Did you know that I wrote a story based at a geek convention?
I did it for a NanoWriMo when I didn’t have access to a computer (*gasp* I know. How I kept sane is a mystery to me). Every time I look around when I’m at CONvergence, I remember it clearly.
Maybe one day I’ll clean it up, update it, and see if y’all will like it.
Anyway, I have a bunch of promos coming up for Settling Down coming up soon and I can’t wait to share the dates and blogs with you.
…once I’m back home.
…and have slept for like a whole week.
Eee, I’m excited to announce that I’ve got a new release coming up tomorrow!!!
Torquere Press is releasing an anthology called Spinning the Top, a collection of tales where the very concept of “who’s the top” and “who’s the bottom” get turned on their heads and twisted into knots. My contribution is a short tale named Ollie’s Jock. I posted a bit for my WIP Fridays, so here’s a steamier bit (but just a bit, it’s a shortie, after all):
Don’t make eye contact, don’t make eye contact. “You know, I just wanted to say… you know… thanks for the help… with class. Got a B on the final.”
“Come on, Lawrence, you’ve thanked me quite enough. Of course you were going to pass.”
Larry’s pulse skipped a little at the use of his formal name, and his mantra failed as he looked into dark, teasing eyes. No one but his grandfather called him Lawrence anymore, but when Oliver used it, it reminded him of way more than oatmeal cookies and tobacco scented hugs.
No, Oliver’s scent was more cologne and product. And, when Larry was really good, come
Since Jonathan is a dancer, that kinda requires music, and there’s plenty mentioned in This Little Whatever.
Today, I’d like to share some of it with you!
“…and it didn’t matter because Anah had already started the CD that held the traditional Middle Eastern tunes every belly dancer knew…”
“…he had never heard of Van Canto or Covenant or Cruxshadows or any of the bands we swore allegiance to…”
“…I brandished a pair of metal spoke fans, each tipped with lit Kevlar, my hips flexing and writhing to the face-melting guitar shred of Metallica’s ‘Fuel.'”
“The spotlight moving with her off the stage was my cue to step from behind the curtain and into the dark, one arm up, the other down and pointing to the stage floor, feet ready for the first note of the song, “Black Wings of Hate” by Van Canto…”
“…I named her Marilyn because, you know, ‘Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend’? Well, okay, that and ‘Marilyn, My Bitterness’ is one of my favorite songs. Have you heard it before? The Cruxshadows are a pretty awesome band…”
“And then he had to break my little bubble of joy by moving his lips to my ear in time for the chorus, and sing along. Damn, he sounded better than in the shower.
‘All I’ve ever wanted, all I’ve ever needed is here in my arms….'”
I hope you guys enjoyed that little glimpse into the book. These are some of my favorite songs as well, so I couldn’t help but give one character that little quirk!
In This Little Whatever, there is a relationship (duh), and it’s beautiful and awesome and I hope you enjoy it. But while Jonathan and Dean are discovering the fits and starts of their relationship beginning, another relationship of Jonathan’s is ending. Painfully. Right before his eyes.
Jonathan and his co-founder Rachel have been best friends for ten years. They’ve moved around together, danced together, had as close of a connection one can have without the messiness of sex coming between them. Rachel hasn’t been so free in all her life, and Jonathan, thanks to moving around with his mother when he was a boy, never had a chance to settle down and make a close friend his own age. They both revolve around the carefree party nomad lifestyle and so far it’s worked for them.
Until Jonathan gets that voicemail from his mother. And mortality hits him square in the face.
Jonathan goes into denial about it for a couple of months. Rachel remains in that denial because it’s easier than realizing her friend is seriously hurting inside and there’s nothing she can do to fix it. And so the rift begins. They stop talking to each other. They go through the motions for the sake of the dance troupe that depends on them functioning together. In desperation, Jonathan reaches outside of “them”, and Rachel clings to the very idea of “them” always being together.
It’s almost like a long divorce, seeing a close friendship slowly die.
…and I thought writing this book was hard! I gotta pimp it too?
Okay, confession time: I’m really bad at talking myself up. I agonize over writing an resume. Job interviews terrify me. I WISH I had half of Jonathan’s ego.
Thankfully, the community of M/M writers and reviewers are awesome people, and some have reached out to me, offering me spaces on their blogs and all that good stuff, so I am proud to present:
This Little Whatever: The Blog Tour!
September 4th: Zen gardening, insane cats and the written word
September 5th: Michael Rupured’s Blog
September 6th: Release Day! Come back here for an exclusive deleted scene!
September 9th: The Purple Rose Tea House
September 10th: Attention is Arbitrary
September 16th: Brynn Stein’s Blog
In my book, This Little Whatever, my main character Jonathan owns a huge Army style canvass duffel bag that he carries everything that is important to him. Clothes, toiletries, shoes, costumes, tackle box full of metal rings and pliers (he’s an eccentric fellow), everything, neatly folded and bagged. Unless he’s partying, it’s not far from reach. It’s his entire world, and it fits on his back. He lives his life surrounded by people and friends and fun, but he’s always ready to run at the first sign of trouble. It’s the way of his core group of friends. His “home” is portable.
Dean, on the other hand, lives in a small home on acres of land, miles from the nearest city. Alone. Social anxiety and PSTD has kept him almost completely homebound, save for work and solo excursions, for years. It’s his sanctuary, the one place in the world where he feels safe. His “home” is permanent, but isolated.
In the book, both of these gents have to reconcile a lot about their definition of “home” in order to find what they need the most, love and each other. Jonathan’s bag is a metaphor for his trust, his heart; very few people can touch that bag and he’s constantly worried that someone will go into it and steal something. When Dean opens up his home for that one night stand, he’s literally letting someone into his heart, showing his own trust.
I didn’t even realize that sort of significance while I was writing TLW, and I hope everyone who reads it will see it too.