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Rainbow Snippets: Drumbeat is here!

My latest novel, Drumbeat, is one week old today, so that’s what I’m sharing from. You can read all the details below the snippet, including my wonderful interviewed for the WROTE podcast. We had a great conversation about writing bisexual characters, non-binary representation, and invisible disability.

I’ve been just blown away by how well this book was received. I wondered if people would have issues with the polyamory or the on-page “het sex” (I’ve been scolded for that in the past) or the fact that I (a hearing person) wrote D/deaf characters or the way I wrote Jamie’s eating disorder or the fact that I have a former adult film actor babysitting a small child. So far, none of those things have been challenged at all. Heck, I only had one person say it didn’t read to them as fully a stand-alone (and that’s fair, as well as it being the best “negative” review I’ve ever gotten). If any of that appeals to you, maybe you’ll like Drumbeat too.

This snippet is in Cian’s POV and introduces us to Jamie.

It was too bad Jamie was so standoffish. He was a thousand shades of adorable, and no amount of pseudo-bad-boy-rockstar play-acting could hide it. While making his way to the table after performing, Cian had taken a few minutes to admire him. Jamie was tiny, probably barely five foot five. His brown hair was short and spiked. He had piercings all over, enough in visible areas that Cian wondered if he had some in less public places too. He didn’t recall him having any in his videos, not that he wanted to admit how much of Jamie’s body he’d seen. And those eyes—dark and sparkling, black-lined to give him a hint of being trouble.

Rainbow Snippets is a safe and welcoming space for LGBTQIA+ authors, readers, and bloggers to share 6 sentences each week from a work of fiction—published or in-progress—or a book recommendation. Feel free to join in!

Book Info

Listen to my WROTE interview here or follow this link.

You can also read Jayne’s review on the website and my guest post on Jeanne G’Fellers’ blog.

Title: Drumbeat

Series: Notes from Boston (#3)

Date: September 1, 2018

Length: 231 pages

eBook ISBN: 978-1-944591-78-6

print ISBN: 978-1-944591-51-9

Category: LGBTQ Literature, Gay Romance

Goodreads

Purchase Links

Synopsis

Jamie Cosgrove is doing his best to recover from a break-up after years with an abusive boyfriend. All his usual coping strategies have failed, and he’s fallen back on things that make him feel safe: drumming, food, and his friend Trevor. The trouble is, two of those are still secrets, even from those closest to him.

Cian Toomey has it all. He has loving relationships with his partners and a fulfilling, creative career. The one thing he’s missing is someone to go home to at night. When sudden changes occur at one of his jobs, he’s faced with a choice to find something new or move in with his partners in a different city.

Well-meaning but pushy friends seem to think Cian and Jamie are the answers to each other’s prayers. They couldn’t disagree more. A series of random events thrusts them into each other’s lives, and they find they have more in common than they thought. But when all of Jamie’s carefully constructed walls crumble at once, both of them will have to depend on the support of their friends and family to strengthen their fragile bond.

Review and Blog Tour: Of Princes False and True by Eric Alan Westfall

Books, Featured, Reviews

About the Book

Title: Of Princes False and True

Author: Eric Alan Westfall

Publisher: Eric Alan Westfall

Publication Date: August 13, 2018

Word Count: 81,400 words

Category: MM, fairy tale, magic, wizards, witches, crones, humor, gods, goddesses, gender fluid deities, courtroom proceedings

Genre: Romance, Fantasy

Cover Artist: Karrie Jax

Goodreads

Purchase Links

Angus & Robertson | Amazon | Kobo | Indigo | Universal Buy Link

Synopsis

A tennis match? Starting a war between the Duchy of Avann and the Kingdom of the Westlands?

Only in a fairy tale.

When Prince Henry hurts a young ball boy who told him Danilo’s ball was inside the line, Danilo’s response is automatic. Punch the prince’s face, pick him up left-handed, and break the royal jaw. Unfortunately, there’s another “automatic” at work: a death sentence for whoever strikes royalty.

King Hiram can’t—won’t—change the rule of law to rule of royal whim. But he grants the Heir of Avann fifteen days to find words that will allow Danilo to live.

In those fifteen days: Magick. The gods, goddesses and gender-fluid deities on Deity Lane. Kilvar, the assassin. A purse which opens in a bank vault. A mysterious old man. The Lady of All. The Magickal Hand writing, rewriting. A fairy tale within a fairy tale. A huge horse called Brute. And at the end…perhaps the right words and a most unexpected love. Plus a deity-supplied dinner with just the right amount of garlic.

All royalties will go to a local LGBT organization.

Review

This tale is bawdy, naughty, hilarious, and altogether magical. I took a risk on a new-to-me author because the book blurb was irresistible, and it paid off several times over. I couldn’t put the book down once I started reading.

Ages ago, I pilfered a book off my parents’ shelf full of what amounted to retold fables and fairy tales, but with a healthy dose of dirty humor. This book reminds me a lot of that, only far better written. Some of it is outright comedy, but the majority is far more subtle.

If someone were to set out to write the “perfect” fairy tale, combining just about every trope and element, they might end up with something like this. If they were any good, that is, and Eric Alan Westfall is one hundred percent brilliant. There are so many little gems and nods to all kinds of fables, fantasy, and fairy tales. I spotted a whole lot of things that reminded me of many of my favorite stories. I won’t spoil them; it’s much more fun for readers to discover for themselves.

There is also a lot of (mostly gentle) humor at the expense of gay romance tropes. Readers should hold onto their hats because nothing is safe. I suspect a lot of people who pick this up will miss the point. For me, it read as though it came from a place of great affection but with an understanding that tropes are…well, tropey. It’s done in such a way as to create a terrific story, and none of the humor is mean-spirited or cruel digs.

The characters are, on the whole, likable. Yes, even the wonderfully horrible Prince Henry. The plot is a little on the predictable side, and I suspect intentionally so. It makes no difference because the joy isn’t in the twists (though there are some of those too). What makes this such a treasure is all the fun along the way. You can only read it once for the surprises. But then you’ll want to read it a second time for anything you might’ve missed, and by the third time, you’ll be reading it just because the author’s writing is such a pleasure.

For delightful naughtiness, a magical land of hidden gems, and a good time had by all, this gets 10/10 fountain pens. “So it has been said. So let it be done.”

Interview

I’m thrilled to have Eric Alan Westfall back on my blog. Well, if we’re being picky, I had his alter-ego last time. Anyway, I’m happy to see he’s got plenty of new stuff to keep readers happy, and he’s here to tell us a bit about life and writing.

Let’s get right to it. Are you a straight-through (gaily forward) kind of a writing guy?

That’s possible? (Okay, just teasing.)

I know there are writers who work that way, but I’m not one of them.

Remember what Hedley Lamarr—not Hedy!—said in Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles? “My mind is aglow with whirling, transient nodes of thought careening through a cosmic vapor of invention. My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives.”

I kind of like to think Mr. Brooks was describing the way my mind works when he wrote those lines. Can you picture a mind like that doing anything as straightforward as A, to B, to C, all the way through to Z?

Neither can I. I know where I’m starting, I know where I’m finishing, and the process of getting there is non-linear. Chapter 42 to 17 to 6 to 23. I go where the ideas take me on any given day. Although I do pick a particular chapter or scene to start with each day, sometimes something will occur to me and I shift over to “there”…and then either keep on going, or go back to my starting scene/chapter.

Selfishly, I love this because it validates my own process. I mean, if someone can write fabulous fairy tales this way, surely the rest of us can too, right? Anyway…

Who do you write for (your audience or who you hope to reach)?

Now that you ask, and make me think about it, the answer is: neither.

I’m a talented writer. I have good, sometimes great ideas, and I’m good…sometimes achieving moments of “great”…at expressing those ideas. (You will, of course, not be surprised to learn that in Net-speak, the acronym I use is: IMNHO.)

I have no idea who my audience is, i.e., the folks who have bought and read my books. I haven’t made any attempt to figure out the basics, much less the detailed demographics. I know of no one, individually or as a group, that I particularly want to reach. I simply don’t think in terms of “I need to get this before X group, because it will be meaningful to them, or the story will affect them in some positive way.”

The reality? I write for myself. There’s a story inside my head…there are many stories inside my head or partially on electronic “paper” stored in a hard drive (and backed up to several!)…that wants out. Mike the Manly Muse is there to help get the story fully told, revise it, tweak it, polish it.

Then share it.

I know I don’t write the stories the whole world reads (Thank you, Mr. Manilow!), but I do write some that some people read. And for the most part, enjoy. I consider myself fortunate when that happens. So it’s unlikely I’m going to be changing my ways and writing “for” anyone other than me.

Wow, I think this should be very encouraging to a lot of people. Many of us struggle with “target audience” and fret over it. But this makes me think there’s hope beyond the fear.

So tell us, how do you write your books?

Usually on a computer.

When I was thirteen (shortly after the Dark Ages ended) my parents got me a manual typewriter, and by the time I got to freshman year, I was typing 30-35 words per minute with the old hunt and peck method. I took typing class my first year. My aunt (the family black sheep because she lived with a lover…gasp!) was a science fiction addict like me and worked as a secretary in a major law firm. She could type 120 words per minute, without a mistake, on a Selectric. (Youngsters, go Google that. *s*)

She was my idol, in more ways than one, and I wanted to emulate her. So I worked hard on practicing typing, and for most of my life I’ve been about a 100 words per minute. With age, that’s slowed to 70 or so.

Of course, to type at that speed while creating you have to have the words all ready in one of Hedley’s “sizzling torrents.” I’ve never really tried to figure out what the real rate would be in “create mode.”

Sometimes, though, I’ll write by hand. I have very legible handwriting (a lost art these days, I fear). I’ll go to dinner at a favorite restaurant, before heading to the theatre, ballet, a concert or something at the arts center down the block. I’ll get there a half hour or so before my reservation, small notebook in the pocket of my sport coat, and sometimes get 500-600-700 words in before dinner.

Or if I’m at the kitchen table, watching TV, I may have a regular pad and write while I watch. (I also read while watching TV, so much so it feels odd if I’m neither reading nor writing as the show goes on.) I admit there are times I get hooked on the show and writing stops, but there are times when I’ve done at that whole 500-600-700 bit at dinner, too.

Bottom line: The easiest and fastest creation is at a computer keyboard.

Hey, I had a typewriter too before getting a computer. I took it with me to college. It was an electric one, though, ’cause I was so hip and modern. I totally relate to feeling that creative itch while enjoying other art forms.

What is your next project?

Getting no way outfinalized and ready for its own September publication and blog tour. I have a series of alternate-history historicals set in “Another England.” The difference is what happened to the sodomy laws (which had a death penalty) in the Restoration, when Charles II took the English throne again. The first two novels, which are out, are The Rake, The Rogue, and The Roué (Regency), and Mr. Felcher’s Grand Emporium, or, The Adventures of a Pair of Spares in the Fine Art of Gentlemanly Photography (Victorian – 1882).

Over the next two years I hope to finish the last two in the series: The Serpent Mark (Regency) and Strathairn’s Warrior (contemporary).

But the closer projects are two fairy tales for 2019: 3 Boars & A Wolf Walk Into A Bar(I’m sure you can figure this one out) and The Truth About Them Damn Goats (as told by the troll). Both books are well along, and their covers are in progress.

That’s an impressive list! You’re welcome here any time to chat about those projects. Personally, I’m pretty excited to see what the troll has to say about those goats. Thanks for stopping by!

Excerpt

The Small Throne Room

The King of Westland’s Castle

Late Morning, the Day The Story Starts

“Sit,” King Hiram commanded. The young man, still head-bowed, didn’t move. The guards squeezed the prisoner’s biceps, half-marching, half-dragging to the chair at the opposite end of the table from the king. With four guard hands occupied by flesh or chains, the difficulty in moving the chair was obvious. The wizard’s spell removed the chains; they reappeared with a clunk!on the floor beside the table.

The guard on the young man’s left pressed a dagger-point against his throat. The other guard released him, stepped behind the chair and pulled it enough away for the young man to be maneuvered in front of it. Rough hands on shoulders forced him down. It was, of course, only happenstance the knifepoint nicked the neck, a drop of blood appearing when the blade was removed.

The recent command not to hurt the prisoner apparently didn’t apply to chairs in which the prisoner was sitting. The force used to propel it toward the table would have crushed the young man’s fingers if he’d rested them on the arms when he sat. Fortunately, his hands were in his lap. The young man’s head remained down as he was in effect caged by the chair and table.

He raised his head, looking straight ahead, but Hiram and his advisors could see he wasn’t seeing anything then present in the room.

Beneath the dirt, bruises, scrapes and crusted blood he was handsome. Sharp cheekbones, aquiline nose, thin lips, a faint cleft in his chin. Brilliant green eyes, flecked with gold. Unusual long hair tumbling near his shoulders, red-brown strands mixed with varying shades of gold. There was something almost familiar… The king chased a wisp of memory, but lost it.

The young man tilted his chin up enough to look at the king, apparently believing if cats could, so could he. There was no cringing in those eyes, no shame, no embarrassment. No anger or resentment. Perhaps, though, a tiny glimmer of…interest. As if this was some grand adventure and he needed to absorb everything happening to and around him for later remembrances.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be remembering anything again, in the not too distant future. A man doesn’t when his head has been severed from his neck, or he’s been hanged until a neck-snap or slow strangulation ends him. Hiram realized he didn’t remember what death the law required. He would, he knew, have to check.

In silence, the young man lifted his hands, and pushed the long, thick hair behind his ears, each movement telling a story of strain and pain. As did his face. One eye was swollen almost shut; a cut on his forehead still oozed blood; there was dirt on the bruising on cheeks and jaw; one lip was split.

“Captain Nichols!”

“Sire.”

“Did he resist arrest?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Did the prince do this?” The king refused to let himself display the tiniest glimmer of hope the answer was “yes.” The hope Henry fought back.

“Ah…no, Sire.”

“Did he attempt to flee and have to be captured?”

“He is as the Guards found him on their arrival. I am—”

The young man interrupted with a laugh—a bright, beautiful baritone, filling the room with a joy entirely out of place in the circumstances.

The king’s low and angry voice in turn smashed the laughter. “You think all this is a joke?”

The young man blinked. “No, Your Majesty. I just thought it was funny someone thought I might run away. Only a coward runs, when he knows he’s done no wrong. I did what was right.”

“You struck my son.”

The young man shrugged. “I’ll strike any bully beating a child.”

Someone in the room gasped. The king merely thanked the Thirty-Nine it wasn’t him and pretended he hadn’t heard.

But as Hiram spoke he realized he was defending his son because of a father’s obligation, not from a belief in his innocence. “Prince Henry is my heir. He would never—”

“He did.” Kings do not flabbergast easily. Hiram was rendered so. Rogermight interrupt him in the privacy of the royal chambers, but elsewhere? No one dared. Until the young man.

Who had no idea what he was facing; had no idea of the inevitable outcome of his admission of guilt. Hiram did not need to hear more. The law was clear. The punishment was clear.

Yet if he was compelled to do as the law demanded, he would at least learn the truth first.

“Do you have any witnesses?”

The young man’s response was a scoffing, “Of course. Anyone there will tell you…” His voice faded away. “But they won’t, will they? He’s a prince, I’m a foreigner, and they’ll only tell you what a kingly father wants to hear: his son is as pure and innocent as the drifting…slush would be, in a kingdom where snow is possible.”

The chin-tilt this time was defiant. “So. What’s the penalty in this kingdom for saving a child from a beating which might have left him crippled?”

“Death.”

The young man paled, but didn’t flinch, and when he moved his hands to the table, there was no trembling.

Nor was there any in his voice. It was calm, almost matter-of-fact, and he didn’t avert his eyes from the king’s. “Interesting. I thought to rescue a child and instead I start a war.”

Old Moldy heard a threat and started to bluster. Hiram heard a statement of fact, or what the young man believed was truth. He told Old Moldy “No!” and the Chancellor slumped back in his chair.

“A man admits to a crime in my kingdom, for which the law demands the severest penalty. Why should anyone go to war over just punishment?” Everyone heard the silent question, “Who are you your death would cause a war?”

The young man’s bow—so far as he could in his seating situation—was formal. An objective observer might have called it regal.

“Your Majesty, permit me to introduce myself. I am Danilo ys Daeaen ys Cirill. I am the only grandson of the Duke of Avann.” The young man shrugged. “They call me the Heir of Avann.”

Giveaway

Eric is giving away two backlist eBook titles to one lucky winner with this tour. Enter via Rafflecopter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author

Eric is a Midwesterner, and as Lady Glenhaven might say, “His first sea voyage was with Noah.” He started reading at five with one of the Andrew Lang books (he thinks it was The Blue Fairy Book) and has been a science fiction/fantasy addict ever since. Most of his writing is in those (MM) genres.

The exceptions are his Another England (alternate history) series: The Rake, The Rogue and the Roué(Regency novel), Mr. Felcher’s Grand Emporium, or, The Adventures of a Pair of Spares in the Fine Art of Gentlemanly Portraiture(Victorian), with no way out(Regency) coming out a month after Of Princes.

Two more fairy tales are in progress: 3 Boars & A Wolf Walk Into A Bar (Eric is sure you can figure this one out), and The Truth About Them Damn Goats(of the gruff variety).

Now all he has to do is find the time to write the incomplete stuff! (The real world can be a real pain!)

Social Media

Facebook Author Page | Twitter

Tour Stops

August 20 – The Novel Approach
August 20 – Stories That Make You Smile
August 20 – Sue Brown’s Stories
August 21 – dream, love, imagine
August 22 – MM Midnight Cafe
August 23 – Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words
August 24 – MM Good Book Reviews
August 25 – Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author
August 26 – Queeromance Ink
August 27 – Wcked Faerie’s Tales & Reviews
August 28 – Drops of Ink
August 29 – Matt Doyle Media
August 30 – Joyfully Jay
August 31 – Romance Across the Rainbow
September 1 – My Fiction Nook
September 2 – Love That’s Out Of This World
September 3 – kittenwylde
September 4 – Love bytes
September 5 – Cate Ashwood
September 6 – Queer Sci Fi
September 7 – Jessie G. Books
September 8 – A.M. Leibowitz
September 9 – Bayou Book Junkie

Author Interview: Brenda Murphy

Books, Featured

About the Book

Title: Knotted Legacy

Author: Brenda Murphy

Publisher: NineStar Press

Publication Date: September 10, 2018

Length: 65k

Genre: erotic romance

Category: F/F, F/F/F, contemporary romance, bdsm

Content note: contains depictions of hot wax play, blood play, rope play, collaring, kidnapping and forced captivity

Purchase Link

NineStar Press

Synopsis

Martha McLeod, Head Mistress of Rowan House, Skye’s most exclusive pleasure house, is heartbroken.

Frustrated and lonely after a bitter split with her lover, she departs Rowan House for Lake Como, Italy to seek solace at the feet of Madam Givernay, keeper of Martha’s deepest secret. Lake Como and Madam’s attention is the perfect balm for Martha’s broken heart, until she meets Mistress Lucia Coruso.

Captivated by Lucia’s regal elegance and cool demeanor, Martha is torn between her desire for Lucia and the fear her secret will be revealed. When an extortionist threatens to destroy Rowan House, Martha and Lucia must join forces to save it.

Interview

Today we have Brenda Murphy here to talk about life, writing, and her new novel. Welcome! Let’s get right to it. How and why did you choose your genre?

I grew up reading everything, and when I was twelve a friend at school handed me a romance, and I was hooked. I liked that no matter what there would be a happy ending. As a young queer person finding any stories that featured queer characters with happy endings was difficult. When I finally found lesbian romance I read everything I could find. I want people like me to know you can have happy endings, no matter what life throws at you. I wanted to give back, and if even one person reads my work and feels seen, and hopeful that life can be good and they can have a happy ending I will have accomplished what I wanted to with my storytelling.

That’s a great goal, and I’m confident people are indeed feeling seen and hopeful. How else do you hope your writing influences other people?

I want my readers to have hope, to laugh, to cry, to blush, and ultimately enjoy the character’s growth through the story. I want them to know that no matter what they can have happy endings too. I hope that women 40 plus will see themselves and know that happy endings are not just for 20 somethings.

Oh, man. That really speaks to me as a 40-something, especially when it comes to queer lit. What else do you use to immerse yourself in the story (music, visuals, etc.)?

I find images/pictures or film clips that become my characters in my mind. After I’ve done the character work, I chose a theme song for each main character, one for the overall tome of the book and then make a playlist specific for that book. I listen to it every time I sit down to work, and it instantly gets me into the story, and the words flow.

Music is a really powerful tool. Okay, ready for some Word Sprints? Here we go! Plotter or pantser?

Plotser, my outline is more like a garden trellis or the shot list in an unscripted/improve film. Once I start writing the characters, take over, and I hold on for the ride.

Coffee or Tea?

It depends on my mood and accessibility. At home I drink tea most often.

As a kid, were you a Goody-Goody or a Wild Child?

A total Wild Child, still am. Been there done that, effed it up twice and have all the t-shirts.

About the Author

Brenda Murphy writes short fiction and novels. She loves tattoos and sideshows and yes, those are her monkeys. When she is not loitering at her local tea shop and writing, she wrangles two kids, one dog, and an unrepentant parrot. She reviews books, blogs about life as a writer with ADHD and publishes photographs on her blog Writing While Distracted. You can find her on Facebook by clicking here.

Books

Knotted Legacy

Both Ends of the Whip

The Sum of the Whole

ONE

Dominique and other stories

Social Media

Website | Publisher | Facebook Author Page | Twitter | Amazon Author Page

WIPpet Wednesday: Something to talk about

Books, Writing

Happy Wednesday! I almost forgot to post this. Tomorrow is the first day of school for my kids: 8th and 10th grade. (For people unfamiliar with the US school system, my kids are 15 and 13.) Lots to do to get ready.

Meanwhile, I’m making very slow progress on my WIPs. Today, I’m actually writing a bit in Minuet. Some of the characters have been chatty lately, and Amelia’s frank and open nature is helping her friends find new dimensions to their relationships. I didn’t expect that, and I’m not sure Amelia did either!

Anyway, since everyone seemed okay with last week’s open conversation, I’ll share a bit more of it this week. I didn’t set out writing this to be “educational” or anything. It came from a conversation ages ago with some ex-religious friends who were lamenting how she wished she could’ve had these types of conversations with her friends. So I wrote women doing that because it should happen far more often.

WIPmath: 9/5/2018 = 9 paragraphs of dialog, +1 bonus because it’s the first post of the month.

They were quiet for a minute before Cassie spoke. “When was the first time you figured out masturbation?”

“Thirteen,” Gemma said. “This girl at school told me about sneaking a sex positions book her parents had so she could look at the dongs. I found out my parents had the same book.”

“I was in high school,” Laura admitted. “I didn’t get any tingly feels from boys, so I thought something was wrong. Finally figured out I was going after the wrong gender.”

“I think I was about five or six and realized I could use my Barbie’s feet.” When everyone else just stared at Amelia, she shrugged. “It’s not like I really understood it until I was a lot older.”

“We should have one of those sex toy parties,” Gemma suggested.

“Oh, God. No.” Amelia groaned. “Those are for repressed middle class white women.” She had the sense to feel embarrassed when Marlie’s face fell.

“That was me. I grew up like that. Like Laura, I thought something was wrong, but it’s because I did like getting off. I would do it and then feel so guilty, like everyone at my church youth group was going to know just by looking at me. Any time we prayed silently to confess our sins to God, that’s the one I used. I asked God to make me stop wanting to.” Marlie’s voice broke.

“Holy shit,” Amelia said. “I’m sorry.”

Laura handed Marlie a tissue. “So how did you overcome it? I eventually just had to tell my religious family to go fuck themselves. Haven’t spoken to them in years.”

Marlie wiped her eyes. “I had sex with Trevor. It was the summer we were both eighteen, and…” She trailed off, looking at Nia to see if she was going to affirm the no-menfolk rule; she didn’t. “It was a relief, actually. The world didn’t end.”

Like what you read? Be sure to check out the other entries and add your own. Just post a bit of your WIP, connect it to the date, and link up with us. Many thanks to Emily Wrayburn for giving us this space. Happy reading and writing!

Author Interview: KD Hume

Books, Featured

About the Book

Title: Persons of Consequence

Author: K.D. Hume

Publication Date: December 29, 2017

Length: 300 pages

Categories: fiction, literary, new adult, college, cult, bisexual, coming of age, lgbt, queer, sapphic, satire

Goodreads (link)

Purchase Link

Amazon

Synopsis

Dissatisfied with her mediocre college life, Mildred distracts herself with Lucia Miller, millennial muse and mystery girl. Their fragile friendship is threatened when a charismatic philosopher draws Lucia into a burgeoning cult in the woods. As tensions and passions spark, Mildred becomes desperate to protect Lucia from her most ardent admirers.

Interview

Today K.D. Hume has stopped by to tell us a bit about life, writing, and her novel, Persons of Consequence. Welcome! Let’s start off with a more broad question. Are there any common themes you see in your work?

Manipulation is a problem I can’t stop turning over in my mind, and I think that shows in my novels. I’ve always wanted to know how predators act, and why they act the ways they do, and how they silence their victims. I’ve read, and observed manipulation, and like most people, I’ve also experienced it. That’s led me to an understanding of manipulation which has been extremely useful in writing both minor and major villains, and is honestly one of the driving forces behind my writing. I can’t think of a villain I’ve written who isn’t horrifically manipulative, and that’s purposeful. Evil, to me, is about taking choice away. Some of my villains are subtle, and some are cartoonishly, mustache-twirling evil, but I always want people to be able to recognize my villains in the manipulators they might encounter in their lives.

Similarly, belief is something I’m always trying to puzzle out: both my own, and others’. Religious and ideological movements have always fascinated me. As a child of the Bush Era, I like to see how someone’s beliefs line up against their actions. I love little moments of hypocrisy: someone passionately pontificating on the poisons of processed food before rushing outside to smoke an unfiltered cigarette. We’re all only human, but I like exploring the inner lives of those struggling to live within their beliefs, and those who most certainly do not. Besides, strong, conflicting beliefs are perfect fertilizer for drama, although I’m also a fan of throwing some truly questioning characters into the mix.

Between these two themes, it was probably inevitable that my first book would be about the meteoric rise of a cult in a subculture much like my own.

Oh, wow. Those are themes near and dear to my own heart too. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who is fascinated by these tensions.

With that said, where do you look for inspiration for new stories?

Dreams. History. Coincidence. Wistfulness.

Combined, I suppose I could make a claim that I look for new stories in Jung’s collective unconscious. Almost all my story ideas start with an image from a recent dream, or maybe something I heard right before I woke. Then I’ll see a news article online, or a painting I’d never heard of in an art gallery I hadn’t planned on entering, or I’ll misunderstand the plot of a movie and be annoyed because what I had in mind was more interesting, and the elements will click, and I’ll have a story concept.

That’s when the real work begins. Story ideas are easy to come by, but in terms of inspiration for hammering out plots and world-building I rely on non-fiction reading, documentaries, and listening to drunk people talk about their passions at parties. That last bit is invaluable. Enthusiastic inebriated people are a resource that no writer should overlook.

Ha! I agree with you there. People in almost any uninhibited state, really. What advice would you give someone starting out?

Leave fear behind. Write everything that calls to you, and don’t be afraid to publish. Fight against the social forces which say you should only make art if people already value what you make. It will get easier, and you will get better, but keeping yourself locked away until you’ve achieved perfection will actually only lead to stagnation. It would be a shame to let your voice die out.

Wise words.

Time for some Word Sprints! What’s your favorite movie?

I’m currently obsessed with The Love Witch for its gorgeous femme aesthetic and quiet, intense anger.

In school, were you more academic, artsy, or athletic?

I was an academic kid trying desperately to suppress her artistic goth side.

What superpower do you wish you had?

Hydrokinesis would be pretty cool, and would fit my aquatic lifestyle.

Awesome, and thank you for stopping by. Let us know about any future releases.

About the Author

A queer bundle of nerves sprung from the tidal flats of Puget Sound, K. D. Hume grew up immersed in the magic and mystery of the Pacific Northwest. A graduate of the Evergreen State College and a voracious reader with a taste for science fiction and fantasy, Hume’s fictional works trend toward solarpunk and Pacific Northwest Gothic.

Hume spends the majority of her free time swimming across nearby bodies of water, sometimes while wearing a mermaid tail. The rest of her time is spent reading in the bath, doing witchcraft, and convincing friends and partners to go on unusual adventures.

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DRUMBEAT: release day & interview on the WROTE podcast!

Books

Happy book birthday to my 8th novel, Drumbeat (Notes from Boston #3)!

As part of release week, I had the privilege of being interviewed for the WROTE podcast, which you can listen to here or follow this link. What a great conversation about writing bisexual characters, non-binary representation, and invisible disability.

You can also read Jayne’s review on the website, and be sure to enter the giveaway below.

Title: Drumbeat

Series: Notes from Boston (#3)

Date: September 1, 2018

Length: 231 pages

eBook ISBN: 978-1-944591-78-6

print ISBN: 978-1-944591-51-9

Category: LGBTQ Literature, Gay Romance

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Synopsis

Excerpt

After the class left, Jamie waited for Cian to tidy the stage. He’d been to the Dyer Theater before, to watch Nate. Not that Jamie was a huge fan of opera, but Nate and his co-director, Del, were outstanding at what they did. Whether Jamie liked the music or not, queer opera was unique and fun.

Jamie stood at the edge of the stage, looking out into the empty auditorium. He couldn’t picture himself in such a venue, doing what Cian or Nate did. Sure, he’d been on stage plenty of times, both in school and at the various bars where the Creepy Crullers played. He’d also been a model/actor, but that was a much different set, and they had multiple chances to get their performance right. This was different.

There was a clacking against the floorboards behind Jamie, and he turned around. Cian still had on his jig shoes, and when Jamie looked at him, he showed off a few lively steps with a twinkle in his eye. Jamie had seen tap dancers before, like Izzy when he was performing as TaTa. The sound of the jig shoes was different from the bright clicks of the metal taps. The fiberglass was richer, more full. Somehow, though, it was lighter the way Cian did it, every step paired with a little jump.

His posture was different too, Jamie noted. Narrower, with his shoulders, hips, and feet lined up vertically rather than horizontally. He kept his arms still at his sides and his back straight. After a moment or two, Jamie could tell the difference when Cian switched from tapping only on the balls of his feet to using the whole shoe to stomp.

Want to try? Cian signed after he came in for a landing in front of Jamie. He still had his hearing aids out.

No! Jamie tried to shift away, to make it clear he wasn’t up for such a thing. He couldn’t possibly hope to learn that skill.

Cian grinned. Please? It’s easy. I’ll show you after I change shoes.

Jamie looked at his own feet, thinking it didn’t look particularly easy. Should I change?

You don’t have to. I have extra if you want. Cian ducked into the wings and grabbed his bag. What size?

Do I have to wear the ones with all the ties? Jamie couldn’t picture himself trying to get them done up without getting tangled in the long laces.

G-h-i-l-l-i-e-s? Cian finger-spelled it, and Jamie wondered how it was pronounced. No. Only girls, unless you’re in Scotland. Here. Cian reached into the bag and tossed over a pair of soft black shoes. Try those.

Jamie toed off his sneakers and slipped on the black shoes. They were a little loose, but they fit well enough and conformed to his feet. The thin material felt strange after wearing street shoes. He faced Cian and waited for instructions, his heart beating rapidly and his palms sweaty.

Cian explained the steps and what he called them, then demonstrated for Jamie. He made it look easy. Cian was muscular but not lanky; he wasn’t built the way Jamie envisioned most dancers. Yet he was light on his feet, almost springy. He always looked to Jamie as though he was flying when he danced at Grand Slam. Here on this stage, he toned it down a bit for Jamie’s benefit, the same way he did with his students.

Jamie tried to imitate the pattern of steps. The first one he got all right, but by the second set he’d somehow ended up on the wrong foot. Cian didn’t make fun or chastise him. He showed Jamie again then motioned for him to try. In a short time, Jamie had picked up one of the basic forward steps.

They played around for a bit longer, at which point Jamie’d had enough. He truly wasn’t any kind of dancer, no matter what Cian had tried to tell him. He asked to stop, and Cian praised his effort before accepting the shoes back and tucking them away. He slid his hearing aids back in and sat down to put his street shoes on.

“Not bad, for a first time,” he told Jamie as he laced his sneakers.

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Win an ebook set of the first 3 Notes from Boston books!

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