This year I will choose "Freedom"
What's yours?
XXOO
J
This year I will choose "Freedom"
What's yours?
XXOO
J
I really do
I manage goodwill toward men and I love presents and ho ho ho
I also love BA Tortuga's advent calendar
Check it out, y'all :D
In other news, I need hand warmers. So cold
Also, I need a cup of tea, and I'm not a tea drinker
Aaaaah
Hugs all
xxoo
Julia
I have a new co-write out with BA Tortuga for the Christmas season called Home for the Hollandaise. One of my best title ideas, thank you. It surprised us with how sweet it turned out, considering the title is funny. It's an old lovers meet years later story (the boys are only early thirties, y'all. They're not OLD) They're back in their hometown, and wishing they weren't. Here's the cover.
And here's a wee bit to get you going
He plopped everything in his Jeep and sat in the driver’s seat, breathing hard.
Seriously? Ten years, and the man had to be fucking beautiful?
It wasn’t fair.
None of it had been fair.
Nothing like going to surprise your long-distance lover by driving for eighteen hours and walking into his dorm room and finding him asleep, curled around another man.
Fuck this.
He started the engine and headed to Starbucks. He needed caffeine. And maybe to get the hell out of this one-horse town. Nothing good had ever come from it, at least for him.
It was pure hell, jockeying into a parking space in the busiest Starbucks on earth, and then he got in line, praying that there’d be an empty chair, somewhere he could log on. He also said a little prayer that he didn’t meet anyone he used to know.
He ordered a dirty chai latte and a piece of lemon pound cake, stealing a seat in the corner of the store and opening his laptop.
Oh. Blessed technology. He caught up on emails, completely losing track of time.
He was chatting with his line cook, Maisy, chuckling at her story about the service the night before, when he realized he was out of drink. Damn it. He didn’t want to lose his table.
“Hey. You want another one?”
He looked up, surprised. Kent. What the fuck?
The man smiled down at him, dimples carved way deeper than they used to be. “You’ve got the only chair left empty. I’ll buy it with a coffee.”
“That’s fair. Dirty chai. Two shots of espresso.”
“You got it.” He’d half-expected Kent to protest his order, offer to get him a drip coffee, but it didn’t happen.
He leaned back, made sure he was only taking up half the space, his nerves making him jittery.
When Kent came back, he had two venti coffees and a sleek little laptop. He handed over the coffee and sat, not pushing it, thank God.
“Thanks, man.” Jack typed a little, trying to make himself seem busy, but he was totally distracted by Kent across the table. He would swear he felt Kent’s eyes on him, but when he glanced up, Kent was looking down.
What the hell did you say to the guy that had broken your heart? And your left wrist?
“Thanks for letting me sit in, man.” Kent was staring at him when he looked up, now. “I needed some sanity.”
“Yeah? You just here for the holiday?”
Kent pulled a face. “Yeah. Sister is pregnant, and Mom blackmailed me. I wish to hell I had a gig and could say no, but no one is in the studio until after the New Year.”
So, still a musician. “Are you in LA?” Were musicians in LA still?
“Austin, actually.” Kent chuckled. “Staying in Texas, you know? But it lets me be a little more, uh, open.”
“Austin? Seriously? My restaurant is off Sixth downtown. The warehouse district.” No. Fucking. Way.
“No shit?” Kent laughed, drawing some looks. Jack couldn’t blame people. It was a good look for the man. “Must be pretty upscale if I haven’t been there.”
“It’s fine dining, yeah. We do okay.”
“Nice.” Kent shook his head. “How long have you been in Austin?”
“I got a job at Trudy’s right out of school, then I moved to V’s.”
“Wow. All this time.” Kent glanced down at his computer. “Not that you would have seen me, huh?”
“You’re not invisible. I don’t get to the music scene much, though. I pull long hours.” He had a house in Hyde Park -- old and goofy and weird and in constant need of repairs. When he wasn’t working, he was remodeling. It was a thing.
“No, I mean if I had called you.”
“For what? We were pretty done by the end, I think. It took me three years to pay off my part of the hospital bill.” God knew Momma and Daddy weren’t going to do it.
“Hey, I was afraid I was never gonna play again for a bit.”
“Yeah. We tore it up.” What? He was supposed to apologize?
“We did.” Sipping his coffee, Kent went silent for a bit, but still stared at him. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you. I was sort of hoping you’d be fat and bald, but… Damn.”
Kent laughed again, a short bark of sound. “Oh, now, you know us cowboys are vain.”
“I have heard that. Chefs are just arrogant and tired.”
“I bet you work your ass off, huh?”
If my shifter boys went the zoo, they'd be freeing all the animals.
XXOO
Julia
Third book in my Keeping Score demon hunter book is out today!
Here's a wee bit of it!
“Let me out of the cocoon, man.” He sucked up the juice, letting the energy fill him. Sweet and cool, it soothed him deep inside.
“No. No, I think you’re good where you are for right now.”
He frowned, wriggling, but there was nowhere to go. In fact, after the juice was gone, Laurent stretched out on him, holding him down, and he couldn’t shift around at all. “What are you doing?” Why the fuck was he allowing it?
“Keeping you still. Your body needs rest. You could barely dent me last night.”
There were bruises on Laurent’s face. Considerable ones. An open cut on one cheekbone. He’d dented Laurent. “I was giving you a break.”
“Bullshit.” Laurent snorted. “That was just foreplay.”
He wished. There wasn’t much left of him, his reserves were so far used that he was afraid he was burning his own bones just to breathe.
“I got you, okay? We can do this. I can’t afford to lose another good hunter. Janus retiring threw everyone for a loop.”
“Janus was a spoiled brat.” And Skye adored the grumpy old fuck with the passion of a thousand suns. The man could throw back some beers, and he could kill demons with his one good eye closed.
“Yeah, and he and that white-haired batshit crazy Cillian set a dangerous precedent.” Laurent chuckled, bouncing against him.
“They just pay us to kill the bad guys.” That was it. No thinking, no planning. Go and kill and then kill more.
“Exactly.” Propping up on his chest, Laurent warmed to the subject. “Janus got all emotionally involved.”
“You don’t have to worry about that with me.” His involvement had died with Star, no matter what she said to him in his dreams.
“I do, though. You talk in your sleep.”
Damn, that was dangerous. He would have to stop sleeping. “Good to know.”
“Yeah. I had a guy tell me I did that once. I recorded myself for a week after that just to see. I don’t.”
This man was insane. Totally fucking insane. “Untie me.”
“Oh, I kind of like you like this.” That grin was scary, manic and a little evil.
“Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Promises, promises.” Laurent was pushing him, testing him.
He forced himself to relax, his fingers searching for weaknesses in the cloth, the edges of the sheet. He could get out of this, strangle this freak and go meet Star in the great hereafter after wading through as many demons as he could. That actually sounded fun. He grinned, flexing his muscles, listening to the cloth creak in preparation of ripping.
“You don’t look like you’re being good, Skye.”
Being good never got you anywhere. Skye strained, a vein in his forehead bulging. The sheets started to give way and he dug deep, trying to mine more energy. He thought about Star going down under those demons, and the noise in his brain roared to life, drowning out everything else, red filling his vision.
“Seriously? Again?” Laurent’s voice snapped him back to the present. “You’re going to have a blowout or something. Like --” Laurent trailed off, wincing.
“Fuck off. Let me go!” Skye started to struggle in earnest, his body moving without his permission. At some point, his legs popped free, the sheet giving there first. Of course, that meant Laurent slid right between his thighs, hips pressing to his. “Get off me…”
Laurent’s eyes went wide, and for maybe thirty seconds Skye felt Laurent’s body taking an interest, that long cock hardening. Then the man rolled off him, sitting on the edge of the bed, back to him.
Okay.
Okay, wow.
XXOO
Julia
Here's a wee bit
Rene headed up the rickety stairs to his beloved salon off Frenchman's, intending only to grab some of his clothes and what cash he had left before heading west.
The deep South had not been kind to him, non, not a bit.
He'd run from Bartholome for well over a year, once the big male had caught scent of him in New Orleans, and he had thought he'd be safe in the sticks, but no.
His mate had found him.
He'd run until his pads were torn, until his fur was gray from soot and mud. Then he'd found his stash of clothes and ID and come home, hoping Bartholome was still heading east.
God, he just wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep. Just sleep.
He got his locks opened and stumbled inside, the scent of home perfect. Oh. Shower. He could shower first. He tore off his filthy clothes and limped to the bathroom, hand slapping on the hot water tap.
Cold water spurted from the tap, but it didn't take long for the steam to pour out. Oh, yes.
Rene climbed in, knees buckling as he landed on the floor of the tub with a soft sob. Better. So much better. He lifted his face to the spray, so tired of running. His bones hurt.
"Oh, chiot, you're all skinny and bruised." The voice was low, husky, but tickled, and Rene groaned.
Seriously?
Fucking seriously?
"You can't be here. This is my house." His place, and he hadn't even noticed that Bartholome was there, goddamn it. The moon was playing tricks on him.
"It's a tiny little bolt hole." The big one, Bartholome, was right there. Right fucking there. Huge and dark and beautiful, like the river at night.
"It's mine and you're sitting on my toilet."
"Well, you don't have chairs." Shifting his weight, Bartholome stared at him, dark eyes crinkled up with a tiny smile.
Rene was so tired, so tired, and the thought of running again made him want to whine. "How did you find me so fast?" Why won't you go away? You sent me away. You told me to go. They all laughed.
"You just ran, chiot. You didn't hide."
"Give me until morning and I'll do better."
"I can do that. We can nap together."
It was a terrible idea. Awful, but it sounded so appealing. Bartholome had never wanted to share a bed before now.
"The bed is good, soft." And he was worn to the bone.
"Then come on, chiot." Bartholome held out a hand. A big, square, hard to resist hand.
A voice in the back of his head insisted this was a huge mistake, a stupid act, but he took it anyway. Bartholome pulled him to the bed after turning off the shower.
The top blanket was dusty and they tossed it, but the rest worked and Rene collapsed into a fuzzy pile as soon as he climbed up, body refusing to go another single step. He snorted a little, wiggling around to try to get comfy.
Bartholome settled him once and for all by flopping down on top of him.
"Ooph." Bossy old man. Rene was going to bite him. In his dreams. After he'd headed west.
www.torquerebooks.com
“Fuck off. Let me go!” Skye started to struggle in earnest, his body moving without his permission. At some point, his legs popped free, the sheet giving there first. Of course, that meant Laurent slid right between his thighs, hips pressing to his. “Get off me…”
Laurent’s eyes went wide, and for maybe thirty seconds Skye felt Laurent’s body taking an interest, that long cock hardening. Then the man rolled off him, sitting on the edge of the bed, back to him.
Okay.
Okay, wow.
Really? Laurent sporting wood now? Totally not appropriate.
Funny. Kinda charming. Not appropriate.
He got the sheets off and sat up, stretching. The rage was gone, so he guessed Laurent had distracted him.
“You feeling more like you can cope?” Laurent asked, still not facing him.
“Yeah. You got a problem with gay guys?"
“No. Why would you think that?” Laurent turned, staring at him like he was an idiot.
“Well, you got all pissy when you sprung a stiffy.”
“Right. I got pissy. I’m the queer one, man. I figured you’d get offended, try to kick my ass.”
“The queer one. There’s like a dozen of us on the hunting rotation, and another handful that just like to fuck.”
Laurent blinked at him like an owl, mouth opening and closing for a moment. “A dozen? So, what, am I gross? Repulsive? No one has ever offered to fuck with me.”
“Really? Maybe you give off straight vibes.” How the hell did he know? “Also, you’re new.”
“New, what? I’ve been in the field for years.”
Seriously? Was the guy pouting about the lack of penis he was getting from his subordinates? “I haven’t met you before.”
“Well, now you have.” Laurent stood. “Pack your go bag. Now that you’ve calmed down, we’re going on a training retreat.”
“We are? Where? Can’t I just go back to work?” A retreat? Was that code for murder him in his sleep?
“No, you can’t. They told me I need to make sure you’re not a ticking bomb. And we’ll go to the cabins north of the compound.”
“What the fuck does anyone care if I blow? I kill the demons. If I explode, I take more out.”
Whirling, Laurent got right in his face. “Every one we lose is one I have to replace. Hunters are hard to come by and take years to train. Suck it up.”
Such a good visit, though
y'all should see the wolf and bear pottery BA got me in Old Town
Hugs
Julia
Hey, no one has ever disliked it, so that makes it famous, right?
I imagine my recipe bears little resemblance to Mom's these days, since I use organic tomato sauce and fresh not canned mushrooms, along with real garlic, etc etc. She was a child of the 50s, all canned stuff. But I use the bay and the sage and the red pepper, and the taste is pretty much the same.
What made me laugh this time was how it all went down. The meat wasn't thawed all the way when I tossed it in the pan. I had to turn it and scrape the browning meat off every few moments. I don't think my mom ever managed to thaw meat all the way when I was a kid, so I spent a lot of time scraping pans. And then I used mom's big saucepan to cook noodles. My partner BA doesn't like spaghetti shaped noodles, so there was no sense heating up the huge pasta pot. So I put the spaghetti in, then had to wait for the bottom half of the noodles to soften so I could bend the other half in.
Just like mom.
Somewhere I bet she was laughing.
XXOO
Julia
Here's the cover!
My story is about Hugh, a surly werewolf bar owner, and Seamus, an impossibly hot werebear bartender. Blow jobs, poachers and werelions also feature.
XXOO
Julia
Thanks to all for the support and love
XXOO
Julia
Our Bloghop Starts Here: Torquere Press
Hey y'all. Sorry I seem to be late to the party. As a lot of you know, my dad is really ill and I'm doing things as I catch time.
This year, my Sip Knights in Silk will help out Outserve, a military organization for equality and fair treatment of LGBT military personnel.
I was at Fort Bragg as a kid, and the Golden Knights were as much a part of my life as the Blue Angels and big artillery. I remember marveling at how skilled they were, and admiring how hot those guys were when I was a young teenager. So that's where Knights in Silk came from.
I hope you enjoy Kane and Derek. You can find them here!
XXOO
Julia
My Outserve charity Sip is out this week with Torquere. It's called Knights in Silk, and it's about a Golden Knight, one of the Army's elite parachute corps, and his old flame, who turns up when least expected. Outserve is a GLBT military aid organization, who help GLBT military members with legal and personal issues.
Look for it at www.torquerebooks.com
Happy weekend y'all
you can always see what I'm up to on Goodreads.
XXOO
Julia
Been sitting at the hospital a lot with my dad, and it's given us a lot of time to reminisce. One of my very first encounters with romance was actually in my dad's westerns. He read an author named Zane Grey, who wrote about miners and cowboys and rangers, always with tortured secrets and a beautiful love interest. They were like little John Wayne movies, like Roy Rogers encapsulated into a little play that you could read instead of having to rent or wait for AMC to show. They always had a happy ending, a kiss or two, a little heaving bosom at the end.
Even back then, I was pissed off with a less than happy ending.
Talking with dad made me want to write a historical for the first time in years. Maybe a menage, so I can have a heaving bosom...
Happy Sunday, y'all
XXOO
Julia
And now to Weck's for brekkie before I go see dad in the hospital
XXOO
Julia
Send an email to myboystouch-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
Wait for mod to say yay!
The secret word today is "evilhand"
I'm joking. There is no secret word
XXOO
Julia
“No. I call that a love bite.” Daelon stepped up behind him, and it made him moan a little. Not just because Daelon’s cock was pressing against his ass, but because he could only see Dae’s true form In the mirror. The little horns peeking out from the curly mop of hair, the tail that waved in the air, they were graphic reminders that his lover was far from human. “The mark of the beast would burn you a bit too much.”
“No burning. That smell ruins the mood.” He’d had no idea when he conjured Dae up that the crazy demon would hang around. He leaned back against that wide chest, humming at the heat between them. He grunted when Dae grabbed his cock.
“This is burning up, though. I can help with that.”
Jay nodded, meeting those pretty green demon eyes in the mirror. “I think you can.”
“I promise not to singe even a little.”
Jaydon chuckled. The hickey would be way harder to explain, but he’d take what he could get.
O.O
Here's a wee bit to get you going.
"Cool. It's a drive to where I live, so we could stay at the cabin here tonight. Save you that hotel room."
If he said yes, was he agreeing to sex? Did he want to agree to... Oh, who was he kidding? He loved having sex, and it had been a while. "Sounds like a plan."
"Good deal. Oh, look at those." The nachos came, piled high with chips and cheese.
Those were not Texas nachos. Not at all. "Whoa." He was used to something more... organized. A quarter of a tortilla with cheese and a jalapeno on it. Seriously. This was like Jenga.
"The trick is to put some on your little plate." Ben used a fork and scooped a bunch of chips and goo onto the little appetizer plate.
"Thanks." He got himself a scoopful, the scent of the beef so yummy. His mouth watered a little, reminding him that the lunch on the plane had been bird food.
He tried not to pounce on the food, to be slow and careful. Sure.
Human.
Very human.
He glanced up, though, and Ben's eyes flashed at him, that animal shine right there.
He dropped his fork, the silverware clattering on the table.
"You need to eat, honey," Ben said, the low growl marching up Aiden's spine.
"Sorry. Sorry, I just... I was... Yeah." Eating. Right. He stuffed a chip in his mouth before he said anything stupid.
"No worries. I just want to make sure you have plenty of energy."
Energy.
A surge of lust shot down his spine. The hair prickled on the back of his neck.
He got a beefy bite, and his focus moved to the food. Yum. Cheesy goodness. He needed to focus on things he could have. Like a good meal.
The sour cream wet his fingertips, and he licked them clean, sucked the sour off.
"Yum." Okay, the man was staring again.
"They're good. I love Mexican food."
"No, I mean you. That was hot as all fuck, you licking your fingers."
This time the flush climbed up from his belly, all the way up his neck. He was going to go up in flames. Really, this wasn't flirting. This was being hunted. He just wished his cock and his brain were on the same page, because his prick was more than willing to be prey.
The steaks broke the stare-down, and Aiden actually moaned. Oh, beautiful slab of meat. How long had it been since he'd had such a beautiful rare steak?
His wolf surged to the fore, and he shoved it down. No. No fuzz.
"Just breathe a minute, honey." Ben touched him, fingers on his wrist. "This is what happens when you bottle the wolf up too much, huh? We should run tonight."
"Without the moon? You're not worried you'll get stuck?"
"Nope." Those fingers stayed right there on his skin, burning away.
"No?" The steak smelled like blood, like butter and pepper and meat.
Ben smelled better.
Can we make the top ten?
XXOO
Julia
“Damn it, Jamie, I just need access to the library for five minutes.” The sucky thing about being a demon hunter was that most of your research materials weren’t online. Or digitized at all. You had to hit the library.
Even worse, when your boyfriend was the librarian, and he was pissed off at you for tracking green demon goo into the living room the night before.
“What are you going to give me?” Jamie asked, giving him an under the lashes kind of look.
Oh, now, that boded well for goo-forgiveness.
“I’ve always wanted to slip under one of those bit oak tables and blow the librarian,” Blaine answered.
Bingo. Jamie grinned like a fool, nodding, and Blaine knew he’d get his man and his big Latin-filled book on how to kill a big rock demon.
It was going to be a good night.
XXOO
Julia
The latest in the Mixed Breeds series from Changeling Press. Find it here.
Here's the cover
And here's a teaser!
“Biting me would be a very bad idea.” God knew what it would do to his body chemistry. He had a delicate enough balance as it was, despite his hard-won buff body.
“Why?” Her head tilted. “Are you contagious? Humans?”
“You never know.” He wasn’t contagious. He didn’t think. Hell, no one had ever bitten him hard enough to find out.
“Oh, I’ve fucked humans, Shanna. You just have to be gentle with them, but they’re not contagious.”
“Good to know.”
They were comedians. Great. “You two should take your act on the road,” Damon said.
“Good idea. Up.” Chase hauled Damon around, and Shanna shoved him. His cuffed feet weren’t up to the speed of the movement and Damon started to topple over.
They caught him, both of them strong, and the burn in the base of his brain responded, his skin beginning to tingle with heat. Shit, what the hell was that? Whatever it was, it was more dangerous than any weapon, and Damon struggled.
“Easy easy.” Chase sounded worried. “What the fuck? Shanna?”
“I don’t know.” Her nose brushed across his cheek. “Whoa.”
“Yeah. Let me go and I won’t do it again.” Damon was tossing out anything, desperate.
“Shut up,” Shanna growled, letting Chase carry him so she could unlock the shed. “Inside.”
They put him on a lawn chair, two pairs of eyes glowing at him in the dark, that animal shine fascinating. He pressed back, feeling the danger of this whole thing keenly. When they advanced, he kicked out, trying one last-ditch effort to keep those teeth away from his skin.
“You’re not one of us.” Shanna’s voice was pure growl, and so was Chase’s when he answered her.
“He’s not one of them, either, though. No. He’s something else.” Chase tilted his head. “I don’t know what.”
She looked at him, lips twisting. “So, what are you? And don’t lie.”
He stared at her, trying for deadpan. “US government property.”
“What do they want with us?”
He blew out a deep breath. Now he was in deep, but they knew something was off about him. Might as well see if the truth worked. “We don’t want you. We want the hunters.”
“Honey…” Shanna looked at him, head tilted. “I hate to be the one to break the news, but you were running with them. The hunters. The ones with the big guns.”
Damon rolled his eyes. “Look, do you get pizza delivery up here? I’ll buy, we’ll talk. It’ll be great.”
“God, I wish.” For the first time, she was a real girl, someone human, rolling her eyes and licking her lips.
“Seriously?” The Chase guy was grinning, though. “Well, if we’re gonna eat with this guy, tell me you have the stuff to make waffles. Since we can’t have pizza or pho.”
This? Was surreal. Bizarre. Entertaining as hell.
“We have to keep him tied up. Do you cook waffles?” Shanna asked.
“I do. With bacon. If you have bacon.”
Damon snorted. “I like bacon.”
“Everyone likes bacon.” She looked between them, unsure.
“Fuck it,” Chase said. “This has been the weirdest night ever. We can tie him to the chair. Come on.”
Well, being dragged into the house was better than in the barn about to be gnawed on. He might even get a waffle out of it.
XXOO
Julia
Adien is an over-humanized werewolf. Ben knows just the cure, and he's grateful to Full Moon Dating for the chance to prove it.
Eeeee
XXOO
Julia
Hunted: Mixed Breeds 3
Here's the info!
Chase has been charged with the task of finding the hunters plaguing his pack's territory. Unrest among shifters in the area is causing no end of trouble. So Chase hooks up with slinky PI Shanna to figure out what's going on.
Damon has fallen in with the hunters for reasons he'd rather not share, especially with a pair of shifters. So when Shanna and Chase capture him, Damon knows he has to be very careful, even if these two are all he's ever wanted. Can he convince them to let him go so he can do his job, or will he stay with them of his own free will?
Here's a yummy bit:
“You’re not one of us.” Shanna’s voice was pure growl, and so was
Chase’s when he answered her.
“He’s not one of them, either, though. No. He’s something else.” Chase tilted his head. “I don’t know what.”
She looked at him, lips twisting. “So, what are you? And don’t lie.”
He stared at her, trying for deadpan. “US government property.”
“What do they want with us?” He blew out a deep breath. Now he was in deep, but they knew something was off about him. Might as well see if the truth worked. “We don’t want you. We want the hunters.”
“Honey…” Shanna looked at him, head tilted. “I hate to be the one to break the news, but you were running with them. The hunters. The ones with the big guns.”
Damon rolled his eyes. “Look, do you get pizza delivery up here? I’ll buy, we’ll talk. It’ll be great.”
“God, I wish.” For the first time, she was a real girl, someone human, rolling her eyes and licking her lips.
“Seriously?” The Chase guy was grinning, though. “Well, if we’re gonna eat with this guy, tell me you have the stuff to make waffles. Since we can’t have pizza or pho.”
This? Was surreal. Bizarre. Entertaining as hell.
“We have to keep him tied up. Do you cook waffles?” Shanna asked.
“I do. With bacon. If you have bacon.”
Damon snorted. “I like bacon.”
“Everyone likes bacon.” She looked between them, unsure.
“Fuck it,” Chase said. “This has been the weirdest night ever. We can tie him to the chair. Come on.”
Well, being dragged into the house was better than in the barn about to be gnawed on. He might even get a waffle out of it.
Available a week from today at www.changelingpress.com
"Eight."
"Eight! Eight that you've had to have sex with in the line of duty? In the line of duty! Who in hell has sex with a demon to bring them down?"
"Hey, this job has very few perks." Damon started counting the detriments of the job down on his fingers. "No hazard pay. Singed clothing. Lots of slime. I figure if there's an attractive demon I might as well enjoy him before I send him back to Hell."
"It's bad for our reputation."
"As what? We're not exactly the kind of place you look up on Dunn and Bradstreet."
"We still have to prove that we can pull the trigger or do the damned spell when we have to."
Damon let his feet slam to the floor, rolling off his desk. He stood, looming over his boss so fast that the man backed up a step. "I never, ever have trouble sending their asses to Hell. No matter what I do to said asses beforehand."
His boss stared at him for a long moment, something weird flashing in those mossy old eyes. "One day, you'll meet one you can't let go of. Then what the hell are you going to do?"
Damon just sneered. "I do the dumping, Boss. Don't you worry. The demon who can snare me doesn't exist."
From Absolutely Magic, out todat at www.torquerebooks.com
In it, she discusses reasons why authors use pen names, and how they can help a writer diversify, shield their private life, or gain confidence before revealing their real name. She lists some great examples, and I would add authors like my favorites, Elizabeth Peters, who is Barbara Mertz and also writes as Barbara Michaels, as well as Jayne Anne Krentz, who writes as Jayne Castle and Amanda Quick. Elizabeth Lowell writes under her pseudonym with her husband.
It's a literary tradition, the pen name, and the fake biography to go with it, just as illustrated by JK Eowling in Julie's article.
So why is it that in the world of ebook and self-publishing the pen name is often vilified?
Now, I want to note that I'm speaking from my own experience. Julia Talbot is not my real name (gasp). When I first started writing m/m, back in 2000, it was often unsafe to publish under your own name. People sent awful emails about turning us into the FBI for illegal activities. One of my best friends, also a m/m writer, got a vacuum sealed dead cat in the mail. when you have day jobs and children and significant others who might lose their livelihoods, you take a pan name.
Then, when I got fairly good at crafting a m/m story, I started publishing with the GLBT publishers. They often asked me to shorten my pen name to J Talbot, just to be less gender specific. I thought about changing my pseudonym to Jules Talbot. I wrote one story under another name. Chris Wolfe. (My middle name is Christina, my Great Grandma's maiden name was Wolfe)
Funny things began to happen. People started accusing me of being dishonest when they "found me out". Readers started trying to tell me I was also any number of other writers on the market. Bloggers posted terrible things about my primary publishers, calling them on a "lack of transparency".
So, why is such a tradition suddenly considered dishonest? I have a theory. The internet age is all about instant access. The days of the writer hiding out in a garret is a thing of the past (though it was mostly fiction, anyway). Fans, bloggers, even publishers believe that they have a right to the real Julia Talbot, whoever that is, and they want personal interaction. No one wants to believe that writers, especially those of us who write erotic romance, are middle aged, or pathologically shy, or just plain bad at human interaction. The instant gratification, the Internet construct, makes it harder and harder for an author to maintain a private life under another name.
So, is it really dishonest to have a pen name. I don't think so, and I was really glad to see Julie's article describe the reasons why writers might want to use one!
What are y'all's thoughts?
XXOO
Julia
I love to write shifters as just regular people who happen to be shifters, but every pack of wolves I write has an alpha, and they all have a story.
Kamen, for instance, in my Pack Mentality series at Changeling Press He's queer and not afraid to show it, but it gets him in no end of trouble. Luckily for him, he has enough friends and family to start his very own pack, which I adore. I love the alpha as outsider bit sometimes.
In Crazy in Love, from Torquere Press Dakota is the more alpha of the pair of packless wolves, and he's happy to call the shots. He's more passive aggressive than I expected him to be, but hot. Very hot.
I have this urge to explore what happens in a pack when the alpha has a twin brother. What do you think?
XXOO
Julia
I love writing shifters but when I was in college I was obsessed with vampires
I didn't start driving a lot until I was 30
I love BopIt
I am incapable of finding things on the first try
I hate liver
I am obsessed with curtains
I lose words all the time and have to talk around them using their definitions
I was born with no canine teeth
I love weird books about history, the kind you get at the B&N bargain bin
what's your favorite weird fact about you?
XXOO
Julia
Next self-imposed deadline is for Dreamspinner, where I have a novel I want to get in. Only halfway there
Next real deadline is for a Christmas story. Got my Charity story for TQ done. Got my next EC sub in and waiting for reply. This week, edits on a lat, late story from the most patient editor on earth and more writing like a fiend
XXOO
Julia
Dad went back into the hospital for dehydration. Passed out and couldn't get up. Thank goodness for his new assisted living apartment. He could pull the emergency cord and not lay there all night like he would have in his condo. I was very, very pleased with how they handled everything. Two exhausting days later, he's home and drinking his water.
Deadline got pushed back. Again. So frustrating.
I hate to sound whiny, so I'll hush up about all that. On the good side this week, there have been bunnies on the walk, we made art today, and I got 2K on my story!
XXOO
Julia
Woo.
Coming soon at Changeling Press
XXOO
Julia
Most of y'all know I write GLBTQ fiction. I write het, as well, because I believe love is love, but there's a special place in my heart for m/m, f/f and menage. Why? Because I know you love who you love, and I believe that everyone should see themselves reflected in a love story.
Someone asked me the other day why I didn't seem to be all over Pride month. Frankly, I kinda forget there's a special month for that, as I celebrate pride every day! I tend to forget that not everyone is rainbow ready out there. So, every once in awhile it's good when something jolts me out of my, shall we call it complacency?
The recent SCOTUS decisions did that. While I don't live in a state with gay marriage laws, I do live in one that will recognize a marriage from another state. This means my girl and I could get married now. That? Rocks.
Makes me want to write a gay marriage story.
What are you doing for Pride?
XXOO
Julia
I'm not the world's best painter or sculptor, but I love to make art. Artist trading cards. Stitching. Gourd dolls.
A lot of times, I like my art to reflect what's going on in my life. Right now, I'm all about looking back over the last few years and getting rid of the stuff that doesn't give me joy. I need to slough off the false impressions of myself that I've let build up. I need to work on the things I don't like about myself. They're always the things I like least about other people, and I've had a lot of time lately to see what those things are.
My latest canvas is called "forgiveness doesn't come with a debt"
y'all just wait until I start taking pictures!
In the meantime, did y'all go get Fever? It's a western anthology from TQ
XXOO
Julia
Not dead, I swear. Promo is the first thing to fall through when I get whoa busy, and yeah, I've been crazy
Things are settling now, so expect mas craziness from me!
Hugs
Julia
I have to tell you how excited I am to debut my Soul Debt story this week. It's called Opportunity Knocks, and it's all about Jordie, a rock star with writer's block. At least until his annual visit from a demon gets his creative juices going again. Mal's not just any demon, though, and he's worked hard to get Jordie's case!
Here's the cover!
And here's something spicy to help you love it!
Mal kissed the back of Jordie’s neck. “Shall we get started?”
“Sure.” One day this part wouldn’t be weird, right? The demons were always different, so there was this bizarre getting to know you--
“You’re thinking too much.” Mal turned him around and kissed him hard on the mouth. None of them had ever kissed him before. It was like being touched by a live wire, but without all the badness and only the wonderful shock. He reached up and grabbed Mal’s shoulders, bare and sun-warmed under his hands.>p> Mal hummed, tongue fucking Jordie’s lips, fingers digging into his ass. They moved together, his back landing against the wall as Mal pressed against him. He could feel the heavy, fat cock on his hip, letting itself be known.
“Please.” He hated begging, but that was exactly what he was already doing. It had taken, what, three seconds to get there?
Mal’s laughter was at least more husky than mocking, and the fingers around his cock felt perfect. They rocked together for a moment, just jonesing on the touching. It would get way more intense and he knew it.
“Quit anticipating. Just let it happen.”
Like he could do that. Still, that touch was so fine, so good, and he arched into it, asking for more. His breath started to come hard and fast. Jordie shook, a song beginning to blossom in the base of his skull. Thank-- well, not God. No, this was demon born, but he didn’t care. He had to be able to make music. Had to. It was the biggest thing in the universe, more necessary than breathing.
“Better, huh?” Mal breathed against his ear, so hot, like fire.
“Better,” Jordie agreed, pressing back, demanding more. The magic swirled around them. It was crazy, how this worked, how fucking sexy this was. Those hot demon’s hands slid over his skin, stroking, stoking the fire.
His clothes fell away, almost scorched as they fluttered to the ground. Jordie let his skin rub Mal’s, feeling like he might go up in flames. Fuck, he knew he’d been hot for it before, but this... This was fiery.
“See? All you have to do is let go, baby.”
***
And here's where you can buy it!
XXOO
Julia
Kansas City is surprisingly nice. We didn't get out of the hotel much, but I enjoyed the people and the BBQ greatly.
We got to see everyone. I mean it. All the people. If I try to mention all by name I will no doubt miss someone, but I want to thank everyone who stopped to chat, hug, eat, and sign and receive books.
A huge thank you to Tara Lain from Ellora's Cave for arranging the EC party on Wednesday night. We had a blast.
A big thank you to ARE for the Thursday expo
Thanks to Cheryl Dragon for clue-ing us in to the Signing at the Plaza Saturday afternoon
The best part, though? The fangirling I got to do Saturday at the Giant Book fair. I deliberately didn't sign so I could go. I got to see Jude Devereaux and Maya Banks, Janelle Taylor and Sylvia Day. I got to jump and squee at my friends' table, making lots of other people look and wonder who they were. Sadly, Karen Robards was a no show, as I really wanted to thank her for the hours of pleasure she's given me as a reader, but all in all, it was a blast.
Next year is in NOLA, and I can't wait. Y'all should come with.
XXOO
Julia
The window box talked about why this particular guy hated B&Bs. I read about how he didn't want to eat breakfast at 7:30 with 10 strangers, and about how he wanted to check into a hotel anytime after 2, not between 4 and 4:30. He didn't want to be chastised for not eating the scones or for getting back past curfew.
Y'all, I was so excited to see someone else who didn't like the B&B experience. Our last one, while very pretty and clean, served us coddled eggs and a dry piece of Udi's toast after claiming to be gluten free accommodating. Worse, she told us she was sorry we missed out on the cookies, as she made great ones. Even though my partner and I and another guest not in our party were GF, she made no attempt to even put out fresh fruit when everyone else got brownies and cookies and homemade bread...
Give me my hotel, where I don't feel like I'm tiptoeing through someone else's life.
Doesn't mean I don't have the coolest idea for a B&B storyline, though...
It was just fun to see someone else say the same thing.
XXOO
Julia
I love adventure
Today I am listening to the wind, waiting for the Voice to come on, and typing with a punctured finger
Mwah
Julia
My newest release is called Incomparable.
It's my first Bloodrose solo release since Lean on Me.
Here's the cover, which I think BC did a fab job on
And here's a bit to get you going
Nikolas had to admit the new bar manager intrigued him. Three weeks the man had been there, and he was a model of efficiency. Ashe knew every bartender, server, security guard and performer by name. The man knew the drink menu by the second night, and by week two he had added three new cocktails that were flying off the liquor shelves.
Ashe was also very attractive, almost bear-like with his shaggy, dark gold hair and big, soulful brown eyes.
The most intriguing thing, though, was how Ashe treated Nikolas. Like he was just like everyone else.
Not that being treated like everyone else was bad. On the contrary, Nikolas found it utterly fascinating. Ashe didn’t stare, he didn’t try to pick Nikolas up, and he didn’t offer to do shows with him. All Ashe did was serve him a drink now and then and tell him goodnight when he left. Nikolas wended his way to the bar a half hour or so before opening, wearing the robe Cady had pressed on him, not wanting him to ruin the intricate gilding the man had done for Nikolas for tonight’s show. The robe was soft enough to absorb any extra paint and powder, but not rub it off like his street clothes would.
“Hey, Nik,” Ashe said, smiling at him when he sat down. “How goes? Coffee or bourbon?” How neat was it that Ashe remembered what he drank? Coffee when he was doing a scene with spanking or whipping, bourbon where he was doing bondage or anything else requiring stillness.
“Bourbon, please. We’re doing ropes tonight.”
“Yeah? Isn’t that uncomfortable?” Ashe set out a short glass and poured two fingers of bourbon into it. The man had the most perfect pour. Apparently overpour had gone down a ridiculous sixty-five percent since Ashe had taken over the bar. Jonny had said he’d thought his bar staff was close to perfect, but with Ashe on the job, they were models of efficiency.
“It’s actually kind of Zen.” It wasn’t as amazing as being beaten, which Nikolas found utterly perfect, calming, even, but it settled him anyway. He loved bottoming. Nik didn’t consider himself a sub. He wasn’t interested in service at all, had no desire to kneel next to someone all night with his hands behind his head.
Beatings and ass play and stuff? He loved that, and he excelled at it to the point where all the other performers sniped about him behind his back and the customers got a little… gushy sometimes.
Ashe laughed. “I think it would drive me nuts. Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Their fingers touched when Ashe handed over the glass, and Nik felt a little jolt of awareness.
Too bad Ashe seemed unfazed. He really did.
“Can I ask you something?” Nik said, staring at the way light glinted off the liquid in his glass.
“Sure.” Ashe started stacking clean glasses on a rubber mat.
“Are you straight?”
“What?” Those brown eyes met his, Ashe frowning a little.
“Are you? I mean, I know the ‘Rose is mostly a gay place, but no one would hold it against you if you were into the ladies.”
Ashe laughed, the sound more surprise than anything, Nikolas thought. “No. I’m queer as a three dollar bill.”
“Oh.” Nikolas deflated a little. Wow. That was somehow more of a bummer than if Ashe had said he was straight.
“Why?”
Nik tossed back his bourbon before answering. He needed a little time to collect his thoughts. “You never hit on me,” was what finally came out, and he winced because that sounded so fucking conceited.
“Well, that’s not because I’m straight or because you’re not the most stunning man I’ve ever seen.” Those smile lines fascinated him, the way they creased the skin on either side of Ashe’s mouth.
“No? What is it, then?” Nik was truly interested. Ashe was the first guy in ages who called to him that way.
“Well, everyone has told me you don’t date co-workers.”
Huh. He sat up a little taller. True enough, but “everyone” didn’t need to be making his decisions for him. “What if I decided to make an exception for you?"
***
From the unproofed copy
Nikolas laughed, the sound light, unforced. “And I wondered if you were straight. So, this is the getting to know you portion of the evening, right? What else do you want to know?”
Ashe didn’t even blink, didn’t think. He just blurted out, “Why do you do what you do?”
The long look Nikolas gave him was as direct and as serious as the silence that came with it. Then those inky lashes fell over Nik’s eyes. “Why does anyone do their job? I’m good at it.”
“I’m sorry.” Ashe didn’t know what else to say, since it seemed to be a sore spot. “I mean, I’m a bartender because I don’t have the attention span for anything else. And because I like to sleep in.”
“Really?” Nik glanced back up at him, a smile beginning to form on his beautiful mouth. “Lazy and bartender don’t go together.”
“Hey, I never said I was lazy.”
“And I’m not a slut.” The flat words surprised him, did make him blink now.
“I never said you were. I mean, I didn’t mean to give that impression.” Ashe tried hard to get the words in the right order. “I guess it just doesn’t jive with what I know about the lifestyle. Which is, admittedly, not much.”
“What do you mean?” Now Nik sipped his coffee, meeting his gaze directly, which he guessed was an improvement.
“Well, I thought subs liked to have one Master, or whatever.” He’d read books. Real ones, not those terrible ones that treated BDSM like a full contact sport. Working at the Bloodrose had been hugely educational.
Nikolas’ frown cleared up, a smile glinting in those clear gray eyes. “Well, see, that’s just it. I’m not a sub.”
“Uh…” He had no idea what to say to that. Nik let people tie him up, beat him, bind his cock, put plugs in his ass. How was that not subby?
“Seriously.” Leaning forward, Nik lowered his voice. “I’m a bottom, right? I like spanking and assplay and stuff, but I’m not interested in service. I have no desire to sit naked at someone’s feet all night with my hands behind my neck or something.”
“Okay.” Ashe was totally out of his league. As in, he’d never thought of his own sex life in more complicated terms than whether he liked to pitch or catch.
Ashe was a pitcher.
Hope I piqued your interest!
XXOO
Julia
How are y'all?
Newsletter this week
Hugs
Julia
Tomorrow is my dad's 81st birthday. Hey, I'm only 42, okay?
Thursday is Valentine's day, and me and my girl are going to make a decadent supper. What do you think I ought to get her for Vday, y'all? The stove top smoker, the garden box or the fermentation pot? I'd get her the totally rad compost container, but our HOA doesn't allow composting. O.o Yet another reason to move on.
Saturday I'll be learning to knit a sweater. Sometime between now and then I have to knit a swatch. I am so not a swatcher. Like in my writing, I'm a pantser. We'll see how this works.
So many deadlines, y'all. We won't even talk on that.
Also, my new book at Changeling, the Bear Facts is out. Hot, y'all. Bear shifter. O.O http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1824
Ongoing through Valentine's day is a sale at www.torquerebooks.com- put in code vday2013 for 20% off your total purchase. Stock up on my books!
Big week! Happy Valentine's day, y'all! Look for flash fiction Thursday!
xxoo
Julia Talbot
www.juliatalbot.com
Been a crazy week of docs for my dad and running errands and doing tax forms for the business, but I can breathe a little now!
My newest book at Changeling Press releases in a week! It's the second book in the Mixed Breeds series, and I'm so tickled about it. It's fun, sexy, and has a bear, wolf, and mountain lion shifter!
I gave you a sneak peek of the cover, so here's a excerpt to get you fired up.
"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Ralphy." Jeanette waved a finger under the big wolf's nose, not at all fazed by his ugly snarl. "You are not the alpha of me."
"I am one of the pack enforcers, woman! There are too many hunters in town. You can't just go off and run on your own. You need to stay with the pack, do your damned work."
"I am going jogging in the park, not running under the full moon. Asshole." She'd had it with the hyper-vigilant, testosterone-riddled attitude the pack had since Marin, the old alpha, had died, and no one had been chosen to replace him yet. In fact, she was pretty sure she was going to go lone wolf here soon. She could do her work from anywhere, since she designed websites. Thank goddess for the internet.
Maybe she would go rogue right now if Ralph didn't get out of her face. "When I'm alpha I'm going to lock your ass in the closet until you learn your place!" he shouted, and damned if he didn't put a hand to the center of her chest and shove.
She didn't think; she slapped him so hard her hand throbbed, and they stared as if they hadn't known one another since they were pups, like they were seeing each other for the first time. "You ever touch me like that again, and I will kill you." She would, even if she had to do it in his sleep.
Jeanette turned on her heel and walked away, grabbing her gym bag with her running shoes and shorts and all in it. She always thought things out better when she was jogging. It was time to figure out what she was going to do while the new alpha was chosen. Or maybe permanently. Hunters all over town or no, she had no desire to hang out with such hidebound, controlling assholes.
A girl had to think of her future, after all.
Time to run.
* * *
Her feet pounded on the trail, the bass from the iPod thrumming in the base of her skull. She was heading into mile three and feeling good. Damned good.
Jeanette loved this part of the state -- Boulder close enough to visit, Denver close enough to work in, and the fucking pack far enough away to leave her alone. It was going to be fall soon and then her running would have to move inside to the gym track. Right now, she could smell the outdoors, all the trees and animals, the feel of actual earth under her feet.
She pushed deeper, harder, keeping up with the rhythm of the music, telling herself that it was totally good, to run alone. Be alone. All the time. Even if she was lonely. All the time. Damned macho pack assholes, making her take her dignity and leave them.
She turned a hairpin curve in the path and shrieked when the earth slid out from under her feet, gravel sliding, sending her slipping down the slope. One of her feet smacked into a rock and turned, rolling hard with a snap that she actually heard a split second before the jolt of pain shot up her leg. "Fuck!"
When she came to a stop, her head pointed downhill, her broken whatever pointed up, and she lay like a turtle on her back, the world slowing from a sickening spin. She sucked in a sobbing breath, telling herself she was not going to cry. Not. She had her phone, she had a bottle of water. The trail wasn't busy, but it wasn't deserted, either. Help wasn't beyond reach.
"Holy shit, are you okay?"
Oh. Unless she was hallucinating the pretty blond guy appearing over the ridge, help was right here.
"No. God, no. I need help." She nodded, reaching out instinctively.
"I saw you disappear right off the trail." The man came pelting over, his trail runners slamming on the dirt. "Crap. I think you broke your ankle." He helped her right herself, her leg screaming the whole time.
"Uh-huh." She was covered in a cold sweat, shaking, nausea in her throat.
"Your phone getting any signal? Mine is dead. I can get you back to my Bronco, but we might want to call 911."
"I don't... I'm not interested in hospitals, man." Doctors didn't love people like her. Well, half-people, half wolf people like her.
He tilted his head, nose working hard. "Oh, man. I was running hard and so freaked I didn't notice 'til now... How fast do you heal?"
"Fast enough to only have to take the rest of the week off work." She tilted her head, sniffing. Oh, not one of her kind, but pretty, and not wholly human himself.
"Well, that's cool, I guess. I have to lick things a lot more..." His cheeks went red-hot, and he grinned at her. "Didn't mean that quite like it sounded. Here, grab my neck."
Jeanette couldn't help her chuckle, but she did reach up, arms wrapping around his neck. "There's something to be said for licking."
Look for it here Friday
http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1824
Edits done on Mixed Breeds 2 for Changeling Press
Opportunity Knocks, a demon at the door story, turned into CP
Over halfway through my next EC (I hope) story. Have to get it done and in.
For TQ I have 3 novels and 2 shorts in the works
What are y'all up to in the New Year?
XXOO
Julia