Silly love songs

do y'all have a favorite love song?

I will no doubt date myself when I say I used to love Air Supply. Lost in Love in particular. Blake Shelton's Austin makes me smile. Lost love? Everywhere by Tim McGraw.

What are y'all's?

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Julia

I had issues...

I was going to write about all sorts of things going on in the romance world today.

Then I realized I was stressing myself out and giving a lot of people more power over me, and over the romance genre in general, than they deserved.

Focus on the positive or you get stress cold sores on your eyeball again. Not kidding. The wife is having a terrible arthritis flare from stress, barely able to move. Why let silly kerfuffles make it worse?

So, on the good side, congratulations to m/m writers Amy Lane and Heidi Cullinan on their RITA nominations. A huge step forward for all of us. I remember my first RT in 2005, when people would look at my bookcovers and literally run. This is an amazing thing, y'all

Also, we have tulips! Volunteers from before we moved in. Red and proud and very New Mexico looking somehow.

Almost done with my kilt short, hopefully for TQ's anthology. These boys have fought me every step of the way, wanting a slow build you can't allow in a short story. I love them, but man I want to whack them.

The sun is shining, the bassets are singing, and I have muffins in the oven. Not a bad deal at all.

XXOO

Julia

What happened to Monday?

Oh, I know. Minor toe surgery. If you never have to have a nasty callus removed, feel lucky. They just take a scalpel and hack at your foot. Eurgh

On the good side, I got 2K words yesterday. That might not seem like much, but it was a tough day and getting back into the swing has been hard since Florida and Daddy and all.

On the bad side, temporarily back in the boot until the foot heals. Only wearing shoes when I drive.

Love writing bear shifters

Hell, I love all shifters

Also on the good side, got a date for the next Minerva Howe release from Resplendence. April 22

Woot

XXOO

Julia

Dr Who on a wet, blustery day

I love the library episodes.

Love Forest of the Dead, especially. River Song makes me happy. Sppoooilers.

I also love how these episodes show us that the Doctor has a lot he can still learn. I love that, when a character grows, when he proves he has to face that he doesn't have all the answers and might need help.

Then there's the finger snap.

And 10 isn't even mt favorite Doctor

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Julia

Wordless Wednesday

Career uncertainty happens even with the old guard

I recently had a contemporary novella published with Dreamspinner. Drive Your Truck, if anyone is interested. I was so proud. I thought it was realistic instead of schmoopy, maybe a little gritty, but it really hearkened back to my early days in M/M before the paranormals, but with modern themes, and with all the attendant shit that happens in a modern gay relationship. I pulled back from erotic romance with it, too, as all of my DSP author friends said DSP was less about the sex. Now, I have no idea what the sales look like, but it was a bestseller on DSP for a few weeks. It was my first title on ARE not to hit the top 40 in maybe three years. The Goodreads folks HATED it. Grins.

I am not looking for sympathy. This is where I launch into career doubt and how it affects the writer.

Me to my wife BA: OMG do you think I made a huge mistake? I'm writing another contemporary, I have 18K already. What if they don't take it?

BA: Shut up. It did fine.

Me: But they hate it! What if it kills my sales on the next book and and and

BA: You have to write what you like. I wrote a YA lesbian softball story that no one but the publisher read

Me: But I wrote a historical menage femmedom as my next book. What's the market for that? Ahhhhh (much hair tearing and blinking commences)

BA: Shut up and write

Me: Gotcha

Now, I could go into branding, and how for the last few years I've been doing mostly paranormal and mostly 20K and under and how expectation for a known author like my 4 star reviewed Elemental Ops stuff versus a new audience like I have with DSP does impact sales and reviews, but I thought y'all might like to see what the thought process really looks like O.O

Even those of us who have been around since the time of the dinos wonder if we've totally lost our minds sometimes.

But we still have to keep on swimming

XXOO

Julia

my girl comes home today

her daddy is better, and has a long recovery ahead. So ready to see my lady

That is all

XXOO

Julia

Alone gives me too much time to think

My girl had to go to Texas to see her daddy. I've been sitting on the couch with the dogs watching Tiny House Nation, and I keep thinking...

Am I the only person on earth who has no desire to "entertain" in my home?

I mean, all of these people are going on about "I just can't see me entertaining here", and I'm like, O.o.

Sure, when the holidays rolled around in Texas, we built buffets, and they did come. But that was still about pulling a TV tray up to the couch. The most leaves we've ever managed to put in the table is one, no matter the size of the dining room.

We'd have folks over in the 1400 square foot house or the 900 Sq ft condo. They'd sit on the couch or the floor and watch football or movies or whatever. I think that qualifies as more of hanging out than entertaining.

So, does anyone really do that thing they mean on HGTV? I'm not judging. I'm just curious.

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Julia

Dreamspinner Author Meet recap 2015

So, we went to Florida for a week. We being me, my wife BA and our friend Sean Michael.

We spent the first 3 days at Disneyworld at the Port Orleans Riverside. Next time I think we'd stay at the Port Orleans French Quarter, as that's where the gluten free beignets live. You heard me, people. GF beignets. The food could be just okay, as we were on a meal plan, but let me tell you, the meal plan is worth it. And the GF fish and chips at Cooke's in Downtown Disney was downright ecstatic. I wish I had pics, but somehow I just didn't take too many. I blame Sean's privacy paranoia.

Grins

Here's BA in the Magic Kingdom with Pooh. Or was that Epcot?

BA is short, no?

Here am I at the end of the weekend. Yeah.

The meetup would have been perfect had it not been for the news that BA's daddy was very ill. While her sister told her there was nothing she could do being there in person that she couldn't do on the phone, that made for huge stress. I came down with the con crud, too, sore throat, sniffles, cough. Urgh.

I got to see Kiernan Kelly, TC Blue, KC Wells, Andrew Grey and a host of old friends, as well as meet new ones like KC Burn and staff members Tammy and Erica.

The best thing was Poppy Dennison's social media talk. The most head pounding was the speed dating with the staff. So loud! Sadly I missed Damon Suede's workshop, but I did get Damon hugs, so it's all good. I put up a word goal, and Andrew Grey was skeptical. I'll show him! Ha :D and I hope to get to go back next year :D

Hugs to all I may have missed and all I miss already.

XXOO

Julia

the week in review

Disney was awesome.

The rest of the week's awesome was tempered by BA's daddy having a stroke.

Awesome> Kiernan Kelly, TC Blue, Sean Michael, and all the amazing people here at the DSP meet.

Sorry about the lack of posts

XXOO

Julia

Monday travels

Spending today traveling to Orlandoo to go to the Dreamspinner author meet.

Sean Michael, BA and I are going to Disney for a few days ahead of time. Kiernan Kelly has promised to do Epcot with us.

Thank God for the house sitter.

Downtown Disney had GF fish and chips. OMG

Expect many goofy instagram posts

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Julia

Setting the record straight

Dear Curious:

Turtlehat Creatives is a self-publishing venture for BA Tortuga, Julia Talbot, and some of our other writing names, like BA's horror/gen pseudo Dallas Coleman and my kinky one, Minerva Howe. Mostly we intend to do reprints that need some new life or just never fit in with the publisher we put them out with, a la the menage stuff.

This is where I set the record straight, people. I am no longer a publisher. Why? Not because I can't be one, but because I DON"T WANT TO ANYMORE. I don't like spending hours hunched over royalty reports. I don't like being responsible for 200 other people's typos. I became a publisher because no one else was publishing what I wrote. That was 2003, people. In case no one has noticed, Harlequin is now doing menage and M/M. I would much rather give someone half the profits and let them do my editing and promoting.

I've been very clear about Turtlehat being a self-publishing concern. Turtle for Tortuga. Hat for me, whose logo used to be a big pink sun hat. Soon we intend to use that name to sell art on Etsy, too. Just in case anyone was even more curious about how we want to spend our time post publishing retirement.

Life is strange, y'all. Do we have to make it stranger by tilting at windmills that don't exist?

XXOO

Love,

Julia

betas are nerve wracking

I always think betas are more nerve-wracking than edits. My editor gets paid to tell me what's wrong, what's right. But my beta readers, in general are family, friends, and fellow authors. I worry that they'll hate my story. I worry that they'll tell me what's wrong and I won't be able to fix it. I want to know what they think RIGHT NOW.

Yeah, can you tell my femme dom is at beta?

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Julia

need to blog- top five reasons not to

5- I'm tired

4-I'm lazy

3- I want more dump cake

2-The dog doesn't want me to type

1-I'm too busy watching the Voice

Y'all go read a book instead, huh?

One of mine

XXOO

Julia

new flash fiction from Minerva Howe - my kinky side

Some original flash fiction for y'all

“Stop it. You stop it right now!” Brant felt laughter bubbling up in his chest, but he kept the smile off his face. Paul was stalking him, threatening him with a spanking, and Brant was trying to egg him on, not dissolve into chuckles.

Pretty tough, considering Paul was wearing a robe emblazoned with the coyote and roadrunner from the old cartoons and a pair of wolf slippers, both gifts from Brant. God, he loved giving his so dignified lover some very strange clothes. Paul wore every crazed outfit, too, showing off for him, proving his gifts had value.

Still, it was hard to take his andoni seriously when he resembled an escapee from Looney Tunes.

Paul growled, the vampire sound completely different from a wolf noise. “No stopping me, dabi. Your ass is mine tonight.”

“It’s yours every night.” Brant ducked around the sofa, skidding on the glossy hardwood floor of Paul’s cabin mansion. He raced around the big table in the entry hall, heading for the media room down the hall.

“Yes, and I wish to warm it with my hand.”

When Brant looked back the robe was flying, Paul shrugging out of it as he watched to let it ride the air like a magic carpet. The slippers went next, and Paul was naked. A pure, leanly muscled, apex predator. A thrill rushed up his spine, and Brant turned at the next hall, putting on a burst of speed to get them to the playroom.

Might as well be comfy. If Paul caught him in the hall, his ass wasn’t the only thing that would be raw. His elbows and knees would suffer, too.

The doorway taunted him when Paul caught him two feet from it, tackling him to the floor.

“Asshole! Let me go.” He loved fighting. Brant had fought Paul for real to begin with, and fought his inner wolf when the stupid animal declared Paul his mate. Now Brant fought because the struggle excited him, aroused him, and made Paul work just a little harder for what was his.

“No. I want to feed, dabi.”

His cock jerked, making it even more difficult to crawl away. Brant inched along until he dragged them into the playroom. “I don’t want that,” Brant lied, wiggling and kicking.

Paul laughed, the sound utterly confident. “You are so hard. I can smell how close the thought make you to coming, my love.”

“Shut up.” Brant growled the words, his ass cheeks clenching. He wanted Paul’s hands, wanted those fangs sliding into a vein. God, he wanted everything. So greedy.

“I hear your thoughts, dabi. You want me as much as I want you.”

Yes. So true. He wanted everything Paul could give him. Rolling to his back, he reached for Paul, wanting the press of that pale skin against his, the long, heavy cock.

Paul gave him what he wanted, sliding down to cover him. “I love when you run, dabi. You know that.”

“I know. Just as you love it when I give in.” He rolled up as far as he could, begging a kiss.

Paul gave it to him, taking his mouth, tongue pushing in. Those blade-sharp fangs slid against his lower lip, drawing blood. He bucked, his hips rolling, his cock pressing against Paul’s lower belly. They moved together, and Brant clung to Paul’s shoulders.

“Going to bite you now, my dabi. I want you to come for me when I do. Do you understand?”

Brant nodded, knowing this would just be the beginning. They were in the magical playroom Paul had constructed; they had all night.

He threw his head back, offering his throat, and Paul struck with lightning quickness, fangs punching through his skin. Brant screamed, the sound morphing into a howl, his muscles seizing up when he shot against Paul’s skin.

Paul moaned, easing back until he was just feeding idly, licking at Brant’s skin. Paul’s cock never eased a moment, and Brant knew it would be inside him soon, and he smiled up at the ceiling, so ready to see what the night held.

As long as Paul didn’t put that silly robe back on.

***

Paul and Brant are featured in Chosen Wolf, my first Minerva Howe release from Resplendence Press. I just turned in the sequel to my editor, called Found Vampire.

Flashback Friday: An Itch to Scratch

Been wanting to feature some of my older titles for a bit, so here's An Itch to Scratch. Chronologically, it's the first Bloodrose book, and it was the second I wrote. It has a great new cover! Look!

So here's all the pertinents.

Deke has a terrible itch to scratch. He's a werewolf looking for a safe place to get his addiction on; Deke loves to feed vampires. When he finds himself at Bloodrose, an exclusive club that caters to supernatural creatures, Deke thinks he might be at the right place, somewhere he can find a kindred spirit.

Kasey is the vampire who ends up sponsoring Deke at Bloodrose, knowing that he has to have Deke for his own. The heat between them is immediate, but it's sharing the small details of their lives that makes Kasey and Deke think they might have something special together. Can they find a way to scratch Deke's itch?

K.C. Arlington generally had no problem with impulse control.

He only had a membership at Bloodrose because that was what one did. In this day and age, procuring your own meal as a vampire was déclassé, and not a little dangerous. A carefully selected group of feeders was a better idea, and at least at Bloodrose many of those feeders were as dangerous as he was.

There was also the whole issue of work. A private detective, Kasey had to work all night sometimes, and the club provided a safe place to bring a nice meal for a day of play.

Really, though, he could take or leave most of the offerings that came up in Bloodrose’s monthly catalogs. The hired help was good enough for him; he didn’t need an exclusive contract with anyone.

Which was why he couldn’t really understand his urge to attend Jonny’s latest auction.

Maybe it was more like a compulsion.

It wasn’t like the ad was all that enticing. The picture was grainy and poorly lit, looking like something from one of those little photo booths at the shopping centers that mortals loved so. Shaggy hair and a square jaw dominated the black and white, and the eyes seemed to glow like they were more canine than human, with the shine of a nocturnal animal.

The description no more suited Kasey’s taste than the photo. “Werewolf with itch to scratch seeks hungry vampire.”

Who in the world came up with this shit?

Still, his fingers did the walking, and he found himself dialing Jonny’s number on his cell, intent on asking a few idle questions. Merely for the sake of curiosity, of course.

“Hello?”

Kasey had dialed Jonny’s private number; no personal assistant for him. “Jonny. K.C. Arlington.”

“Kasey! What a pleasant surprise. You haven’t been in for weeks.”

“I’ve been on a rather labor intensive case.” He liked Jonny, and thought perhaps he should make a date to play chess, rather than wasting his time on a stray wolf.

“Well, then, all the more reason to rest and relax. When are you coming in?”

“Actually, I was thinking of attending the auction.” Damn it, that had slipped out entirely against his will. Where was his self-control?

“Ah.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in that single word. “I thought you might see something you liked.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Come on, Kasey. I sent that catalog to only a very few select members. You were one of them for a reason.”

“Are you trying to tell me I need to settle down?” The very idea made him restless, sending him to the great plate glass window that filled one end of his apartment. He did love to stare out, watching the night pass out in the city.

“Not if you’ve no desire to. However, I know that you like your donors hot, willing, and easily healed. Deacon is definitely worth your while.”

Something in Jonny’s tone piqued his interest, just like a really good lead in to a new case would get his juices flowing. “Have you had him?”

“Only at his initial test. This one is special, Kasey.”

“Hmm.” He scratched at the window with one finger, watching the little smears his touch created. “Why not keep him for yourself, then?”

“Because he’s not mine to keep. Oh, I would play with him, no doubt. But keeping him would be wrong. We’re not suited.”

“Matchmaker, matchmaker,” Kasey sang. “Make me a match.”

“Sometimes it really is obvious that you were queer even before you died. Will I see you at the auction?”

The decision came to him without any thought at all, and Kasey sighed. “Yes. Yes, I will see you there, Jonny.”

“Excellent. Friday at sundown. Don’t be late, Kasey. The bidding on this one will be intense.”

“I’m sure it will amuse me to no end to watch.” As if he would bid on a full-time werewolf.

He was having a few issues with impulse control, but he wasn’t stupid.

Buy it here at TQ.

Here at ARE

And here on Amazon

Manic Monday

Had a rough day today for no real reason except that it's been like sandpaper today. Every little thing rubbed me raw.

Those days ramp me up. By the end of the day I'm exhausted and sore, as if my grumpiness manifests itself physically.

I am now on the couch with dogs and wife, which is making things so much better.

So much better.

Hugs

XXOO

Julia

Happy Valentine's Day

My girl and I exchanged gifts at midnight last night. She got me the most amazing titanium moonstone and amethyst earrings, so no allergies.

I got her an iTunes gift cart and a notebook to write her music needs in.

We had omelettes for brekkie, rearranged the sunroom, had sushi for lunch, and we'll have raclette for supper. She walked the boy basset while girl basset and I napped. Now writing and laughing and talking.

That's romance, y'all. This is what we do every day, not just V day.

Well, except the presents

XXOO

Julia

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