Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
We hope you've enjoyed following the story.
You can download the free ebook in PDF format by clicking HERE!
Book 2 in the Bottom's Up Series
Caleb has worked hard to get where he’s at in life. Recently offered tenure at the college where he works, Caleb has let his personal life slide in favor of impressing the powers that be. Now that a much-needed summer vacation is finally at hand, Caleb fears his long hours may have been detrimental to his long-time partner’s happiness.
An appreciative eye for the male form is perfectly natural, but Zaki’s preoccupation with other men is cause for concern. Even though Caleb trusts his lover, he’s suspicious of Zaki’s motives. While Caleb isn’t above a little recreational sex by mutual consent, he wouldn’t be able to forgive Zaki for screwing around behind his back. His only hope is to turn back the tide of discontent before it’s too late…
Sitting at his desk, Caleb noticed the message light flashing on the phone. Although tempted to ignore it in favor of hustling through his work, his sense of responsibility wouldn’t allow him to dismiss the message. Very few people outside the administration called him on his work line, so it was probably important. He just hoped the call didn’t involve someone trying to talk him into staying on staff over the summer.
After punching in his access code, Caleb lifted the receiver to his ear. His lover’s voice echoed through the line.
“Hello, love. I know you’re hard at work right now, but I need you to meet me at Henley’s pub after work. See you soon.”
Confused, Caleb reached into his pocket for his cell phone, wondering why Zaki hadn’t used the mobile number to call him. A brief recollection of hooking up his phone to the charger the night before, and walking out without it that morning, stilled his hand. Sometimes he truly felt like he was getting senile.
Caleb replaced the receiver and wondered what Zaki was up to. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone to Henley’s during the week. Briar Henley, the owner, was a good friend of theirs, but he’d be busy working the bar. Zaki would be bored out of his mind in no time flat if he had to wait around to chat with Briar. Of course, there was always the chance Zaki wanted to kick off the summer with a few drinks. Zaki, however, wasn’t much of a drinker. He possessed almost no tolerance for alcohol. Two beers and he was buzzing…three and he was drunk.
If drinking was Zaki’s intention, Caleb hoped his lover would wait for him to arrive before he indulged. Lowered inhibitions, added to Zaki’s insatiable need to flirt, would lead to no good.
His thoughts shifted to the playful side of Zaki. The man had a way of turning even the slightest innuendo into something filthy and utterly delicious when he was playing the coquette. While this was one of the things Caleb loved about him, Zaki’s behavior sometimes made it hard for Caleb to tell when he was serious and when he was just screwing around.
Caleb wasn’t the jealous sort, and he trusted his lover, but Zaki had been acting a little strange lately…even for him. Almost secretive. For the last month or so, Zaki had gone out of his way to point out hot guys whenever they went out together. Not only would he mention other men, but also question Caleb’s opinion on each person and make lewd suggestions about what they could do to each of them. Not that a threesome was unknown in the relationship. They’d engaged in threesomes in the past. But it had been some time since they’d been so adventurous. Years, in fact.
Caleb was beginning to wonder if Zaki’s preoccupation went beyond the threesome arrangement. It seemed as if his partner was becoming downright obsessed with other men. Perhaps he was wandering outside their relationship. Caleb had nothing against playing—he’d always believed their relationship was strong enough to overcome a little extracurricular activity, as long as it was mutual. But Caleb wasn’t sure he could forgive Zaki if the man cheated on him. It wasn’t a matter of sex, so much as trust.
As he turned his attention to the papers in his briefcase, Caleb hoped he would never have to make the kind of decision that came with a cheating partner. He didn’t want to contemplate what his life would be like without Zaki…
Buy the ebook now at Amber Allure:
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Some of y'all know that I'm kind of a massive fan (ha! understatement...) of Patrick Wolf. Friday night, the girl-child and I got to see him play live at Cat's Cradle in Carrboro, NC. Some good friends of mine live there so it was a chance to visit with them as well, which was cool :) We saw Patrick and his boyfriend William walking down the sidewalk (!!!!!), and my friend Jesse actually TALKED TO PATRICK for a long time at Weaver Street Market O_O
That was before my daughter and I arrrived. We heard about it later, from his wife and my other friend that lives there. I swear, I wish I had Jesse's outgoing-ness. He can make friends with anyone!
Anyway, I expected the show would be awesome, since Patrick possesses scary amounts of talent, but OMG. This show surpassed everything I could have dreamed. Patrick worked that crowd like a master. He had us eating out of his hand. Which could have literally happened, since it's a small venue. I love club shows *g* He was like a foot from my face a couple of times. I could have TOUCHED HIM if I had the balls. I did not. But man, I wanted to. He did stare straight into my eyes and smile, though. Yes, I melted into a puddle of Ally-goo. I am sure I looked like a total dork, but I don't even care. A 6'4" man in shorts, suspenders and mid-calf brown leather boots with blue knee socks decorated with fluffy white clouds clearly is not concerned with coolness or the lack thereof. This is what I heart the most about His Wolfness <3
I wish I had the videos Jesse took at the show, since he was in the front row with me and the rest of our group (and is an awesome photographer), but he hasn't uploaded them yet. So, here are a couple of videos taken by some random stranger I don't know who was evidently in the middle of the crowd someplace. The first one is the title song from his new album, "The Bachelor", and the second is when he joined one of the other bands, The Plasticines, on stage for their final number, a really neat tune called "B.I.T.C.H." Enjoy the awesomeness that is Patrick :D
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Seriously funny folks. Go. Subscribe.
One thing that works for me when creating and working with characters is a personality profile that allows for a lot of variation. The character in my current work in progress is a personality type that I've never written before--not in anything I've ever written het or m/m, published or entertaining the dust bunnies under the bed. Of course, I've paired this guy with a character of a personality type I swore never to write again, but that's the way they made themselves. (Rat bastards.)
So what I've been wondering is this: Do you prefer reading or writing characters who are like you in personality or as unlike you as possible? As a reader of romance, I tend to identify more with one character and fall in love with the other (regardless of gender). When I'm writing I'm on the side of whoever's point of view I'm in at the time. When I watch a relationship-based movie or television show, I identify with whichever character is currently getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop. (And no, I didn't mean that sexually. *g*)
My favorite pairings to read and watch and write are of a control freak who is shut down and an equally stubborn you-will-notice-me character (*coughs* Aaron and Joey). But as much as I love that pairing, those personality types are absolutely nothing like me personally. Is that why I like them so much? Or is it because they're so perfectly matched in conflict that they make for a good story?
Anyway, I made a poll on my live journal. You can weigh in over there (even if you don’t have a live journal) or right here in the comments.
Enjoy your Pride weekend. I’m going to Toronto.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Okay. On to the RR. I admit to a little confusion on this but I'll see what I can do.
Round XXX (I think. Maybe.)
Cole and Matthew stared each other down. Matthew's face was a masterwork of mixed emotions--anger at Cole, hurt at yet another rejection, fear of possible retaliation from Tyler--or worse, from Tyler's scary-conservative parents. And now Cole had treated him no better than a hustler who was still pimping himself out for his rat bastard of an ex. Way to go, dipshit, Cole thought in self-disgust. Matthew had a penchant for mistaken assumptions, and a chip on his shoulder the size of Denali, but that didn't mean this particular misunderstanding was his fault.
Cole sighed. "Fine. So you're not the only one here who can leap to the wrong conclusions. I fucked up and I'm sorry. In fact…" Cole's mouth went suddenly dry. A good thing since it was about to run ahead of his brain. Did he really want to let that happen? ... Fuck it. "Fact is, I find you sexy as hell. You've got a mouth that I would give my left nut have on me again." Matthew gaped at him in obvious shock at the sudden change in tone, but Cole didn't stop. He was in it now and damned if he wasn't going to finish it. "Okay, maybe not that, but damn! If circumstances were different, I'd do you in a heartbeat. I'm not holier than thou or any one else. Far from it. I'm just a guy. A single, lonely guy who could use your help at my store and if, over time, that grows into something more, well, let's just say I wouldn't slam the door on the possibility. You can be a total asshole when you want to be, but so can I. Obviously, since that was a pretty crappy thing to say. But maybe we can start over. Sort of. Back things up. I don't mean forget all the stuff that's happened, but maybe…set it aside?" He let out a growl of frustration. Fuck! He was a painter, not a poet! How the hell did people have these conversations without it turning into complete gibberish?
To his astonishment, Matthew smiled at him. Not a sly or seductive smile. Not an ironic smile. Not a bitter smile that implied its own opposite. A genuine, amused smile.
Cole returned it uncertainly. "What?"
Matthew shook his head and chuckled. "You're a total fucking dork. You know that, right?"
"Oh yeah." Cole nodded. "Never a doubt of that."
"You're like something out of a dumb fairy tale. The White Knight and His Weird Cat, Mathesar."
Matthew snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes at the correction. "Right. Balthazar."
All the fire and fight seemed to have drained out of him. Fortunately, it seemed to Cole that so had the fear. "Listen. If Tyler comes back, I can handle him. We can handle him. Together."
"And if his folks come after you and your store?" Clearly Matthew was still playing a defensive game. Problems like Tyler might go away physically, but the mental and emotional damage was done. It would take time for Matthew to get past the destructive relationship.
That was okay. Cole could wait. "I don't think it'll come to that. But if it does," he went on before Matthew could protest, "we'll handle that, too. So. What do you say? You've got a job and a place to stay for as long as you need to get back on your feet. All you have to do is say yes."
The silence stretched out until Cole thought he'd go crazy, but he managed to maintain his composure and his sanity until at long last Matthew spoke.
"Hi. I'm Matthew." He put out his hand, which Cole shook before his brain could register what was going on. "I hear you've got a job opening at your art supply store, and maybe a room for rent."
"Wha-?" Then it clicked. Cole's own words echoed in his head. Start over. Back things up. He smiled. "I'm Cole. Do you know anything about art supplies, Matthew?"
Matthew shook his head once. "Not a thing."
Cole grinned. "You're hired."
Monday, June 22, 2009
Don't ask me which numbered part this is as I suck with roman numerals and lost count, but here's the next segment. Plus, I think I'm coming down with the cold my kids had last week, so I'm lucky to have gotten this done *sigh* Summer colds are worse than the ones in the winter.
Last part here
“Uh, do you realize what you just did? Who he is?”
Cole let out a long breath and nodded. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gotten Tyler to leave. In about ten minutes this numbness from anger would fade and he’d be hit full force by the ramifications of his actions. “Yeah. Tyler’s parents own half this town. We’ve had this conversation before.”
He locked the door and walked into the kitchen. Cole went straight for the cabinet over the sink and took out a bottle of whiskey. He normally didn’t drink. In fact, this bottle was the one that his brother had left on his last visit. He was glad he’d kept it.
Without a word Cole pour three fingers worth in a crystal tumbler. Matthew had followed him in, but he wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Jesus, had he just offered Matthew a job with him? He didn’t even need help there. But then, he’d also offered the kid to stay with him.
Two gulps and the liquor was gone, burning his throat and heating his gut.
Turning, Cole leveled his gaze on Matthew. Damn, the boy was more temptation than he could handle. The fear etching his face made Cole want to wrap his arms around him and comfort him. Tell him everything was all right. He’d kiss Matthew, touch him, and smooth away that fear and mistrust. He’d show Matthew exactly how tender and pleasurable it could be between them.
The image of Matthew crying out as Cole sucked him off flashed through his mind and made the blood rush to his groin.
No, he couldn’t do this. As much as he desired Matthew, he deserved to be treated right.
“Do you think he’ll tell anyone?”
Matthew chewed on his bottom lip, his hands slipping back into his jean pockets. He adverted his eyes before speaking. “I don’t think so. He was hiding the fact that he was sleeping with me. His parents don’t know he’s into guys more than girls. They also didn’t know about his debt, which was how he could get away with…well, what he did.”
“And if the found out about his preferences? What do you think they’d do?”
Matthew shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I’m sure that his dirty dealings would really give his daddy a bad rap and ruin the possibility of him running for one of those government positions that he’s striving for. I do know that Tyler complained about having to look like a perfect family. But as much as he hated it, he did what his daddy told him. Probably threatened to disown him.”
“That could be useful.” Cole poured himself a swallow more, but didn’t drink it just yet. “So, what do you say about that job?”
Sunday, June 21, 2009
I'll leave you with a few pictures of some really hot dads and their wee babes. Give your father some love today.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
This week, I have two new releases to tell you about...
First up, The Next Step -- sequel to Onyx. It's the continuation of Kale and Ian's story, but this one is me solo. Blurb and link to an excerpt is below.
Master Ian Vaughn and his sub Kale Daniels are back for more in this sequel to Onyx
Both men are happy together, playing and living like any other Dom and sub. For Kale, though, it goes much deeper than that. He’s fallen in love with his Master, but he has no idea how Ian feels about him. When Ian books them a private playroom at a new club, Kale is thrilled to find out all his Master has in store. And Ian has a few surprises that Kale never expects to receive.
Ah, the guiche piercing, that tiny, hidden surprise behind a man’s balls. What could be better than three stories that celebrate the guiche? In Reading the River by Jay Lygon, the narrator is working on a boat on the Mississippi. His roommate Billy, or Bear as he privately calls the man, is a tough guy he’s more than a little attracted to. When he and Billy finally get together, one of them has a little surprise for the other.
Mychael Black gives us After the Show, starring drummer Chaz, who’s into body modification. In fact he’s just gotten a new tattoo when he meets Devin. With a fancy car and even fancier apartment, Devin is quite the catch. Will he think the same of Chaz, even after he’s seen what the drummer has hidden away? And finally, Preston and Paulo are back in Bearing Witness by Lee Benoit. When the duo witness the end of a contract between Tasim and Jesse, Paulo begins to worry about his own place with Preston. Will his contract with Preston will eventually go the same way? Preston will need to come up with something special to reassure his lover of his place in Preston’s life. His permanent place.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
(I'm pretty sure this isn't really how my brain looks right now....pretty sure. *looks worried*)
So about a day or two ago, my writing partner and I finished what is - to date - our longest story. We're pretty stoked, considering we did it within a week. Which also means that I am...brain fried. Sigh. That sucks mostly because I can't not be trying to write something.
I need to take a break so I can recover and go at it again. Unforunately, I really suck with breaks. I mean...I can't do it. I'll lounge around and read some, sure but right afterward, I've got the tickle of an idea.
Sigh. Ah, well. It's a process. At least that's what I'm telling myself. The good thing is, that story is all clean and subbed. Woot! Now if I can just stop collecting publishers to sub to, I might be able to get something else done. Snort. If it ain't one thing, it's something else.
I'm off to slap around some words and see if they make something interesting.
Granted, if I could get off Twitter too, I'd probably get a shitload more done. But in the theory of things that are probable....that is not. *grin* I'm telling myself its research - learning more about people and the quirks that make them so infallibly human.
Yeah, I know. I don't believe me that much either. Ta!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Not that any of my books are in danger of being turned into a TV series anytime soon, but I shudder to think of what changes might take place if they did! I wonder if authors are ever satisfied with how their books are translated into film. I know that as a reader, it's hit and miss. The Harry Potter movies are probably my favourite books-to-film adaptation. I think keeping the spirit of the novels is the most important aspect, and True Blood fails utterly.
What's your favourite book-to-screen transfer?
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Okay, flying totally by the seat of my pants here. So if the plot changes to something completely other, y'all can deal, right?
Cole looked at Matthew. The boy had gone dead white. "Matthew? Who'd trying to knock down my door?"
Matthew swallowed. "Tyler."
"Your boyfried? The one who stood you up?" Cole tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but he wasn't sure how well he did.
Matthew chewed his lower lip. "Um. Well. Not just my boyfriend."
Something cold and unpleasant curled in the pit of Cole's stomach. Ignoring the continued noise from downstairs, he crossed his arms and eyed Matthew with as much calm as he could. "What else is he, Matthew?"
The boy closed his eyes. "He's my pimp."
Well. You wanted the truth. Cole nodded. Before he could say anything, Matthew spoke again.
"It all started out really good, you know? He was nice to me. I thought he was for real." Matthew let out a bitter laugh. "Then he found out I'd hustled and... done other things for my aunt and uncle. He was in debt up to his eyeballs for drugs, and he threatened to turn me in to the cops if I didn't turn tricks for him and give him the money."
"And tonight? Why were you meeting him tonight?" Cole marveled to hear his voice sounding so calm, when he wanted nothing more than to storm down the stairs and punch Tyler's face in.
Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "He's out of debt now. He was supposed to give me my cut of the money. I told him I'd leave town and never tell anyone what he'd done if he'd just leave me alone and let me start over."
"And you believed him?"
The glare Cole got could've killed at fifty paces. "What fucking choice did I have?"
"Point." A particularly vicious bang rattled Cole's front door, followed by another demand for Matthew to get his skinny ass downstairs pronto. Cole growled. "Okay. I'm going to deal with this asshole. You can stay up here if you want."
"No way. He's my problem. I'm coming with you."
Cole studied Matthew's face. He was still pale, but his jaw had a determined set to it, and his eyes burned.
Smiling, Cole took Matthew's hand. "Come on."
They descended the stairs together. Cole threw the front door open. A tall young man with short black hair, brown eyes and olive skin stood on the other side, scowling. His gaze zeroed in on Matthew. "There you are, goddammit. C'mere." He lunged for Matthew.
Cole blocked him with a hand to his chest. He shoved the man backward. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
Tyler gaped at him. "Getting my boy back, not that it's any of your business, old man. Get out of my way."
Shaking his head, Cole blocked another lunge. "Tyler, is it? You're trespassing on my property. Get out, before I call the cops."
Tyler's cheeks went bright red. "Fine. Matt, come on."
Matthew drew himself up tall. "No."
"What the fuck you mean, 'no'?" Striking like a snake, Tyler grabbed Matthew's wrist and yanked him forward. "Get over here."
The sight of Matthew stumbling forward, his slender wrist clamped in Tyler's cruel grip, made Cole see red. Before he could think too hard about what he was doing, he grabbed Tyler's wrist and twisted until Tyler let go of Matthew with a pained cry. Pushing Matthew behind him, Cole faced Tyler with a scowl. "I told you to get the fuck out of here. Now go away, and if I catch you bothering Matthew again I'll have you arrested."
Tyler laughed. "Oh, that's something, Matt. Found yourself a sugar daddy, did you?"
Matthew winced. Furious, Cole stalked toward Tyler, forcing him backward down the steps. "Don't you fucking dare call me that, asshole. I'll have you know that Matthew is working for me as an assistant at my shop." He is? Yes, he is. If he wants to "Now. Go. Away."
Snorting, Tyler turned and swaggered off. "Fine. Little bitch isn't even worth it."
Cole waited until he'd climbed into his car and sped off, then walked back to the house.
Matthew stood stock still in the open door, staring at Cole with wide eyes and a blank expression.
Cole swallowed. He hoped he hadn't just gotten himself into deep trouble.
Okay. So now it's up to the next person to tell us if there is about to be a fight, a HEA or something else *g*
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Sexy Comments & Profile Graphics
While I'd love to chime in on the next part of the round-robin...I'm up to my eyebrows in cold medicine. So instead I'll just remind you all that it's Pride month. Get out. Celebrate the diversity of human interaction and love...the G...the L...the B....the T and all the permutations and allies alike.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Chasing Smoke is now available! You can buy it here or wherever you like to get your ebooks. If you need tempting I offer you a sexy excerpt and a free prequel. Joan (the m/m reviewer at Dear Author) was kind enough to make Chasing Smoke a recommended read for June.
Okay. So I owe some round robin-ness.
Here you go. Last part Thanks, Maia.
He rose from the table and went to find Cole.
Cole stood in front of the window in his bedroom. Matthew knew Cole had to have heard him, but he didn’t turn around. Not even when Matthew spoke.
Cole still didn’t move. “I’m always happy to hear that. What about?”
“I—”I’m scared. Matthew tried again. “Look, it’s hard to know who to trust, okay? Things are pretty fucked up right now. I’m sorry that I pissed you off. You really have been a nice guy.”
“I didn’t ask you to apologize. Or for a compliment.”
“I know.” Matthew really had blown it this time. The one person who actually gave a damn—at least for a few hours, anyway—and Matthew had made the guy so mad he wouldn’t even look at him. He took a breath and let it out, hands fists in his jean pockets. Should he just go? Back out into the rain with no money and bruised ribs and—
Cole turned to look at him. The guy really was cute. A little short, but still strong. Matthew’s palms itched to feel Cole’s biceps shift under his grip. He wanted….they didn’t even have to fuck. It would be nice just to have someone like Cole next to him, someone warm, someone who gave a shit if Matthew was there in the morning.
He couldn’t figure out how to ask for it, though, couldn’t see how they could end up like he wanted, wrapped around each other in that big bed if they didn’t get there fucking. And he wasn’t going to offer that again until he was sure Cole would take him up on it.
“So does the fact that you’re still standing there mean you’re staying?” Cole came toward him.
“Yeah. If that’s still all right.”
Cole smiled, stepping closer. Matthew took his hands out of his pockets. Maybe this could go the way he was hoping. Cole would grab his wrist and pull him onto the bed and Cole moved past him, opening the closet and pulling out a blanket.
“I’m going to take a nap before I go in and open the store. The studio is upstairs, first door. Look all you want but don’t touch.” The sparkle in Cole’s eyes seemed to tell Matthew he knew just how much Matthew wanted to touch.
The cottage wasn’t that big, but even if it was as big as Matthew’s aunt and uncle’s house, Matthew thought they’d still have heard the banging on the door.
Matthew froze. He doubted Cole had many people trying to beat down his door at six-thirty in the morning.
“Open the goddamned door, Matt. You think I couldn’t find you?”
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
No, no! Hear me out. I'm an actor, you see, and I have an audition coming up with a local theatre that does nothing but adapted works of literature, complete with narration. It's a very specialized style. A twisted little part of me thinks it would be a hoot to use a piece from my first novel, but that's a little too self-centered even for me. ;-> Although when I wrote it, it was very much a movie playing in my head, complete with most roles being played by local actor friends of mine. But on stage... That's a different medium entirely. Books get turned into movies plenty: Harry Potter; Lord of the Rings; Brokeback Mountain; White Oleander. The list goes on and on and on and... Hollywood seems to have one original idea every other year. But I digress.
What would The Ballad of Jimothy Redwing look like on stage? Naturally it wouldn't be so sexually graphic, but how would a director envision it? Would they do it in the style of this local theatre or would the take a more traditional adaptation approach? It's all just wild speculation, of course, since even if it would ever happen (beyond unlikely!), the actors I'd want wouldn't be the right ages anymore. But it's fun to imagine the possibilities. How would the set designer create the countryside? the city? the interior sets? How would the actors play the characters? How would the lighting designer, the costumer, the props person create their parts of the theatrical equation?
And if not my own book, what other book would I like to see on the stage? Something by Ally Blue, maybe. I think her Untamed Heart would kick ass on stage. Or a sport-themed season with K.A. Mitchell's Diving in Deep and T.A. Chase's Out of Bounds. Or a series of one-acts adapted from like-themed short stories. My brain's gone all spinny with possibilities!
So tell me: If you could choose a book to be adapted to the stage, what would you choose and why?
Monday, June 8, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
.... Let's move on. A lot of this novel moved slowly for me because it involved actual research into the world of sprint cars. My husband has been a really good sport (as he often is) about answering my ridiculous questions about drivers, their contracts, their sponsors, and general rules of racing. I just wanted to get to the good stuff; namely, the sex and fighting. Since I've now gotten to write both, I thought I'd give just a little snip of the book that's been making me tear my hair out since the beginning of this year.
Meet Mitch and Pacey:
A second thud, harder than the one he’d taken from the wall, knocked any thoughts of finishing out of his head. Mitch had to blink to clear his vision from the jolt and crunch. Danny had slammed him again and the two of them came to a silent, shuddering stop on the grass. Mitch heard the cars on the track ease off on their throttles, which meant the yellow flag had gone up and they were driving under caution.
“Damn it,” Mitch muttered, then again, louder. “God damn it all!” He struggled to get his seatbelt off so he could climb out and inspect the damage. His only consolation at this point was that Danny wasn’t going to be able to finish, either.
The five point harness that neatly bound Mitch to his seat chose not to cooperate with the attempts to unbuckle himself. Frustrated, Mitch fumbled with his helmet and head restraint instead, anxious to get it off and get out of the suddenly restrictive safety devices.
His neck support refused to cooperate too, clearly in cahoots with the safety belt. Mitch glanced up through his protective goggles and saw Danny already climbing out of his car. Mitch redoubled his efforts to free himself.
The adrenaline that still thrummed through him made his task difficult, however, and Mitch felt the first beginnings of panic at not being able to get loose. He’d only been trapped one other time in his career, and even though that situation had been cause for real panic, even the memory of it was enough to make Mitch’s heart pound and his head swim with anxiety.
He was still yanking ineffectually at his seat harness by the time medical showed up. Mitch barely registered the men in blue that were surrounding his car. He was too intent on getting free, getting out of his car before what happened last time happened again, so when his window webbing was torn down, Mitch swallowed a startled gasp and looked up.
“Keep still, man.” Serious blue eyes, the lightest shade Mitch could ever remember seeing, were searching Mitch’s face. “Anything hurt? Are you stuck?”
“My harness,” Mitch said lamely. His thumb remained on the button, trying to get it to unsnap.
Dark brows drew together and the medic reached a hand inside the car. He put his fingers over Mitch’s and pressed down. There was audible click that Mitch could hear even through his helmet, and then he was suddenly free.
He shrugged the harness off and scrambled for the window, anxious to get out of the confined space. Once he was outside the car, maybe his heart would stop pounding so hard.
“Whoa, hey, easy there.” Strong hands were on Mitch’s forearms, easing him back down in his seat. “You should know the rules. You don’t move until medical checks you out.” Blue Eyes gave a quick smile, but something told Mitch there was seriousness behind it. “Got any neck or back pain?”
“Uh.” Mitch blinked and tried to concentrate on how he was feeling. His harness was unsnapped, so there was no more reason for his harsh breathing or shaking fingers. “No. No neck pain. He didn’t hit me that hard.”
It was true; Mitch had known as soon as Danny had made contact that they’d both walk away from it. There had been worse wrecks. Much worse.
“Hard enough,” the medic said casually. “Sit tight, I’ll let you out in a minute.” He scanned the inside of the car and then gave Mitch an up-down look that would have gotten Mitch’s phone number in his pocket if they’d been in a bar.
While the paramedic inspected as much of Mitch as he could from outside the car, Mitch gathered himself together enough to at least light his gaze on the medic’s shiny silver name tag beneath his badge. Pacey Evans.
“Pacey?” Mitch said before he could stop himself. There was a crackling bit of transmission feedback in his ear and he winced. He’d forgotten his mic was on. “That’s your real name?”
Those light blue eyes snapped up to meet Mitch’s own. “Yeah,” he said, a hint of a smile playing about his lips. “That’s my real name. You can climb out now.”
Aaaaand there you have their first meeting. Mitch Baker, my professional NASCAR driver, and Pacey Evans, track medic. A match made in heaven, or so it seems. Look for this novel sometime in September or October of 2009!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
I'm a bit behind on the promotion train - the to-do list exploded again, but I found three minutes for self-promotion here...
Metropolitan Passions, Vol. 1
Phaze Books, $12.95
Click here to order.
Together in one volume come the best of Phaze's M/M stories from the Urban Phaze line! Grab your GPS and discover passion in some of the greatest cities in the world. This volume includes Leigh's thrilling Why, Why, Zed?, her first M/M release in print!
A cryptic phone call to Cameron "Zed" Zedmore's cell reveals a plot to steal away Zed's live-in love, Nick. Devastating the thought of infidelity is, Zed realizes he can't blame Nick for being tempted to stray, as Zed's work has kept him in the lab, and out of their bed, for long hours.
Nick loves Zed, but isn't crazy about being a "house husband" anymore. He has needs Zed won't meet, and when another friend offers help in that department, Nick is tempted to accept. But then Zed comes home early...
You can still get Zed in eBook, too!
P.S.: I'm on Twitter now! See what I'm up to at @LeighEllwood.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
His letter, HERE, is wonderful and I highly recommend reading it. No matter your political party leanings, it's an amazing step (along with the recent gay marriage ruling in New Hampshire) for the entire GLBT community. :)
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
I think I loved it so much because it was the first thing I'd finished since December of last year. I totally hate admitting that but when you're blocked, you're blocked. Anyway, I'm sharing my glee because I'm just that happy about it. Not only because I'm writing again but because I feel like my To-Do list (which is amazingly short) is actually possible.
That story? It came to me randomly and I went with it. Thus the title of my post: it only takes a minute. That's what I love about this job. You can literally be walking down the street, see a dog dodge a car-related death and you suddenly have a story that might include that particular moment in time. I know we gripe a lot as a whole, us writers. Feeling brain dead is probably the highest ranking complaint. In some others, it's having too much at once and the brain just goes "oh what? see ya!".
But in the end, those ideas...oh man, they make it worth it. That's why we push on pass those blocks and write those blogs about how much it drives us nuts to be blocked. Because honestly...those stories, this job in general? Just kicks so much ass.
And this is a totally off the top of my head post but sometimes, you just gotta share the fun parts of being a writer. See ya'll next time!
Monday, June 1, 2009
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-524-9 (Electronic)
Buy link: www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/KinkyOrgasm.html
Briar Henley can’t believe his good fortune when Truman Lee strolls into his little bar and orders the house specialty—a kinky orgasm. Briar serves up the creamy, alcoholic drink with more than an ounce of curiosity. Why would a straight jock be in a gay bar?
After a little flirting, Briar doesn’t much care why Truman is there. All grown up, Truman looks better than ever. Briar can’t help but react to the pull he’s felt for the other man since high school. Painful memories of the insatiable crush he harbored for the homophobic jock makes Briar yearn for a little payback of the intimate persuasion.
Only Briar is in for a surprise of his own. Truman isn’t in town for a visit. He’s home to stay. And he wants Briar for a lot more than his fancy beverages...
...The bell above the door chimed. Briar turned toward the sound, expecting to see Ben’s daughter crossing the threshold. Instead, Briar gaped as the focus of more than one wet dream strolled into his humble little establishment. With his broad shoulders pulled straight and his head held high, the newcomer strode to the opposite side of the counter from Ben and took a seat on one of the stools closest to the door.
It’d been more than a decade since Briar had set eyes on Truman Lee. The other man had gone off to college on a football scholarship, while Briar had stayed behind to care for his ailing father. After his father passed away, Briar had taken night classes in business management and eventually reopened the family bar as he knew his father would’ve wanted.
Since he and the jock had been on opposite ends of the food chain in school, Briar pretended he didn’t recognize the other man. Better that than make an ass of himself by pointing out their affiliation only to have Truman feign remembrance.
Truthfully, Briar hoped Truman didn’t recall the skinny little outcast he used to be. High school was hard on almost everyone, but it’d been a particular rollercoaster for a scrawny, big-mouthed kid in southwestern Virginia. His piss-poor attitude had gotten his ass kicked more than once. Truman, on the other hand, had been a typical athletic meathead. With his stocky, muscular body and boy-next-door good looks, Truman had been every girl’s— and one lonely gay boy’s—idea of a walking wet dream. Thank God no one had ever found the yearbook photo of Truman that Briar had hidden under his mattress. He would have died of shame.
Briar snapped out of his fit of nostalgia and crossed to where Truman sat waiting. He schooled his features into the polite mask of someone who was used to working with the public. “Welcome to Henley’s. What can I get for you?”
Truman smiled at Briar, showing off the twin dimples in his lean cheeks. “I heard you make the best Kinky Orgasms this side of the Mason-Dixon line.”
“Is that so?”
Briar wanted to preen in response to the compliment, but he held it in. Apparently the bartending refresher courses were worth the price of admission after all. “I suppose whether or not they’re the best would depend on how you like them made. Would you rather have the drink mixed with strawberries or creamy vanilla ice cream?”
Truman’s nostrils flared. “Oh, I definitely want it creamy.”
“All right.” Briar swallowed over the frog in his throat. His imagination had to be creating the lustful way Truman eyed him. The man was as straight as an arrow…he’d banged half the cheerleading squad when they were in school. “One Kinky Orgasm, hold the strawberries, coming up.”
He could feel Truman’s gaze on his back as he set about getting the ingredients he needed. The attention didn’t help convince his cock of Truman’s hetero status. Briar’s unruly prick didn’t give a plug nickel about things like straight or gay. It knew what it liked, and Truman fit the bill nicely...