seemed endless with that stupid talk radio thing chattering on and on. It probably took ten minutes, but Garrison’s leg started jittering a few seconds into the ride, and by the time they parked he was rocking the car.

“Here, man,” Garrison said, handing the driver a twenty before he slid out of the car. He helped his mom out of the backseat, nodding at his dad.

“Are you coming in for the big feed, son?”

“As soon as I go change. Need to keep the uniform clean, huh?” He was staying at a hotel. His folks had sold the house years ago to buy a fifth wheel, so they’d driven back for the funeral.

“We’ll see you there, then.”

Garrison nodded, bending to kiss his mom’s pale cheek. Her lipstick, a bright pink, made her compressed lips look like tiny ribbons on her face. Her eyes were bloodshot, and he wanted to hug her, hold her tight, but he feared she might break. So he let her go and walked away, sliding into his rental SUV. He wanted to go take off his uniform and change into a decent pair of boots.

An hour later some lady he didn’t know let him into his sister-in-law’s house. Garrison knew it was Brandon’s house too, but he’d never been there, had never seen Brandon there, so it didn’t seem like his brother’s house. Not a trace of Brandon’s spirit lingered there, not for Garrison.

His folks stood just inside the living room, along with Kylie and Kylie’s mom, Sharon. He kissed cheeks and shook hands, but he didn’t know what to say, what to do. He wanted a cup of coffee and maybe a piece of bread or something. Surely there would be bread.

“I need to talk with you for a minute once it slows down,” Kylie told him, grabbing his sleeve.

Garrison stopped, staring down at her face, which he’d seen in countless pictures. Kylie had always stood next to Brandon in those photos, her pointy chin and mischievous green eyes making her look like a very feminine elf. Now she just looked tired, the half circles under her eyes etched deep and dark.

“Just holler when you’re ready,” he agreed, hoping whatever she might ask was something he could do. He still belonged to the Navy, and Colorado didn’t exactly have a port he could get himself reassigned to.

“Thanks.” She gave him a tired smile before turning back to greet a dour-looking woman who smelled like old lady perfume, all roses and alcohol.

He wandered into the dining room, where a neat row of casseroles and salads sat under the ugly chandelier. Brandon had told him about that chandelier, about how as soon as he got back from deployment he was going to change it for the one Brandon and Kylie had picked out at Home Depot. The stupid thing was sitting in the garage.

“What the hell is that smell?” The deep voice came from off to his right, and Garrison turned slightly to see a tall man with dark blond hair and clear green eyes, his skin tanned and scored with laugh lines.

Garrison sniffed, his nose wrinkling. “Uh. Cabbage? Smells like dirty gym socks.”

“In hell.” The guy grinned a little and held out a hand. “I’m Kylie’s brother, Walt.”

“Brandon’s brother. Garrison.”

Sympathy flashed in Walt’s eyes, the lines next to them crinkling up, but not with a smile. “I’m so sorry, man. Brandon was a good guy.”

Find it here! On sale for more than a dollar off!

Monday, Monday

spent the day doing tax work for the old version of TQ. Blah. I hate 1099s. Almost ready to print, though, so tonight I eat tater tots and sit on the couch to catch upp on CSI.

I subbed a bunch of stuff last week, and have a new Minerva Howe at beta, the sequel to Chosen Wolf. Can we say HOT? OMG y'all. So fun.

I need some caffeine and a shot of CSI

XXOO

Julia

Snippet of WIP for Snippet Saturday

A bit from my WIP for DSP

Okay, so this was when he wished he ate better. Oh, he wasn’t lumpy. No, he was too skinny, his ribs jutting out a bit. He forgot to eat, and God knew he used to scoff at people who said that. Then he’d done his intern years.

“Mmm.” Nate touched his skin, stroking his collarbones, then his nipples. “Pretty.”

The nipple thing made his toes curl. No one had every touched him there except maybe him when he bathed, and the sensation surprised him completely. His cock jerked, his hips pushing up.

“I know, right? So sensitive.” Nate plucked at them again, squeezing each bit of flesh between his thumbs and forefingers.

“Fuck!” He arched, his whole back lifting off the floor. “Nate.” There was no way he was gonna humiliate himself by coming from this, but God, it felt good.

“Not so fast,” Nate said, seeming to read his mind. “Need to get your jeans off, too.”

“Please.” Was he begging? Dusty was pretty sure he was begging.

Nate skittered back and undid the button on Dusty’s jeans, then began tugging them down. “Come on, Stubborn fucking cloth.”

Dusty tried to help, but he just got more tangled up, and he burst out laughing, nerves getting the better of him.

“Shh.” Nate kissed his mouth, the position awkward, but the contact perfect, calming Dusty down. “That’s it, man. Just breathe.”

“I’m trying. You know how much I’ve done this, right?” He held up a hand, fingers and thumb forming a round, the zero obvious.

“I know.” Nate paused, smiling at him, looking right into his eyes. “I’m fucking honored, man. I am.”

“Just be here with me, okay?” He touched Nate’s cheek, feeling the stubble there, rough at the end of the day

Copyright 2015 Julia Talbot XXOO

Julia

Freaky Friday

My F key is going out on this comp...

You have no idea how often you use your F key until you start to lose it.

Here's something freaky from our house.

Aaaaand here's a bear, since that's what I'm working on

Also, Drive Your Truck is up at Amazon or preorder!

XXOO

Julia

Writing in More than One Genre

I was following links recently, reading reviews of mine and my wife's books. I know, I know, never read reviews, even if they're not yours. Still, I was curious to see what people were saying, especially since the ones I was reading of mine were for an old book that had recently gotten some new attention.

One reader said, of a historical, that the book was fine, they just didn't like historicals.

Instead of getting hysterical, as I am wont to do, and screaming, "It's clearly marked as a historical! Why would you do that?" I got to thinking how this is what happens when you write more than one genre, in our out of romance. I write contemporary, paranormal, historical, western, and then drill down to m/m, f/f, menage and more. If you're a fan, you might buy a book just because it's me, (flattering!) and then find out you don't love the theme/genre.

Hey, it could be worse, I could be my wife, BA Tortuga, who gets accused of letting her best friend Sean write her books when she does BDSM, and who also writes non-romance horror O.O

What I'm saying is as a writer, I have to understand that a reader can read one of my contemporaries and love it, and grab the next book and go, ah man, that has spanking! Hated it.

This is what I get for writing in more than one genre, and I remind myself that I should be grateful for it. The ebook age has really allowed authors to explore what they love to write. Back in the day of the big six only, you often got pigeonholed into one genre, and if you switched, it was a huge career move.

Now it just leads to an occasional baffled reader, and that's okay. We all love what we love.

So, do you read in more than one genre? Will you follow an author to an unfamiliar one just because it's their book?

Thoughts?

XXOO

Julia

Don't wait for perfection

"If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word." (Margaret Atwood)

Yes. This. If I wait for my first draft to be perfect, a la Mozart, I will never publish anything. If I wait until every typo and comma splice is perfect, I'll be waiting forever. I want to get books out there, so I have to balance my need for all my books to be perfect with the ability to let go and just send them out to the world.

I was recently chastised in my no longer day job for sending an email that had one typo and one missed capital letter in it. The author who took me to task in a rather nasty manner for it said as a publisher I should communicate in a more professional manner, and that sloppiness made her worry that I did poor work. Now, to be fair to me, I was out of town, wanted to make sure she knew I had gotten her email, and slap-dashed a response from my iPhone. Did that make her wrong? No. As an author, words are my business, just as they were as a publisher. I should absolutely strive to be professional, and to put my best work out, whether it's a submission email, a manuscript, or a blog post.

However, we have to forgive ourselves if there's a typo or a mixed up there and their. (Ahhhh. One of my peeves.)

We also have to stop futzing with our work so our publishers can make a final copy. The line edit stage is not the time to add 40K. Not kidding. Don't do it.

Most of y'all probably know how I hide in November from the ubiquitous Nanowrimo. I do that monthly, maybe more if I'm on a lot of deadlines. I get tied of the endless word counts and freaking out and cheering. Ironically, though, it was Nanowrimo that taught me to write. Just write. Don't stop to edit, don't worry if things go off the rails. Fix it afterward. If you wait around for perfection, that book will never get done.

I embrace that now. Maybe a little too much if you listen to my editors. (smirk) But sometimes you have to go for it. So go for it. Love your imperfections. Then get a good beta reader who can stamp them out for you!

XXOO

Julia

my to do list hates me

I was supposed to post an excerpt to Drive Your Truck yesterday.

Instead I went to the foot doctor and got out of the walking boot O.O

Yay.

Boo for the to do list though. And boo for me not being able to find my final galley darn it.

So, here, have a hot dude.

XXOO

Juilia

Why is self-editing so hard?

Hey, y'all!

It's been a busy holiday season for me, not just as a person, but as a writer. I've been looking at edits, proofs, galleys, and marketing documents, and one thing has become painfully clear.

It's almost impossible to edit yourself and do it well.

I have to admit, one of the files had been through two beta readers, and it was still not up to what I want a MS to look like when I turn it in for submission.

So, why is self-editing so hard?

1- Objectivity- it's hard to be objective about your work. Come on, admit it. When we get even a super positive edit from someone we rant and rave about how the editor just didn't get what we meant! How dare they! Then, if we're professional, we suck it up and make changes. Still, it sucks, and that's why we can't do it ourselves. On the flip side of that coin, we can read it and fiddle and fiddle and make changes and never turn in the file. At some point, we have to stop making those changes and let the words go.

2- Distance- In the book industry, we rarely have time to really set a book aside for 3-4 months and then come back to it when we have distance. If we're trying to make even a partial living at this, we're writing to deadline. So, we never get enough distance to see the mistakes we make.

3- Familiarity- As writers, we know what we mean. We know our own words. We turn a blind eye to our bad habits. That's why they're bad habits, right? We overuse words and phrases. It's tough to edit them out when we love them.

So, what do we do to get past our lack of clarity about our own work?

Get beta readers. Good ones. If someone isn't a good one, well, you can be nice and let them read, but don't depend on them. If you're self publishing, put aside money to hire an editor freelance. If you can't afford that, then change the format. Seriously, make a PDF of the file and read that. We see different things in different formats.

Read it out loud. I especially espouse this with dialogue and with marketing materials. Blurbs. Read them aloud. If you stumble, change what you tripped over.

Put it away. Even if it's just for a week. Don't poke at it like a sore tooth. Go dancing. See a movie. Come back to it with fresh eyes.

Make notes as you write. Names. Hair color. The dog's name. Refer to this list on your read through. Do a search for hair and eyes and tall and such to make sure they're consistent for each character.

Finally, admit that sometimes we let embarrassing mistakes happen, and pass by us, and send that MS in. Self-editing can only take you so far. Even if it is so darned hard to figure out, you do the best you can and move on.

XXOO

Julia

catching up on the important stuff! Books!

Man, I am so far behind on promo. I know, I said promo and a lot of folks will tune out, and that's okay. It's a bombardment.

Still, I'm pretty proud of some of my recent accomplishments.

elemental ops 4, Vanished, is out at Changeling Press. It tells the story of Shannon, the team medic, and Gig, team techie. More dragons, more plot, hot, if awkward and silly, sex! I love my dragon boys, which is why I'll do an offshoot series this year starting with Chino, the one El Ops member who didn't find his dragon at Keon's compound.

Find it here at CP, and here at ARE. Also at Amazon now!

I have a couple of re-releases out from my self-pub imprint Turtlehat. Offerings is a historical Roman m/m and A Pirate's Paradise is a time travel pirate historical. Offerings is here at ARE and also at Amazon. Pirates is here on ARE!

Finally, I have a book up for preorder at Dreamspinner. Drive Your Truck is a 40000 ish word novela, one of the longest books I've written in about three years. I'm so proud of it. It's a contemporary about a cop and an ex-Navy Seal who hook up at a funeral. Seriously. Woo. There's a basset beagle mix, a pregnant sister and sister in law (she married the Seal's brother and the cop is her brother!) and all sorts of reckless behavior. It's out the 28th. Get in there get it now. http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5988

I think that catches me up! Woo.

Hugs all around

XXOO

Julia

Goals for 2015 Q1

I was going to goals for the year, but I gotta tell y'all, that paralyzed me. So, for first quarter, I need to get the Changeling story in this week, the RSP story in by the end of the month, the DSP release party done, and get through final proofing on Samhain...

Wow. I sound like a published author, huh?

Then? I need to get the dogs to the vet, get the dental insurance figured out, get to the DSP meetup in March, get my 10k steps every day, drink water...

You know, we put a lot of pressure on ourselves.

Five hundred years ago, I think people just wanted to make it to the next season and get their crops in or out or whatever. Now we create that kind of stress for ourselves artificially. Thumbs are not what set us apart, y'all. It's being unable to just sit still and stare all day or graze or what have you.

Grins. I want to make art, too. I have dolls and spoons and witches and clay and gourds and...

That's the fun part, huh? Making shit.

As BA would say, "It's what we do."

XXOO

Julia

Ch-ch-changes

Change is hard for me. I tend to be a control freak, and I plan years in advance. When I go on a trip, I spend weeks researching gluten free food and places to buy yarn. So when I'm not in charge, it makes me a little nuts.

My life is all about change this new year, and I can't sleep. My belly aches and I have terrible joint pain. I want my mom. (Sadly, she passed away years ago.)

On the good side, I have a huge amount of time to write, promo and make art. I love to make art, even if no one ever sees it.

Now, if I can just make it through April without all my hair falling out...

What kinds of changes are happening for you this year?

XXOO

Jullia

Happy New Year!

hugs to all

Cover art for drive your truck

Pre-order it here!

I'm a pre-order!

Drive Your Truck, available from Dreamspinner in January, is up for pre-order. It's 1.00 off right now, too!

Go get it!

preview of Cereus Rescue

Hey y'all

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.

"That's right."

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."

When?

"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.

"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."

XXOO

Julia

top ten things a decade of editing has taught me

Hey y'all

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.

XXOO

Julia

who gets a cold sore on their eyeball?

no kidding

Eyeball.

Stress, apparently. It amazes me, since I've never had a cold sore in my life.

So, what am I trying to de-stress?

I'm gonna sit and write.

XXOO

Julia

Peppermint, Cereus, and quitting my day job, again

So excited, y'all. I get to focus on only writing after the 1st of January. Most of y'all know (and if you don't, you live under a rock) that I've been doubling as publisher at Torquere Press since it opened in 2003. (Lord) Well, now I am stepping down and letting the corporation close, so my SIL Kristi can open a new version called Torquere Press LLC. The corp is not in trouble, btw, this is all just legal mumbo jumbo because of where we incorporated and where Kristi lives. She and her partner Joanna (no relation to me, as my Talbot is a randomly picked pseudonym and hers is real, thank you) have lots of great ideas, and I wish them all the best with TQ.

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!

XXOO

Julia

My Peppermint Twist comes out this week!

One old peppermint candy. A cracked tooth. Three of Santa's elves, one a dentist, two of them horny lumberjacks...

Yep. Seriously.

Check out the coming soon!

XXOO

Julia

Insomnia sucks

rec me a good read, y'all

Java Rocks

Hey y'all!

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.

Go find it here!

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.

Hugs

Julia

time to get back to life

Moving sucks up a lot of energy. Just sayin'.

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!

Julia

so, do I need to worry about someone bashing me with a bottle in a store?

Happy Halloween!

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

XXOO

Julia

Moving sucks

but! we're in the new house.

I feel like a bad blogger. You can tell when we closed on the new house, yeah? I haven't posted since then, really. we turn in the keys to the rental Monday, and I couldn't be happier.

XXOO y'all

Julia

Elusive sleep and silly words on the page

Insomnia has always been an issue for me. It's hormonal. Used to be the last three days before my period, but these days, at 44, my hormones are screwed, so for the two weeks between ovulation and period, I am a rampaging monster, all aches, pains, haywire nerve endings and throbbing veins in my legs. TMI, I know, but it's important to set the scene.

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?

XXOO

Julia

working on moving - or how a writer loses 2 weeks of writing time

Tuesday- closing 9:30 to almost noon because escrow officer was late

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

Upcoming

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

Pant. Pant.

Yikes

XXOO

Julia

BA Tortuga Talks about Say Something

Grins

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.

Official Blurb:

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:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5480

Where to find BA:

http://www.batortuga.com -- website

batortuga.blogspot.com – blog

@batortuga on twitter

https://www.facebook.com/batortuga

Excerpt:

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.

Labels in fiction, or why I hate the word Manlove

Okay, I know it might piss some folks off, and that's not my aim here. I want to say that upfront. I'm making a very personal statement about the label "manlove" as it applies to what I read and and write.

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!

XXOO

Julia

Georgia Knights excerpt

Hey y'all!

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.

Really.

"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.

Oh.

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.

Find it here! And Amazon and ARE!

A few tips for authors who are going the self-publishing route

Hey y'all

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.

O.o

o.O

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!

XXOO

Julia

Georgia Knights- New release- or how I finally got this book done!

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 were to get it

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.

A Snog for Sommer

Our friend and fellow writer Sommer Marsden is having a rough time, so this is for her!

http://smutforgood.co.uk/a-snog-for-sommer/

"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.

This one is from Full Moon Dating: Aiden and Ben, available here

XXOO

Julia

How we know things are meant to be, or the weirdest house buying thing

So, y'all now we've been looking for a house. Back in July, we thought we'd found our dream home. Way too big, and pretty old, but well worth the price, so we put in an offer.

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?

XXOO

Juiia

Centipede

No, not the video game.

The 6 inch monster under our kitchen island

O.O

Ick

Send help. Or a flamethrower

XXOO

Julia

Free Read: Inspiration, by Julia Talbot

Hey, y'all! Look what I found on the hard drive. This was written years ago for a now-defunct web newsletter and contest. It was under a different pen name back then because I was trying to diversify, but I thought it would be fun to toss it up here.

Inspiration

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.

“Eamon McClellan.”

“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.”

“Cool.”

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.

End

Copyright 2007 Julia Talbot (originally published electronically under another pen name)

XXOO

Julia

a writer's crisis of confidence, or how Julia can be a speshul snowflake

I have people tell me all the time I've been at this writing thing long enough that I should never have a crisis or faith. I am, to toot my own horn, regularly top ten bestseller on ARE and Amazon. I have won awards. I get very nice emails from fans, and I have a healthy presence on social media. In short (I know, too late) I am a decently successful ebook first author who makes a living off what I do, and I love it.

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...

Crickets chirping

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.

XXOO

Julia

Online communities and happy writers

I've had a lot of great discussions about the valuing art post I did, and I have to say, I love the online writing and reading community. Even when we disagree, we can have lively discussions. Oh, sure, all online communities have their nutballs, but I do love being able to talk writing and books and be the introvert I am.

Though if you tell my wife I'm the quiet, sweet one, she falls over laughing

XXOO

Julia

Just call me Sneezy

writing day! yay

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

XXOO

Julia

Valuing our work, or how romance writers get a little screwed

So, I was sitting at a reception at the UU church today, where I unexpectedly met a woman who runs a relatively well-known literary conference. She gets guests such as Gloria Steinem and Tracy Chevalier (Girl with the Pearl Earring). She handed me and BA card when she heard we were writers, but when we mentioned we were mostly e-published romance authors, the first thing out of her mouth was, "Oh, that .99 to 2.99 bundle crap? Or do you do anything high end?"

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?

XXOO

Julia

so tired

and freezing cold. I think my stress levels are just up too much and hormones are nuts

what does a girl have to do to get a sponsor?

I was playing around on Twitter with Jenny Trout, a writer I quite admire, who recently got a box of clothes from Modcloth, a wonderful retail site that carries all sorts of stuff, including the cutest plus sized dresses ever.

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?

XXOO

Julia

The Queen City and Julia or AAD in Charlotte

Hey y'all

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.

XXOO

Julia

I have to talk about all of the things!

okay, y'all.

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!

Dragons!

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!

My story, Faster Bobcat, is also available as a single here.

I'll have DB at Authors after dark, and Shannon, BA and Kiernan will all be there to sign!

XXOO

Julia

so much goodness going on

I love my life. I really do.

Now if I could just get my ankle to heal up

Meep

Have a picture of randomness

been drowning in paperwork

trying to buy a house

They took our offer, we're approved for the loan for now, and we're hoping to close in Sept. O.O

Meep

Hugs

Julia

Banner week! Midnight Rodeo release

y'all

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?

You can get it here!

Yay!

XXOO

Julia

Snippet Sunday

here's a bit from Elemental Ops 3, releasing in August from Changeling Press

A dragon.

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.

XXOO

Julia

Chosen Wolf release

So, my first Minerva Howe book is out!

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)

Find it here!

XXOO

Julia/Minerva

New Releases! Minerva Howe and Julia!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

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!

Find it here!

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.

XXOO

Julia

Who is Minerva Howe?

She's me. Julia. No worries about that.

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!

XXOO

Julia

Happy Independence Day

back to work

working on a f/f super short for Don't Feed the Alligators. A new m/m for Dreamspinner. A femdom for EC...

Not dead

We went on our honeymoon! 10 glorious days in Colorado. I will post pics this week.

XXOO

Julia

we interrupt Snippet Sunday

to say

We got married!

BA and Julia 06/15/2014

wordless wednesday