Arts

Rainbow Snippets: Drive Shaft

Happy Saturday! I know it’s been a rough week for a lot of us. I hope everyone is hanging in there.

This is probably my last snippet of An Act of Devotion, since my book tour ends tomorrow. Next week, I’ll be on vacation—family trip to Cedar Point in Ohio! First trip we’ve taken together in years that wasn’t just to visit family. Obviously I will be a bit busy. After that, I have other things to post snippets from, so stay tuned.

This section requires a tiny bit of explanation. Both AJ and Adam are graduate students working for the college. I did this job when I was a grad student, so much of what happens is based on personal experience. In this section, AJ is talking to his co-graduate assistant. The class she’s taking—and the requirements—was a real one I took. We had to plan and carry out a program in one of the dorms. And yes, we really did have beer goggles, condoms, and an anatomical model for the demonstration. 10 points for Gryffindor if you catch what the name refers to.

Carrie appeared in the doorway. “My curriculum development professor is having us run a mini program in the residence halls to practice before the health fair. We took a class survey, and most of us wanted to do it on alcohol consumption. We’re using the mocktails as a jumping off point.” She stepped past AJ and into the stock room.“Do you need other stuff, too?” he asked. “There’s a bunch of good materials.”

Carrie emerged with the laminated cards in hand. “For the fair, yeah. I’ll want the beer glasses and the dick model.”

AJ snickered. “I should find the guy I gave the glow-condoms to. He didn’t want them after all. You could use them for the demonstration instead of wasting decent ones.”

“Oh, those are the worst!” Carrie said then clapped a hand over her mouth. She slowly lowered her fingers. “Not that I would know, of course.”

“Of course,” AJ said. “They’d be fine for the demo, though. I doubt Drive Shaft cares what you put on him.”

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!

No more hedging. No more hiding. No more closets.

News, Odds 'n' Ends, Social Justice, Writing

I haven’t exactly known what to say about the shooting in Orlando. I’ve mostly been sharing other people’s words because I think they’ve said it better than I could. Heck, even some allies have said it better than I could, and I’m a card-carrying member of the LGBTQIA community. Maybe being a step closer or a step removed means being able to find one’s words more easily; I don’t know.

Even now, I wasn’t planning on posting. After all, anyone who has cared to follow my blog, my writing career, my Twitter, my Facebook page, or interact with me in person on a level greater than “how’s the weather” pretty much knows where I stand. And then I read this post by the marvelous Hans Hirschi. Go read it. It’s long, but it’s completely worth the time it takes. My thoughts can wait until you’re finished.

Are you back? Okay. So, what really struck me was the part about making heteros feel comfortable. I can’t count the number of times I’ve done that. Or I’ve been embarrassed because the heteros got uncomfortable around me. Like I needed to apologize. I’ve been doing that dance since I was 13.

I used to get teased, back in school, for being a “lesbian.” Never mind the fact that I didn’t even identify as bisexual back then! I didn’t really have a concept of anything but gay and straight, and I knew I liked boys…a lot. Okay, I wasn’t totally boy crazy. But I had plenty of crushes! Even had a boyfriend in ninth grade, and I had a years-long crush on my bestie (er…if he’s reading this, as we’re still friends on Facebook, he now knows this about me…sorry!).

Except really, they weren’t totally wrong. Only I minimized it, hid it, denied it…all to make them more comfortable. To make them believe I wasn’t going to perv on them in the locker room (good grief, none of them were that special) or try to grope them or whatever (yeah, real things they suggested I might do). And naturally, my involvement in a religious community stamped out any sense that it might really be okay to like girls (gentle reminder, I had no concept of other genders back then).

My first real crush on another woman was in college. I won’t embarrass the poor woman (also still a friend) by giving clues about who she is. However, I was still very much keeping tight control on all of my feelings. I was still worried I might make someone “wonder” about me…make them uncomfortable. Funny thing is, of all the people I could have crushed on, I picked a person who is now herself out. Too bad neither of us was ready when we were eighteen.

To this day, I tend to minimize everything. After all, does it matter? I’m married to a man. I don’t want anyone to worry that I’m leaving my spouse or that I might be creeping on them or thinking about them in a decidedly more than friendly way. I can pretend that I’m just your average suburban WifeMommy.

Only I can’t. I have my first genuine lesbian romance coming out (heh) in July. Sure, I’ve dabbled. I’ve written three flash fictions (all under 2k words). I have side characters who are bisexual and lesbian women. But something in me stopped short at anything more because it might make people uncomfortable. It might make people see me differently. It might make people hate and fear me.

If I were in the wrong place at the wrong time, it might make someone take violent action against me.

A man shot up a club full of Latinx LGBTQ+ people reportedly because they made him uncomfortable. Perhaps this was because, as his father suggested, he didn’t like seeing them being publicly affectionate. Perhaps this was because, as other media has suggested, he had internalized homophobia. Since we don’t have him here to ask, we can only speculate. The bottom line, though, is that he was uncomfortable with us enough to want to do lethal harm.

Look, I know that personal safety is a must. You’ll never find me trying to convince anyone they should be public in any way about their identity because it can be deadly. Hell, it can be deadly if the only place you’re out is where you theoretically should have been safe.

But I’m tired of playing that game in my everyday life. I’m tired of locking things away, compartmentalizing them, pretending they don’t matter, all to make heteros feel all right about sharing a room with me. Anyone who is deeply bothered by the fact that I love people who are not men can feel free to find other friends to hang out with. And please don’t worry, if you’re the sort of person who feels weird around me, there’s a better than average chance you’re not a person I would develop romantic feelings for, trust me.

Being part of the writing community, in particular LGBTQIA lit and more specifically m/m romance, I’ve seen a lot of things that make me feel uncomfortable as a non-hetero person. There is a disturbing amount of misogyny, biphobia and sapphobia (fancy word for hating women who love women, in case you wondered). This is not coming from gay men reading m/m romance, for the most part—it’s coming from straight women. While it’s not everyone, it is a sizable chunk of the community. Until now, I’ve catered to that attitude. I’ve tried to make hetero people feel comfortable by not speaking up and by sticking to writing about men.

I’m done. I can’t spend my life making hetero people happy. Not among my real-life friends and not in my reading/writing community. If people are going to get twitchy when I write about queer people who don’t happen to be men, then so be it.

As for the rest of the world, the ones who already hate and fear all LGBTQIA people, I don’t know what to say to that. I know I’m at risk because sometimes people “read” me. I got yelled at from a car window the other day, and not the typical catcalling and “smile for me, baby.” No, the person clearly assumed I was queer and yelled a slur at me while I was walking my dog. On my street. In broad daylight. Because I made him “uncomfortable.”

I don’t really know how to end this, except to say that I’m past caring whether heteros are “uncomfortable.” There is no possible way to satisfy all the conditions which would make them “comfortable” anyway. Instead, I’ll be over here, living my life, writing my words. Maybe I’m finally ready to write the bi/lesbian FF novel that’s been hiding in my story morgue for two years and let it out for the world to see.

Go forth, my out and proud LGBTQIA family, and make the haters uncomfortable.

Book Review: Mistress’s Release by Anastasia Vitsky

Books, Reviews

Title: Mistress’s Release

Author: Anastasia Vitsky

Publication Date: June 16, 2016

Cover: https://governingana.files.wordpress.com/2016/05/mistresss-release-200×300.jpg

Publisher: self-published

Genre(s): Contemporary Romance, Lesbian Romance, GLBT Romance

Heat Rating: 2 flames – light BDSM and spanking elements with sexual scenes

Page Count: 134

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30375176-mistress-s-release

Two women. Two pasts. One destiny.

Trinity survived an abusive fundamentalist father, needy siblings, an uncaring mother, and a lifetime of fear that she will go to hell for being a lesbian. Never mind her craving for kink and the intricate dynamics of BDSM.

Graciela, on the other hand, came of age following a picture-perfect childhood complete with 4-H, cornfields, and doting parents. Successful in her chosen field, she’s established a thriving overseas practice as a professional domme.

Now, with Trinity forgiven for cheating a decade ago, the two women are finally happy. But before returning to America, Trinity receives contact from her family: They want a reunion. Gracie hits the roof.

Her lover’s family almost killed her once. Wasn’t that enough? Graciela wants Trinity safe at all costs. She issues an ultimatum: No contact, even if it means cutting ties with her family forever.

But Trinity’s longed for this moment half her life. Family’s family, no matter what they do. She loves Gracie, but no one can replace parents. Why can’t Gracie understand? She has pledged to obey, but she can’t make this sacrifice.

Can Gracie and Trinity’s love for each other overcome this impasse? Or will happily ever after turn into a parting of ways?

I’ve read the whole Mistress series to date, and I can say for sure this is my favorite. It’s raw and sensitive and entirely wonderful.

Readers should be aware there are some heavy themes, including religiously-based abuse. For anyone capable of reading the material, it’s worth it to dig through the layers until the end. The way Trinity finds healing on her own and the way Trinity and Gracie find it together is stunningly beautiful.

As with many of her works, the author weaves in complex themes of sin, repentance, and forgiveness. Also like many of her stories, this digs underneath the shiny surface of cliched penitence. The end goal is not to forgive and forget but for Trinity and Gracie to achieve true reconciliation.

This story is particularly moving, delving into complex issues of family dynamics, violence, and control. A lot of Trinity’s psychology is revealed here, page by page. As she unravels, the careful structures she and Gracie have built also come undone. Watching them rebuild from a more authentic place is satisfying.

The writing, as always, is superb. There are so many brilliantly crafted passages. Toward the beginning, Trinity’s memory of being a child in her parents’ home comes to life in vivid detail. Having spent enough time among religious fundamentalists, it’s almost painfully real the way Trinity experiences her home life. There’s a lot to unpack there, and many ways in which her parents have irreparably harmed her. Yet ultimately, she’s still able to come to a place of hope. Her resilience is remarkable, like most survivors of such horrors.

Despite the great strides Trinity makes, it’s Gracie who I think grows the most. She’s let the wrong emotions rule her in her relationship with Trinity, and watching the beautiful, compassionate woman emerge from beneath her stern exterior is exciting and plain wonderful.

Overall, this is one I will need to read again and take time processing. While some of the content may be triggering for readers, it may also provide an avenue of comfort and catharsis. I love the way the light BDSM elements are expertly blended with the psychological and emotional healing. This is not a tired, trope-filled “rescue” story. It’s a genuine hurt/comfort narrative told with sincerity and compassion.

For powerful themes, careful handling of sensitive subjects, and an emotionally satisfying conclusion, this gets 10/10 fountain pens.

All Romance: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mistresss-Release-Anastasia-Vitsky-ebook/dp/B01GVQD0ZS/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mistresss-Release-Anastasia-Vitsky-ebook/dp/B01GVQD0ZS/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mistresss-Release-Anastasia-Vitsky-ebook/dp/B01GVQD0ZS/

Amazon Canada: https://www.amazon.ca/Mistresss-Release-Anastasia-Vitsky-ebook/dp/B01GVQD0ZS/

Amazon Germany: https://www.amazon.de/Mistresss-Release-Anastasia-Vitsky-ebook/dp/B01GVQD0ZS/

I check my email. There, at the top of the inbox, sits the same message I’ve pretended to ignore for a week. The subject line is simple, short, and innocuous.

Re: Hi

At last, I click to open the email. Will it tell me to get lost, drop dead, or repent? No, none of the above.

Hello. Trinity.

We have been praying for you all these years. Praise to God you are safe. Mama cried when I told her about your email. We will have a dinner for you when you return.

May God bless you and keep you safe, dear sister.

Jacob

I blink, and I blink again. Still, I stare at this incomprehensible message. Has my family forgotten I refused to marry a man? Have they prayed all these years for anything besides the saving of my soul? No talk about sin, repentance, or running away? They’ve gone insane.

Gracie pads into the hallway, worry lines creasing her forehead. “It’s late,” she says, even though she can’t know the truth of her words.

It is, indeed, late. Over a decade late, but it’s not never. “Just checking email,” I say, keeping my tone light. I dispense with the pretense of homework. No one could listen to childish jingles set to the ABC song.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

It probably should, but that’s not happening. I promised Gracie no secrets. If we’re going to make this relationship work, we have to be on the same page even when I don’t like it.

“I’m going to see my family when we go back.” I try to make my voice clear, loud and certain. Or at least I hope it comes across that way because my chest pounds. It’s my family, right? My decision.

Cookie queen, wooden spoon lady, and champion of carbs, Anastasia Vitsky specializes in F/F fiction. She hates shoes and is allergic to leather. When not writing about women who live spankily ever after, she coordinates reader and author events such as Spank or Treat, Love Spanks, and Sci Spanks. Her favorite event is Ana’s Advent Calendar, a month-long celebration of books, community, and making a difference.

She is too afraid to watch Doctor Who, but she adores The Good Wife and anything with Audrey Hepburn. In her next life, she will learn how to make the perfect pie crust.

Website: https://governingana.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AnastasiaVitsky

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/anastasiapvitsky

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/anastasiavitsky/

Google+: https://plus.google.com/+AnastasiaVitsky

Amazon Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/anastasiavitsky

Goodreads Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6643486.Anastasia_Vitsky

Authorgraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/AnastasiaVitsky

Printable Book List: https://governingana.files.wordpress.com/2016/06/books-by-anastasia-vitsky-in-reverse-publication-order.pdf

What if heterosexuality were a crime? Read Becoming Clissine, the first book in the brand-new Bastia series!

See the book trailer!

Book Review & Author Spotlight: Into Elurien by Kate Sparkes

Books, Reviews

Author: Kate Sparkes

Title: Into Elurien

Skeleton Key Book Series

One Skeleton Key. Endless Adventures.

https://skeletonkeybookseries.com

When Hazel Walsh discovers a strange key in the attic of the Old Brook Inn, she doesn’t imagine the door it unlocks will lead anywhere special. Though superstitious, she’s never bought into the local stories of fairies, ghosts, and demons. But when she opens the door, she discovers just how wrong she was.

Hazel is dropped into a world in the midst of a revoloution, where monsters have overthrown the humans who once enslaved them. All of the humans, that is, except for Verelle, the cruel sorceress who vanished at the moment of Hazel’s arrival. If Hazel wants any chance of surviving and making it back to her own world, she’ll have to join forces with the amalgus Zinian—horned, winged, and monstrously attractive—to unravel the mystery of Verelle’s disappearance. If they can’t, the fates of two worlds will be at stake.

This book is one part Narnia, one part Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and two parts Where the Wild Things Are, if those were written for adults with a social justice bent. You’ll have to trust me when I say that’s a good thing.

Whatever it was I expected when I picked this up, it was flung out the window as soon as I turned the first page. The set-up takes a bit, but it’s worth it for drawing out the sinister and mysterious atmosphere. I kept wondering when Hazel might disappear into the other dimension. I loved the way all throughout, the tension builds to the violent apex of the showdown with Verelle.

Of late, a number of excellent books and movies have taken a crack at themes such as racism, classism, and other forms of societal oppression. Add this book to the list. The turbulence between the Monsters and the Humans is central to the plot, particularly how Verelle has manipulated the humans’ holy texts to her own ends and led them to commit unspeakable acts against the monsters. Hazel’s journey from defensive (“not all humans”) to understanding to actively taking part in the revolution will feel familiar to anyone who has worked in real-world activism as an ally.

There is also an underlying tone of faith and spirituality, especially with regard to the sacred text Hazel discovers. What I like is that it never feels preachy or as though it’s trying too hard to be an allegory. This paints a vivid word picture of what happens when holy writings fall into hands with the power to use them to do great harm. Although the story reaches different conclusions from what some readers might, it’s at least a call for us to examine our own beliefs and how they might affect the people around us.

I loved the characters. As much as I appreciated Hazel, and as good a narrator I felt she was, I liked many of the other characters as much or more. Of course I loved Zinian, but Auphel was my favorite. There were a number of others I liked as well, but I can’t say too much because I’m afraid it might be spoilers. I’ll leave it that these characters are fully formed—they are not props for Hazel’s transformation from hateful to helpful. Hazel already is who she is, and her journey is about finding the power to use it for good. Nor is it about the monsters learning that some humans are good. Their fight is about finding and vanquishing Verelle. It’s not a light, sweet, feel-good story about acceptance or tolerance; this is a tale about taking an entire community to bring down the real beast.

The writing is superb, flawless from start to finish. I was drawn in, and I admit to reverting to my childhood book-under-the-covers and staying up far too late reading so I could find out what happened next. What an incredible journey.

For brilliant writing, a cast of memorable characters, and a serving of social justice, this gets 10/10 fountain pens.

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FPGX0SW

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1114393489

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/into-elurien

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1123806245

This is a horrible joke. It had to be. I glanced at the faces that made up the crowd, all standing too close for me to get a real handle on where I might be. I had fallen into a room of monsters. The ogre was the largest, but the others were no less fearsome. A man with the head of a bull. A centaur, dressed only in the blood that dripped over her shoulders and breasts. Things I didn’t have words for and couldn’t wrap my mind around.

The cat woman stepped closer, and the knives strapped to her belt clinked together. “I said finish it! This is one of Verelle’s tricks. Hold her.”

“Please,” I begged, feeling half stupid for being so terrified when I knew none of this was real. But it all felt real, from the stone floor to the chill of the air, from the animal smells of sweat and fur to the suffocating tightness in my chest. I fought down panic that was as real as any I’d ever felt. “I don’t know what a Verelle is, and I—”

“Shut up,” the cat ordered, and grabbed my hair to force my head down. “You won’t fool us. We know all of your tricks.”

My body trembled. “I swear, I just opened a door, and I was here…”

Her low growl silenced me.

“Stop.”

A lower voice, more human. I only shook harder. With my head down, I couldn’t see anything but the crowd of feet in front of me parting. I closed my eyes. Something cold touched my chin. Metallic. A blade. I pictured the cat’s great, curved sword, and felt like vomiting as it lifted my chin.

“Look at me,” the human voice ordered.

I forced my eyes open and was confronted by the strangest feet I’d ever seen. Human…ish. Longer toes than normal, with curved claws instead of toenails, and skin covered in tough blue scales to the knees. I didn’t want to look higher, but the sword beneath my chin insisted. My gaze continued up the legs, which I was glad to find were covered by ragged pants from the knees up. Above that, a chest that would have looked comfortingly human if not for the faint blue patina that shaded parts of the bronze skin, or the extra set of muscles under the otherwise highly acceptable pectorals. Spots of blood had dried on his skin. The fingers of the smooth hand that gripped the straight-bladed sword ended in sharp black claws. I let myself look up to the creature’s shoulders, where massive, bat-like black wings arched high behind him. Dark scales dotted their bony parts in patches.

“Look at my eyes,” he ordered, “or die now.” The blade tilted sideways, a reminder of how easily he could follow through on the threat.

I swallowed hard, and the tip of the blade pricked again at my throat. Another deep breath, and I looked up.

I met his eyes, and they were enough to keep me from noticing anything else for several moments. Bright green, and blessedly normal. Not snake eyes, not feline slits for pupils. The thick black eyebrows that topped them furrowed, but seemed more intensely observant than angry.

“Please,” I said again. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

His mouth twisted into a snarl, revealing long, white canine teeth. He turned toward the cat person, and I noted the deep scars that marred his right cheek. “It’s not her.”

When he returned his attention to me, his roughly cut black hair fell over his face. At least, the parts of it that weren’t held behind the thick horns that spiralled back like bony corkscrews from his hairline.

Devil. That name came to me as easily as centaur had, but seemed not entirely right. As he glared down at me, I thought that it might be close enough.

Kate Sparkes lives on the magical island of Newfoundland, where she’s always checking wardrobes, locked doors, and interesting caves to see whether they lead to new worlds. She passes the rest of her time hanging out with her family, reading, walking her dogs, and writing fiction that lets her come very close to escaping reality.

She likes sending treats to newsletter subscribers, so be sure to sign up for bonus content, sneak peeks, advance review copies, news about future books, contests, and more! Visit www.katesparkes.com for details.

website: www.katesparkes.com

facebook: www.facebook.com/katesparkesauthor

Instagram: @kate.sparkes

blog: www.disregardtheprologue.com

Today I’m chatting with Kate Sparkes about writing, life, and their current project. It’s no secret Kate is one of my favorite ~~authors~~ humans, and I’m ridiculously excited to have her here again. The last time she visited was for a guest post a year and a half ago! I think I should’ve had her ’round for tea sooner. Anyway, welcome! Let’s talk a little about Into Elurien.

What inspired you to write this story?

Into Elurien is part of a multi-author series, so I guess my initial inspiration was the “Hey, would you be interested in writing a 30-50K word fantasy romance for this project?” message I got in December. Which, obviously, I was. Every story in the series has a similar element at the beginning that connects them, but then each author was free to create our worlds and characters. So what inspired me to write about monsters and magic and a villain who twisted a religion to suit her?

The monsters were something I hadn’t worked with before, and I liked the idea of exploring a romance with someone who’s not entirely human. I wanted to look at ideas about beauty, and about how myths and stories often hold more truth than the real world seems to. And the bad guy… I have a lot of questions about the development of religions and who gets to say what we’re taught, so that just kind of fell into place as I built the world.

And setting the “our world” part of the story in Newfoundland just felt right. This place is magical.

I sure would love to see it someday. Ah, all the places I need to visit.

Is there a character you feel especially connected to? Why?

I feel connected to a few of them, but Hazel more than most. While she’s unlike me in a lot of ways, I do know what it’s like to feel adrift after having to leave college, to struggle with feeling less than beautiful because of body issues and acne scars, to not feel good enough. And I know what it’s like to push through all of that and grow.

And we share an affinity for f-bombs.

You, Hazel, and me. And my almost-13-year-old. But don’t tell anyone.

What was the hardest part of writing this?

Definitely the time and word count restrictions. I had a very tight deadline on this, barely enough time to go through my full process (including critique partners, professional editing, etc), which I’d never had to deal with before. And I tend to write big books, so keeping it to (around) 50,000 words was a huge challenge. It’s a wonderful story, better than I ever expected it to be, but I wish I’d had a little more room to explore the world and the story’s themes.

Hey, that’s what sequels are for, right?

Choose a favorite line or short passage. What do you like about it?

Hmm. It’s so hard to pick something that’s not a spoiler! But here’s a quiet little moment I like a lot. Much as I love romance, and as huge a part as it plays in all of my stories, I think that friendships and family love are just as important. This particular relationship, between a young woman from our world and a young ogress from another, is one of my favourites I’ve written.

We left the kitchen to visit the orchard, and Auphel gleefully hacked apart far more apples than I needed. I mixed them with butter and something that smelled like cinnamon, then wrapped the mess inside a flat slab of dough.

“That looks horrid,” Auphel noted, though not without great interest. “Humans have such strange tastes.”

“It will probably taste horrid, too. I’ve never been much of a cook. More of a takeout girl.”

Auphel’s confused look led to a discussion about my world that carried us through the time it took the makeshift apple flip to bake… or rather, through the time it took to burn on the outside while remaining raw in the middle, and then through the process of trying again.

Explaining the use of telephones and computers to order food was nearly impossible.

“So it’s like I said. You do know magic.”

“No, we really don’t have it in my world. It’s technology. Research and experimentation and… physics.” I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know how it all works, exactly.”

“But you can talk to another human on the other side of the world. Even see them.”

“Right.”

“Because of the electri-thingy. And machines with tiny parts that remember things without them being written down. They’re just… there.”

I laughed. “There are people in my world who could explain it. I’m just not one of them.”

She gave me a look that said I must be pulling her leg about the whole thing.

I have to agree. I’m a big fan of friendship and family stories as much as romance. I loved the relationship which built between Hazel and Auphel.

Tell us a little about any upcoming projects.

My next project is a mythological dystopian story involving human sacrifice, vengeful gods, a sadistic man who governs a near-perfect society, and a case of mistaken identity. After that I’ll be working on my urban fantasy under a pen name, and then I’ve got all kinds of things planned. A superhero novel, something with a steampunk feel that’s not steampunk, and the next series that’s set in the world of the Bound trilogy. So much to do, so little time to do it!

That’ll keep me in books to read for a while…

How has your life changed since becoming a published author?

My life looks completely different now. I’m contributing financially to the household, which has taken some stress and pressure away from that aspect of my life. I finally feel like I have permission/justification for doing what I love, rather than feeling like I’m stealing time from other things I SHOULD be doing. I’m meeting people I never would have otherwise. And I feel like I’m a better role model for my kids now that they see me doing what I love and following my dreams.

Those are some big, but good, changes!

If you could take a time machine back 10 years, what would you tell your past self?

WRITE MORE CRAP. My biggest regret is not writing for so many years because I felt like I wasn’t good enough for it to be published. Which was true. But the only way you get better is by doing the work, finishing what you start, and doing it again. I lost a lot of years of development because I didn’t understand that hard work is worth far more than talent.

This is something I hear a lot from many authors.

What do you hope people say about you after you’re gone?

That I loved hard, lived the life I felt passionate about, gave what I could, and had an impressive sock collection. And I hope they’ll wonder what my next story would have been, because I aim to grow as a writer with every project.

I’m jealous of your sock collection. And your last thought sums it up perfectly, I think.

Word Sprints!

Plotter or pantser? Plotter! Former pantser.
What’s your favorite of your published works? Sworn. Maybe. I think that series got better as it went along.
What genre (other than your own) do you like to read? I like some literary and historical fiction, but I’m VERY picky! Nothing pretentious, please.
What’s on your playlist? A bit of everything. A lot of My Chemical Romance right now, as I tend to like things 10 years after they’re popular.
What superpower do you wish you had? Shapeshifting into anything I want.

Thanks, Kate! I promise I won’t take so long to have you back next time.

Book Tour: Dead Camp by Sean Kerr

Books

Author: Sean Kerr

Title: Dead Camp

Series: Dead Camp

Book: One

Release Date: January 1, 2016

Pages or Words: 87,422 words, 260 pages

Categories: Dark Themes, Erotica, Fiction, Gay Fiction, Historical, Horror, M/M Romance, Mystery, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires/Demons, Thriller

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6207037.Sean_Kerr

Publisher: Extasy Books

Cover Artist: Latrisha Waters

Eli is an ancient vampire with an ego the size of a planet and a sex drive to match, but his tumultuous past left him broken, so he hides from humanity and cowers from love, left to endure the crushing guilt that haunts his every waking moment. Even his best friend Malachi, a ghost who is hopelessly in love with Eli, remains unaware of all that transpired in London. Malachi can never know the truth.

When the Angel Daniyyel pays an unwelcome visit, Eli must face his secrets, secrets that he has tried so long to hide. To make matters worse, a chance encounter with the most beautiful man he has ever seen shatters his beloved isolation, pushing him into the world of the living once more. Something about this strange man seems so familiar, but Eli can’t even remember who he was before he became a vampire, never mind explain the unwanted emotions the enigmatic stranger ignites in his dead heart. So Eli has a choice—return to the world that ruined him, or continue his self-imposed exile with no hope of salvation.

Extasy books: http://www.extasybooks.com/dead-camp-1/?search=dead%20camp

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ebooks-Dead-Camp-1-Sean-Kerr-ebook/dp/B019EV4DVM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1457650987&sr=8-1&keywords=dead+camp

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Dead-Camp-1-Sean-Kerr-ebook/dp/B019EV4DVM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1457651026&sr=8-1&keywords=dead+camp

Barnes & Noble Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dead-camp-1-sean-kerr/1123242780?ean=2940152564631

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/dead-camp-1

With a sickening wet sound, his body finally broke free of the earth. A cry of agony burst from between his perfect lips and his head fell back against my shoulder. I felt his long eyelashes brush against my neck as his eyes flickered in defiance of the blackness trying to consume him.

“Stay with me fella, stay with me, we’ll be home in a jiffy.”

Home, back to my castle, what the fuck was I thinking? I was out of my little fucking mind. I didn’t know the man. I owed him nothing. I had an Angel in my dining room and a German soldier in my dungeon and to top things off, I lived with a ghost. Yet I still wanted to take him home? No, I was intent on taking him home, I had decided that the moment I saw him.

But why, why should I get involved, why should I tread that path again, the path that could only lead to pain. It always did. And yet, as I held him in my arms I felt it, something inescapable, something that I could not understand, a stirring, a feeling, like something found when all hope of ever finding it had been forgotten. Something complicated.

A tingle of warning trickled up and down my spine making my hair stand on end. I lowered the hunk to the ground, slowly, carefully and whispered into his perfectly shaped ear. “Remain quiet.”

In a flash of lightning speed, I leapt into a tree, clinging with one hand to a thick branch while my legs wrapped around its thick girth. Someone was out there and not just Mr Fuck Me He’s Perfect. The smell of human, living heart pumping human was unmistakable, that incomparable odour carried on the wind to entice my nostrils and excite my senses, and I was dutifully excited. But there was something else there too, a feint undercurrent, an elusive aftertaste that went beyond sweat and skid-marks, an elusive scent that pricked at my memory, the smell of Demon.

I saw him then, a German soldier winding his way through the field of corpses. His uniform, a grey green feldbluse replete with bottle green collar and shoulder straps, made him almost invisible amongst the branches and the sludge. I could not see his face beneath his field cap but I could easily make out the eagle and swastika emblem embroidered on the bottle green cloth and I noted with disgust the Sturmgewehr semi-automatic rifle hanging loosely from his shoulder.

The Nazi stood barely six metres away from my injured future husband. Do not move lovely man, I said to myself, do not move and don’t make a sound and if you can, be still your beating heart, because to me it sounded like a jackhammer pounding through the forest. He was frightened and in pain. His eyes darted everywhere looking for me, desperate for me, pleading for me to drag him out of that Hell.

I saw the agony flash across his face before the sound escaped his lips. My entire body tensed. Too late, the soldier heard his pain.

He was running then, running towards my Adonis in the pit. Without hesitation, I soared through the air and landed with feline grace before him. The soldier fell backwards with a bloodcurdling scream. The rifle landed at my feet and I picked it up, rising to my full magnificent height, slowly and with purpose, relishing every moment of fear that blossomed across the soldiers white features. I snapped the weapon as easily as though it were a twig and threw the shattered weapon at his feet, watching with satisfied relish as he scrabbled backwards in the mud, his mouth curling away from his face as his terror burst from his throat.

“Demon! You are not from the camp. What are you?”

My teeth extended and my eyes flashed black. My Vampire was out. In one swift movement, barely visible to the human eye, I leapt at him, pulling him off the floor with effortless ease, lifting his flailing body high above my head. I threw him with all my might at the nearest tree. His spine snapped with an audible bang as his fragile body wrapped itself backwards around the trunk of the trembling pine, his lifeless body sliding to the ground and my stomach rumbled. Dinner was served.

I think that as I approach that milestone that is fifty, I must be one of the oldest gamers on the face of this earth. Many a day you will find me lashed to my PS4 enjoying a good session of Skyrim. Who doesn’t love a good session of Skyrim?
I love writing—I have done it since I was a child when I would happily write about the latest episode of Doctor Who (Tom Baker in those days) in my schoolbooks. Growing up and becoming a business owner with my friend Jayne left little time to pursue my dream of publication, but of late the desire and the compulsion to put words onto paper have once again dominated my life so that now, my laptop has become surgically fused to my fingertips.
There is something desperately satisfying about telling a story. My fascination with History, Religion and Conspiracy theories have, in this instance, gone hand-in-hand with my love of all things vampire, fantasy, sci-fi and horror. I drove my parents nuts when I was young because that was all I would read about in books, all I would watch on television, but they have held me in good stead, and long may my obsession with the subjects continue, at least, that is, until the day they put me in my own wooden box. And imagination is such a wonderful thing. I once had a rather vivid dream about David Tennant and the Tardis console, but I could not possibly go into details about that here. Let’s just say that my polarity was well and truly reversed.
Dead Camp is just the beginning. I have to check my knickers every day at the thought that this book is now in the public domain. My first book, and I hope the first of many. And to those out there who love to write, who love to transport us to new worlds, or old worlds with a twisted perspective, I say to you keep going. I never thought I would ever see my work available to download, and thanks to eXtasy Books, the dream that I always thought unobtainable has finally come true. So thank you all at eXtasy, I am one happy homosexual thanks to you, and thank you the reader for taking the time to read this strange tale and allowing Eli and the incomparable Malachi into your lives.
And now I really need Skyrim.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sean.kerr.146

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/Dead-Camp-blog-402721546519007/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/sgk69

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6207037.Sean_Kerr

Dead Camp site: http://seankerr5.wix.com/deadcamp

Today I’m chatting with Sean Kerr about writing, life, and their current project. Welcome! Let’s talk a little about Dead Camp.

What inspired you to write this story?

As a gay man, I wanted to tell a story about a gay man from a gay perspective. I am fascinated by history, in particular Hitler’s obsession with the paranormal and the Spear of Destiny, and that fueled Dead Camp and was the springboard from which it was born. Gay Vampires fighting Hitler? Bring it on!

Is there a character you feel especially connected to? Why?

Malachi, the ghost who is unconditionally in love with Eli. He is craving love, craving sexual contact. He needs to be touched, to feel desired, to feel attractive. As a 46 year old gay man, slightly overweight, and very unfit, I can identify. The gay scene, in Wales at least, considers anyone over 30 old, and that really pisses me off. I have lived the gay life, I was in my twenties once, and those looking at me now and wondering where my zimmer frame is should know that they too, will be my age at some point. Life does not end when you hit 40 plus, or 50 plus. Sex does not end, my penis doesn’t drop off, and I like to get drunk and dance the night away as much as anyone else. Oops, was I ranting dear heart? So sorry lol.

What was the hardest part of writing this?

Writing action scenes is tough, fight scenes in particular. All that punching, who threw who where, and who kicked who in the balls. But what I have found particularly challenging, and it surprised me, is writing sex scenes. I have never done that before, and there is some pretty hot stuff through these books, but trying to make them fresh, and different from each other, is really hard! How do you write something that is meant to be erotic and filthy without making someone laugh? I read a certain book, and during a sex scene, the man inserts fingers into her, and she says that she feels like a bowling ball. I laughed so hard that I nearly soiled myself. I had tears of laughter. I laughed for bloody ages. It made me laugh for days. Sadly, though, it was not meant to be funny. So whenever I write a sex scene, I always think bowling ball, and that sobers me up lol.

Choose a favorite line or short passage. What do you like about it?

The sensation of all consuming dread lay heavy in the pit of my stomach, nibbling away at the lining of my spasming organ with sharp, relentless teeth. I felt disorientated, dizzy, my head spinning, on the verge of disgorging my innards in a never-ending pile of steaming lungs and bloodied intestines. All my anxieties laid bare for the world to see in a rush of vomit inducing trepidation that left me exposed and perilously vulnerable.

The floor of my stomach detached and fell away into the folds of my asshole, while my head took off in a dizzying flight of surreal what the fuck? There wasn’t a drug in the world that could hold a candle to that sensation. My hole began to blow kisses like a Gourami and to make matters worse, sweat erupted across every pore of my body to stab at my gorgeous flesh in waves of shivering pinpricks.

And that was how the burning dreams always started, with sick, fuck and stabbing.

This section is from the prologue. I loved writing it because it helped me find my voice. I wanted the book to be hard, visceral, and raw, and the prologue hopefully achieves that. As soon as you read it you think ‘shit, what am I reading?’ It’s rough, tough, and difficult to love, just like Eli in the beginning.

Tell us a little about any upcoming projects.

I am writing Dead Camp 3 as we speak, and there are 2 more in the series to write after that. However, I have my idea file, and there are two projects that I am really looking forward to having a stab at after Dead Camp. I love Vampires, and Dead Camp will see me getting that particular monster out of my system. There is another monster, one of my other favorites, that I have an idea for. It will be a single book, one complete story, at least I think it will, centered around Frankenstein. The other project, which is much bigger, and will be a series, involves Superheroes. They are there, the stories, lurking behind my eyes, and I really hope that I can breathe life into them. We shall see.

How has your life changed since becoming a published author?

My life is now a lot busier! When this all started, I had no idea how much time all the social media stuff would consume, and that really has shocked me. I need to find a better balance there because it is distracting me from my writing, and book 3 will not write itself!

If you could take a time machine back 10 years, what would you tell your past self?

Do not open your business! That may not be strictly fair, because to stay open as long as we have with our Interior Design shop is one hell of an achievement, but my God it has been hard work and traumatic. If I had my time again, I know I would not have done it. If I had a time machine, I would also go back and show myself Dead Camp and do it a lot sooner!

What do you hope people say about you after you’re gone?

I hope they say that I was a nice person. I think that is all any of us can hope for. And when I am dead, it will no longer matter to me, so as long as I am liked in life, as long as I can do the best by my family and friends as I can, then I will die happy. Wow, that’s morbid.

Word Sprints!

What are you currently wearing? Baggy grey trackies and a pink shirt
What genre (other than your own) do you like to read? YA
Do you enjoy watching or playing any sports? Hell no
Do you have any body art? No, never had the guts
What’s one of your hobbies? Card Making

29-Mar: Full Moon Dreaming, Velvet Panic, BFD Book Blog

5-Apr: Rednecks and Romance, Jessie G. Books, Hearts on Fire, The Dark Arts

12-Apr: Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

19-Apr: Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Inked Rainbow Reads, Emotion In Motion, Book Lovers 4Ever

26-Apr: Bonkers About Books, Divine Magazine, Nephy Hart, The Hat Party

3-May: My Fiction Nook, MM Book Escape, Bayou Book Junkie

10-May: Dawn’s Reading Nook, Cathy Brockman Romances, Unquietly Me

17-May: Kirsty Loves Books, The Novel Approach

24-May: Elisa – My Reviews and Ramblings, Havan Fellows

31-May: MM Good Book Reviews, Making It Happen, Love Bytes

7-Jun: Happily Ever Chapter, Alpha Book Club

14-Jun: Molly Lolly, A.M. Leibowitz, Outrageous Heroes

Rafflecopter Prize: eCopy of ‘Dead Camp’ book one

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Book Tour: Set Me Free by Kitty Stephens

Books

Author: Kitty Stephens

Title: Set Me Free

Release Date: June 9, 2016

Pages or Words: 63,000 words

Categories: Contemporary, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Romance

When an affluent college-bound boy falls for a young artist, he must choose between the life that’s been mapped out for him and the chance at true love.

Interlude Press: http://store.interludepress.com/collections/set-me-free-by-kitty-stephens

Amazon: http://amzn.to/20UwPvV

Apple iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/set-me-free/id1115847003?mt=11

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/set-me-free-kitty-stephens/1123831417?ean=2940153030029

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/637568

All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-setmefree-2049092-149.html

IndieBound: www.indiebound.org/book/978-1-941530-80-1?aff=InterludePress

They found a secluded spot to sit off the main drag and scarfed down pieces of pizza and people-watched. Aaron had been full of nerves earlier, but Lucky put him at ease. He had that way about him.

“I’ve got a few minutes left,” Lucky said when they finished their food.

They got up, sipping at their drinks as they made their way through the crowd back toward Lucky’s booth. It was now or never. He had to ask, had to get the words out, or miss his shot.

“Can I ask you something?” Lucky spoke up before Aaron could. Maybe Lucky would… Aaron held his breath, nodding. “It might sound weird.”

“Sure,” Aaron replied, his heart beating a little faster. He had no idea what was coming now; what could Lucky possibly want from him? A kiss?

“Can you take your picture for me?”

Aaron blinked at him. Lucky tilted his head off to one side and Aaron turned his head the same direction. His gaze landed on a photo booth, realization sinking in. His mouth fell open, unsure what to say. It was a little weird because they barely knew each other, but also flattering.

“I’d really like to draw you again.” Lucky seemed slightly embarrassed. “I mean, I could take pictures on my phone if that’s better for you, but that seemed creepier somehow.”

Aaron couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped at Lucky’s words, even as the idea of Lucky drawing him again and again left him breathless. “Um,” he managed to get out, glancing around at the crowd. A familiar blonde head caught his eye and he nearly choked.

Was Lyn at the carnival? Wasn’t she supposed to be with their mothers?

Aaron pulled Lucky by the hand into the photo booth and slid the curtain shut.

Lucky slid money into the slot as they sat down. His breath caught as Lucky’s hands touched his face gently. “Like this,” Lucky whispered, turning his head to the side. The camera flashed. Lucky’s fingers turned his head to the front, pulling away just in time for the camera to go off again. Once again, Lucky’s fingers turned his head to the side, only now he was facing Lucky, staring deeply into his eyes.

Aaron tried not to hyperventilate as he held Lucky’s gaze. The camera flashed for the last time but neither of them moved.

“Go out with me?” Aaron suddenly blurted out. He had to do something or he might do something even more insane, like kiss Lucky. Aaron so wasn’t ready for that yet. Lucky’s eyes widened and he smiled.

“Sure,” Lucky drawled after a moment. “When?”

Kitty Stephens’ writing aspirations date back to her childhood, when she and her brother would make up stories about characters in their favorite books. She eventually started writing stories in online fan communities, and majored in English at Ohio State University. She lives in Ohio with her husband and son. Set Me Free is her first novel.

Get to know the author on tumblr at @kittystephenswrites and on Twitter at @KittyStephensWr

Twitter: @KittyStephensWr

Tumblr: kittystephenswrites.tumblr.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KittyStephensWrites?fref=ts

Today I’m chatting with Kitty Stephens about writing, life, and their current project. Welcome! Let’s talk a little about Set Me Free.

What inspired you to write this story?

I originally submitted Set Me Free for Interlude Press’ Summer Love anthology. Because of that I explored the idea of summer love and what happens at the end of summer with the relationship. It’s also a story about being true to yourself and doing what makes you happy, even if you’re not quite sure what that is yet.

Is there a character you feel especially connected to? Why?

I think I’m most connected to Aaron. The original manuscript was told completely from his perspective and as a result, he ended up with a lot of me in him. I relate to the idea that he has no idea what he wants to do with his life.

What was the hardest part of writing this?

Finding time to sit down and write in steady blocks. Some days I would only write a bit here or there and it’s hard to stay in the flow of a scene if the writing is interrupted.

Choose a favorite line or short passage. What do you like about it?

“It’s peaceful,” Lucky replied. He pictured the painting in his mind, the swirls of light and color taking shape as he talked about them. “There’s so much love in that painting. Sort of like the town is being taken care of by the light of the stars.”

“Wow,” Aaron said quietly. “I never considered it that way. I always feel like I’m as swirled inside as the painting when I see it.”

I just loved this because this is one of my favorite paintings and I felt like this discussion really illustrates where the two characters are at using the same artwork.

Tell us a little about any upcoming projects.

I am currently working on a pitch for a YA series about a high school LGBTQ club.

How do you choose names for your characters?

For Set Me Free, once I had picked Georgia as the location, I researched names common to that area.

Where do you look for inspiration for new stories?

Everywhere! Sometimes inspiration comes from strange places. Once I wrote something that was inspired by a dentist appointment.

What else do you use to immerse yourself in the story (music, visuals, etc.)?

Definitely music. It helps me focus and tune out the rest of the world.

Word Sprints!