The Den of Debauchery's Garden gazebo

Power in the Blood

2012-01-15T15:32:00.000-08:00

This is still up for pre-order. You can get the ebook for 4.75 instead of 6 and the paperback for 7.75 instead of 10.

http://www.stormmoonpress.com/books/Power-In-the-Blood.aspx

Oren Stolt understands the natural order better than most people. Vampires prey on humans and Undying keep the vampires' numbers in check.

Until now.

Now, across the United States, vampire numbers are exploding, thanks to a new church. The Tabernacle of the Firstfruits preaches a Risen Lord and invites believers to follow Him in death and resurrection... quite literally.

In Memphis, the church is about to host its first conference, with an eye to converting the whole world to the vampiric gospel.

And all that stands between humanity and eternal night is Oren, his kids, and a thin line of insane immortals.

YUletide Youtube: Jeff Foxworthy Redneck 12 Days Of Christmas

2011-12-09T14:17:00.000-08:00

The Blog Tour begins

2011-12-02T13:31:00.001-08:00

http://www.jadettepaige.blogspot.com/2011/12/angelia-sparrow-power-in-blood.html

I'm over at Jadette's today, talking about Power in the Blood and vampires in a post-sparklepire era

Gay Christmas Werewolves, BOGO!

2011-11-27T12:43:00.000-08:00

(okay, you don't actually get the werewolves, but buy one of my ebookst at LitUnd and get one free)

For the Reader on your list: http://literaryunderworld.com/ We have it all! Free shipping over $25 and 10% of EVERYTHING with code UL2011

Also a variety of specials and sale that run through Monday

Got small children? Try Jon Edward Klement's Smerd books, learn ABC and colors and shapes with a purple pocket dragon.

Middle grade kids? Step into the Circle, by Rowena Wishom introduces them to the fastest growing faith in the country.

Teens? Jackie Gamber's Redheart, The Perils of Picoma comics, and others.

GLBT? They carry a complete selection of my books and my ebooks are BOGO! Sara M. Harvey's Blood of Angels series, with steampunk lesbian demon-hunters, is only $25.

We have horror. Oh boy do we have horror. Elizabeth Donald's zombie books, Steven L. Shrewsbury, Stoker Award winning John Everson books. All on sale.

Fantasy reader? Alex Adams's Dwaves series is half price this weekend. Go swamp crawling with Elizabeth, or enjoy Michelas Joy's series, or Frank Fradella's superheroes.

Comics, mysteries, short story collections. We even have unique ebooks for the ebook reader in your life. "Saving Melanie" is awesome sf.

Come on over!

GayRomLit roundup

2011-10-16T21:02:00.000-07:00

So, GayRomLit.

I have been to New Orleans. I have stayed in the Bourbon Orleans Hotel and encountered several of the ghosts, photographing one. I have eaten muffaletta at Johnny's. I have ridden a streetcar and a riverboat. I sold about 30 books. I met a bunch of terrific people. I went to Marie Leveau's Voodoo shop. I also got to go to the La Place Andouille festival, to eat andouille and gumbo.

There is much, much more to say about this. I'm not sure I want to, because I'm still not well.

We-- Joy, Cat and I--arrived late Thursday night and found ourselves in a number of predicaments, Kiernan Kelly and her husband Henry bailed us out of them. We promptly made plans to move OUT of the host hotel ASAP, because $200/night is too rich for my blood. (We spent Fri and Sat nights in a Motel 6 about 5miles away)

Friday was busy busy, with the move and then lunch with an author. EM Lynley is really awesome and Shari and Sadonna were terrific. We hiked through the quarter to Johnny's World Famous Po'Boys. I was dressed for the Riverboat signing, in something similar to what I wore for Outlanta. I know I ended up in a few tourists' pictures. The muffaletta was amazing. And then it all went south. We walked 2 blocks to the streetcar station to go to the riverboat. As we sat and waited, I became aware that I was feeling quite unwell. Despite unlacing my corset, I left my muffaletta in the weeds well away from the platform.

I made it to the riverboat and went immediately to the head. I stayed there most of the trip, emerging occasionally to sign books and retreating to leave more of the muffaletta, and then the beignets from breakfast, behind. I sold out of Glad Hands anyway. Angela Benedetti let me ride in her taxi and fed me anti-nausea meds. I may have offered sexual favors in return, but I'm kind of bleary on that. I need to hire Joy to actually BE Angelia Sparrow for me. She does it so much better than I do.

Accomplished final stage of move, got into more comfortable clothes and went back to hotel just in time for Ghost walking tour. That was good although I was all-over goosebumps the whole time.

Goosebumps tends to be my reaction to ghosts. I had at least half a dozen encounters with ghosts in the hotel, mostly the children who kept triggering the goosebumps. Also snapped a picture of one, accidentally, while taking a pic of Rachel Haimowitz. (with her camera) The balcony door kept opening and shutting by itself and the chandelier swung...in dead calm air.

Saturday was better. we got a later start, which included gingerale from the Winn-Dixie. Sold more books at the Amber Allure spotlight (Sold out of AA titles and Wild Passions) and had several ladies (some of color themselves) tell me how much they liked Kestrel on the Horizon, mostly because I had a black hero.

The girls went to The Gumbo Shop and brought me back Bread Pudding. We also walked around the corner to Marie Leveau's House of Voodoo. A Tree of Life pendant screamed at me and I bought it. A bratty Fairie Tarot deck tried to make Cat take it home and when I put it back on the shelf, it bit me.

The Hurricane party was good. Got some quality time with Cat Grant while waiting for someone to go in the pool.

Hung out until the wine and cheese. Tummy decided to accept some crackers and cheese and a few grapes. I fangirled all over Laura Braumbach. And i fell in love with Kris of Kris N Good Books. I hugged her a lot and kissed her and told her I loved her. I think I would have proposed if I'd had more than a mouthful of the wine. Tam and Kassa are a hoot as well.

This morning was the farewell brunch, and then we went in search of the best Andouille on the planet. My Iphone's GPS got us to the backside of La Place LA, only to find the hole-in-the-wall was closed for the Andouille festival. So we went to that!

An uneventful drive later, punctuated by discussions of love, human greatness and other such, brought us back to Memphis.

Final conclusions:
1) I need to hire someone to be Angelia Sparrow because I suck at networking, especially while ill. Playing well with others isn't my long suit to start.
2) I need to write more horror. I don't really believe in love well enough to write good romance.
3) Albuquerque is too darn far for this. If they do it in St. Louis, I'm there.
4) I do good swag. Not as elaborate as some, but still good.
5) Ghosts play merry hell with my personal energies.

Free books

2011-08-05T00:40:00.001-07:00

Leave a comment on the LJ post. You do not have to log in.

http://valarltd.livejournal.com/1394328.html

Big book give away

2011-08-04T11:20:00.000-07:00

In honor of being married 22 years, I am giving away 22 ebooks.
(ebooks have no postage!)

So, how do you, my friends and loyal readers, snag one for your own?

Simple.
Today, go to my website, http://www.brooksandsparrow.com and decide which one you want. Alas, Dragons Composed, Dreams of Steam, Four-Play and Zombiality are not available, being print-only.

Tomorrow I will make the request post. Leave your request and email at the screened dropbox.

For those who prefer the heterosexual side of things, let me make it easy:
Pushing the Boundaries of Reality (m/f/m)
Showdown at Yellowstone River (some male bisexuality)
Burning for Eight Days.
A Dark Roasted Christmas
Like a Corset Undone (Full three way menage a trois)
Ellora's Cavemen

If lesbians are your thing:
Worth the Woe
Howl at the Mistletoe. (3 lesbian stories, request this and I'll send Still rolling, the sequel to Rewriting Old Songs)

Where to find me at Fandom Fest

2011-07-14T16:21:00.000-07:00

Fandom Fest is coming to Louisville KY on July 22.

I am a guest and will be a busy lady.

Friday
5:00 Panel Room B Author’s Collectives
8:00 Panel Room B Vampires, Werewolves, and Zombies: Keeping Genre Writing Fresh

Saturday
12noon Panel Room B Exploring the World of Children’s Books
3:00 Panel Room B Literary Underworld
7:00pm Concourse Signing
11:00 Panel Room A BDSM in Fiction
12:00am Panel Room A Reading

Sunday
2:00pm Panel Room A Imagicopter
3:00pm Panel Room A Steampunk

OutLantaCon this weekend

2011-05-12T10:54:00.000-07:00

I'm off to Atlanta tomorrow. I'm a guest at OutLanta Con, a GLBT science fiction convention.

I'm doing a poker run as self promotion, I should have a dealer table.

Where to find me:
Star Trek: Missing Minority, Friday, 9 pm.

Angelia Sparrow, Saturday, 10 am. This is me, talking about what's out, what's forthcoming and maybe reading a bit of something.

We Need a Few Good ???, Saturday, 2 pm.

Also, I am fund-raising for the Memphis Gay and Lesbian Community Center, which is in danger of shutting its doors for lack of money. 20% of all book sales and 100% of all tarot readings will be donated to the center. Donations also taken, so drop some loose change. Everything helps.

Because it seemed appropriate

2011-04-24T13:10:00.000-07:00

from Alive on the Inside

“Tonight, the eight o'clock Ten in One will be replaced by a live Passion Play. There will be no adult show. There will be another Passion Play tomorrow night and a special Sunrise Service on Easter.”

Nick flinched at the notion. He knew there was a hymn-sing and revival service every Sunday morning, but he'd never worked up the nerve to go. He just knew Elijah would throw him out because of Jacob. He gave the idea of a Passion Play some thought. He wasn't sure how they could stage it, since they had very few normal looking people among the crew. The hideous thought occurred to him that it would be a real crucifixion and Jacob would be starring.

He dismissed this as blasphemous and started building the four o'clock tip.

Eight o'clock found him in his usual spot at the back of the Ten in One tent, a little nervous. Giant white scrims had been set up everywhere. The old familiar story began, half rear-projection, half live-action. Elijah addressed the council of the Pharisees as the high priest, the others all just motion picture, but his timing so impeccable, Nick could almost believe they were real. Jene, looking all male,led in the donkey colt to recorded cheers of a throng projected on the scrims at the front.

Nick winced. Jacob was indeed on the donkey. It was going to be a real beating and a real crucifixion and the crowd was going to ooh and ah over the realism and never know they'd actually seen true torture.

Marv was commanding as Pontius Pilate. Nick watched each blow of the whip lay Jacob's back open. The twins, as Mary and Martha, clung to MingXia, dressed in red as Mary Magdalene, and wept. The blood flowed until Nick was sure Jacob couldn't take any more. When Jacob winced at a blow, he
knew it was getting too much.

The tent went dark and Elijah's voice, deep as thunder, narrated the next events. Nick didn't recognize the Roman who was beating Jacob as he staggered under the weight of the huge wooden cross on his back. Then he realized it must be Wolfgang, without the fur. The Phantasmagoria had gone all out for this show.

One of the women in the audience sobbed when a splash of blood hit her face and she smelled the bitter iron of it instead of the sticky sweetness of corn syrup. “It's real,” ran through the crowd at lightening speed.

Wolfgang and Jene, both in full armor, wrestled the cross to the ground and spread Jacob atop it. Nick couldn't watch and from the gasps in the crowd and a thud, he knew others found it just as hard.

The sound of the crudely forged iron nails breaking skin and tendon and small foot bones before thudding into wood sickened Nick. He fled backstage.

The crucifixion went on for an eternity. Jacob bled and writhed and cried out. Finally, he dropped limp, the crown of thorns spattering the front row with more blood. Jene and Wolfgang took him down, none too careful and handed his body to the twins and Mingxia who carried it to the part of the set designated as the tomb. They washed him and wrapped him in white cloth and with some help, got the rock in front of the entrance.

Nick came to the back of the tomb set and helped Jacob sit up, unwrapping his head in the process. He handed over a glass of water. Gently, he lifted the thorns off, puncturing one finger as he did.

“Jacob, are you going to be all right?” He poured another glass of water. After losing that much blood, blood which still seeped through the white cloth, Jacob would need a lot of fluids.

“I'm always fine.” The cold suspicion in Jacob's eyes hurt, but Nick knew he deserved it.

He bent in and kissed one of the shallower cuts, the one at Jacob's temple. “There is no adult show tonight. Come on back to the car and let me take care of you.” He offered a hand and picked up a heavy robe with the other. Jacob stood, exhaustion pouring off of him like the blood. Nick wrapped him in the robe and helped him back to the railcar.

Once inside, he sat Jacob on the sofa and poured more water, adding a shot of whiskey to this one. “Drink,” he said. He ducked into the head and came back with the basin and cloth he'd used in
February.

The girls had washed him, but Jacob had bled again on the walk over. This worried Nick. By now, he should be scabbed over, if not healed entirely.

He washed extra carefully around Jacob's forehead and scalp where the cruel thorns had bitten deep under Jene's crueler pressing. He unwrapped the linen from Jacob's hands and cleaned them, the nailprints in the wrists giving him an odd, twisty sensation in his stomach.

It was how he used to feel as a kid, during the gorier parts of fairy tales or looking at the pictures in his mother's family Bible. Old, full color illustrations of the people dying in the Flood while the Ark sailed serenely on, of Salome presenting the head of John the Baptist to her mother and yes, of the Crucifixion. It was the same odd tingle he had always gotten saying the Apostle's Creed at the words “Crucified, dead and buried.” He knew exactly what he wanted to do.

“Jacob...love. may I stay?”

The hope in his lover's eyes almost burned. “Please stay.”

Nick turned Jacob's hands palm up, washed away the blood and kissed the center of each. Jacob stroked his face, running a light thumb along his cheekbone. Nick took a deep breath and tongued the nail-prints in Jacob's wrists. He looked up with a shudder, terrified he'd overstepped himself.

Jacob pulled him up for a kiss. Nick met him, the taste of blood in his mouth—holy blood, his mind whispered—his passions higher than they'd been for months. He finished stripping away the robe and cloth.

Carefully, Nick washed his lover's back. The whip welts had closed and no longer poured out Jacob's life. He washed the blood from Jacob's legs and feet, kissing those holes too.

Finally, he started cleaning the cut in Jacob's side. Unable to help himself, he slipped four fingers into it, flat, as he imagined Doubting Thomas doing on that long ago day in Jerusalem.

“What do you need, my love?” he whispered.

Jacob opened one eye as if the eyelid weighed as much as the whole world. The exhaustion had not passed, but seemed to grow deeper. Nick wondered if Jacob would survive the next night's show.

Stuff

2011-04-21T12:36:00.000-07:00

Oh look, I have a Blogger account.
Oh look. i remembered how to access it.

It's been a busy spring. 4 releases in 4 months. And working on more.

But all in all, it's going well enough.

I have no thoughts on this Maunday Thursday. Work eats me alive

Bane Of Humanity

2010-11-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

When I hear John Boehner's name pronounced, this is the scene I see in my mind.

Stuff in progress

2010-10-06T15:26:00.001-07:00

Done and Subbed:
Worth the Woe--Ravenous Romance's Rumpled Silk Sheets
Experiments--Cleis CARNAL MACHINES
Thigh to Thigh--Ace's Pain/Pleasure anth
Playing With Fire--Renaissance, Undead erotica
Between Despair and Ecstasy--Renaissance, Undead Erotica

Done
Looking Down the Road

Done but need rewrites
Long-Term
Dancing in the Black
On the Night Road
Swimming through the Net

In progress
untitled for Circlet's Like an Iron fist
Masquerade—Dec 1, 20K
Withycombe 2—50K min
Songs for Guitar and French Harp—Nov 30, 20K
Nick & Corban

A list of works in various stages of progress.

2010-09-11T16:41:00.000-07:00

Stories.

Done and SubbedWorth the Woe
Experiments

Done
Profiteering
Looking Down the Road

Done but need rewrites
Long-Term
Dancing in the Black
Between Despair and Ecstasy/vampire apocalypse
On the Night Road
Swimming through the Net

In progress
Masquerade—Dec 1, 20K
Withycombe 2—50K min
Songs for Guitar and French Harp—Nov 30, 20K
Manhunt
The Algol 3 Disaster
untitled Flower Fairies
Fruits of Thine
Nick & Corban

On hiatus
Hot Delta nights
Dead Man's Wind
the time travel piece with Hermes
Uncanny Valley
Vampire apocalypse
Space vaudevillians
ghost lovers
hideous title
Rapture Horror
Adrien Origin story
David Origin story
Casting Couch Blues
Dark Angel
Rum Sodomy and the Lash
toads and diamonds
steampunk elf thing
Barbarossa's Bitch
Painting Blues City Red
Dirty Toes
Passion Hearts/Rainbow Hearts
Peregrine off High Barbary
Seasonal Make & Do books
Runic alphabet book
Gammon (lake monster)
Fissures (what lives under the ground)
Mystery of the Monkey God

Five Influences: Chain Male

2010-08-29T14:17:00.000-07:00

I've seen this around and it looked like fun.
Chain-Male is my most recent release, from Amber Allure.

Five Influences:

1) Christian Brothers University

I worked for Christian Brothers for five years. Hence the choice of Interlibrary Loan Librarian for Chad. I actually did have to send a book to Truth or Consequences New Mexico, work late nights in the library, monitor computer use and work-study students. In my head, Chad works at CBU.

2) Lilies War

War of the Lilies is an annual event held in the center of the Kingdom of Calontir in June. (this means Kansas City MO) Each year features a different scenario, from Shires (small groups) vs. Baronies (larger ones) or Grand Tournament of Artisans to a Week of Henries or Laurels (those recognized for great crafting skill) vs. Pelicans (those recognized for great service).

Much of what Chad sees is akin to what one would see at Lilies: the merchant's row (most smaller events have ten merchants tops), the bardic, the fighting, including the castle battle. The Resurrection Castle Battle depicted in the story is strongly based on one I saw at my first Lilies War, back in 1990.

Most of Jace's gear is based on my own. I built the viking tent and the rope bed, helped build tables like his and owned one of those chairs.

3) VividCon

VividCon introduced me to the Xena episode "Lyre, lyre, hearts on fire" and the Joxer Dance. They start the Friday Night Dance party with it.

The video cannot be embedded, but click here

4) Waldo and Jen

Kind of together, actually. These ladies had a big influence on the scene where the guys go for breakfast. My sister Jen introduced me to a restaurant in KC called "First Watch" which is only open for breakfast and became the inspiration for "Early Shift." Waldo and I had lunch at a mediocre diner in Chicago and her potato pancakes made it in as Jace's order.

5) Gary "Hugh DePuy" Larson

Gary taught me to make chainmail.
All I've done is a bracelet and a dancing belt in simple four-in-one, but this gave me the starter background for Jace's hobby.

Work in Progress Wednesday

2010-05-26T13:32:00.000-07:00

Untitled Flower Fairies

Kelig Raklray took another swing at the tree he was using for a pell. Maybe exercising on an empty stomach wasn't the smartest idea, but he could hardly sit around and wait to starve. There wasn't much for a fourth-rate swordsman's apprentice to do in the swamp.

He'd been wandering, more lost than anything, since his last master died in a battle with a Drasrt. There hadn't been anything left to bury of him. The humanoid lizards considered themselves the top of the food chain and humans a tasty treat.

Overcome by heat and hunger, Kelig slumped down in the sparse shade of a gnarled tree, his sword hanging limp and unregarded by his side. The moss dripping from its branches hung black and dead. The whole swamp had been like that, twisted and dying, the water sluggish and stagnant.

He felt a stab in his sword-arm above his elbow-cup. Oh Sun, not another. He slapped at the stab and felt warm blood, his own, wash over his hand. He wiped the remains of the giant mosquito off his glove and onto a patch of unwholesome-looking yellow grass. That was the sixth today. He had to get out of the swamp before nightfall or he wouldn't need to worry about finding food.

He sheathed his sword and reached up to take his helmet off when he saw something with wings coming at his face. Reacting on instinct, he swatted it.

Kelig was pretty sure giant mosquitoes didn't shriek. He wrenched his helmet off and wiped the sweat and hair from his eyes. Lying in the disgusting yellow grass was a tiny woman with purple wings.

“Oh sweet Sun,” he groaned. He took off the leather gloves and picked her up carefully, sliding one hand under her body. He had no idea how to revive a woman who was less than three inches tall.

He dug in his pack and found his last clean handkerchief. He folded it atop his well-worn leather gloves and laid her gently on it. His almost-empty waterskin still had a mouthful or two. He took one and got a drop of water on his smallest finger. He let it fall onto her face.

Tangle sputtered as the big, warm water ball enveloped her head. She gulped a mouthful and sputtered more, then sat up on the handkerchief. Her head ached and she fluttered her wings. One was still a bit bent. Getting smashed against a metal wall had not been in the Council briefing.

She stood up and looked up. And up. And up. Humans were enormous. She realized he'd built her a nest in his gloves.

“Can you hear me?” she called. Huge he might be, but he was also cute. The brief thought of Bud crossed her mind. Bud would think he was cute too.

“I can hear you. Are you all right? I'm sorry!” He looked so upset she tested her wings and fluttered up to his shoulder. He bent wing sent her drifting but she corrected. One arm wasn't moving right.

“I'm all right. I should have approached more carefully.” She was lying but she'd heal fast enough.

“I'm really sorry,” he said in a softer voice. “I was sweaty and in the helmet you looked like another giant mosquito.”

Tangle laughed. “You big meanie. Bloodsuckers aren't purple.”

“I know. You're really beautiful. I'm Kelig by the way. Kelig Ralkray, adventurer for hire.” He tried to sound impressive and it was all Tangle could do not to laugh again. Males had such an inflated sense of their own importance.

“Excellent. I want to hire you to kill the Lord Kalad and end his war with his sister which destroys the whole countryside.” She gestured around at the dying swamp. “The only problem is, I don't have anything to pay you with. Yet. Do you work for spoils?”

Kelig was shaking his head and staring at her. “Lord Kalad? You don't aim small do you, girl? Look, I'm barely trained. Most of that 'hero-for-hire' bluster is just that, bluster. “ He stared. “You're not all right.”

Tangle wobbled on her feet and he caught her before she could fall off his shoulder. With her good arm, she pulled out the spell-effect. “Find Thorn,” she told it. “Follow it,” she told Kelig. The dizziness and pain in her arm overwhelmed her.

Genre Trends I am seeing, and my predictions.

2010-04-27T11:06:00.001-07:00

Pulling out my Cloudy Crystal Ball(tm):

Steampunk is peaking. We’re going to see a rash of it for about 2 years as the bandwagoners finally get to the shelves. Cyberpunk…not happening. Mythpunk/Bronzepunk, give it five more years.

Vampires are hot, but a lot of people are burning out. I give them 2-3 years before they return to perennial favorite status.

Werewolves are mostly over. Shapeshifters in general have about another year in non-wolf form.

Historicals…I foresee a rash of medievals because of the upcoming Robin Hood movie. There will probably be more than a few reworkings of that legend too (ahead of the curve again, me).

Pirates are over. They’re stuck back with highwaymen in the “decent seller, not trending.”

Zombies are peaking. They have about three more years. There are only so many ways to write them. They’re starting to get into romance and erotica, so as an SF/horror trend they are pretty much done.

Contemporaries, Cowboys and Cops are perennials. Always a strong seller. Historical westerns, not so much in the m/m genre. I don’t see them getting out of niche.

SF/Fantasy has always been risky in our genre. It’s got some potential, but I really don’t see it happening for another five to ten years.

Faeries and Nephilim are the things I’m seeing more of. I’m reading two books right now with Nephilim involved.

This is me, talking based on what i’m seeing from small presses and NY houses, and at the grass-roots level. We’ll see how right I am.

The Holy Fool

2010-04-01T10:51:00.000-07:00

1 Corinthians 1, 27, "the weak things of the world hath God chosen that he may confound the strong."

Well, let folly be our cloak, a veil before the eyes of the Enemy! --Gandalf

A laugh can be a very powerful thing. Why, sometimes in life, it's the only weapon we have. --Roger Rabbit

It's April Fools today. It's also Maunday Thursday.
So, we're talking about Holy Fools.

Many faiths find the Fool a useful guise for a Teacher or Trickster.

Consider the musical GODSPELL. Jesus and his disciples are all portrayed as clowns. In the movie, he even wears big pompoms on his shoes.

(apologies for the Portugese subtitles)

But the teaching is given with laughter and received with joy, a thing missing in all too many churches and groups.

Here, it's set up to the point of even sounding like a vaudeville act:

We learn best when the lessons are entertaining. This is a well-known fact, to the point that the little people of the Sims 2 game learn best when they're enjoying themselves: painting, working on cars or watching cooking shows on TV. They don't want to sit and study out of a book, who does?

And the Holy Fool is a teacher, always.
SJ Tucker, Skinny White Chick, has Rabbit's Song about how Trickster was looking for teachers.

Who is the Fool?
He wears a different face for every faith but in every pantheon he serves three purposes:
Teacher/Redemptive Sacrifice
The Clown
The Bringer of Chaos

Whether Prometheus or Jesus or Raven, he loves humanity. He works to bring them knowledge and sometimes wisdom. Often, he provides people with a great treasure, the sun or fire. His good intentions may or may not work out. When the more powerful gods are angry, it is the Fool who intervenes on humanity's behalf, preventing complete destruction. And he pays the price, even to his own death or torment.

As the clown, Coyote and Bugs Bunny, Ananzi, the Pookas and Loki, The Fool plays jokes and tricks that always backfire, leaving him looking foolish but teaching something in the process.

But as Chaos, Loki, the Amadan, even the Joker and Randall Flagg are laughing at us as we scramble. This is the dark side of the trickster, the one who blows things up to enjoy the Boom, who is a psychopath. This is not the side of Loki that aided Thor in recovering his hammer, but rather the one that engineered Balder's death. This is the Ananzi who pretends to be dead and buried, but instead eats all the pea crop, leaving his family to starve. This one teaches us fear.

The Trickster and I have a dubious relationship. My husband is a devotee (under the Christian guise) and my baby girl insists Loki is her father because she was an oops, conceived when Loki overheard and laughed at me.

It has taken many years and much work on the part of the Trickster and his people in my life to even help me find my sense of humor. And every now and then I still have to shake my fist in the direction of Valhalla and say "Stop messing with my life!"

Following the Fool may take you right off the cliff, as in the Tarot card up there. But he'll be right beside you, handing you an umbrella and convincing you to fly.

For other posts in his blog tour:
http://www.angelakorrati.com/2010/04/01/drollerie-blog-tour-for-april-2010-foolery/

Writing to music

2010-03-04T16:59:00.000-08:00

A lot of writers use music when they write. Stephen King credits the beginning of The Stand to The Eagles. Some can't write to music with lyrics at all.

Me, it varies. Sometimes, I create a whole play list. This is most common when writing a novel. Sometimes, it's a song or two. Sometimes, it's just one song to get me over a hump.

"Between Despair and Ecstasy" is a short story (that is being redone into a novel at the editor's request) about vampire hunters. There is a scene in a vampire nightclub. While I was writing this rather gruseome scene (one of several), I played Bauhaus' "Bela Lugosi's Dead" on repeat for about an hour. My family was ready to scream at the industrial drone.

While writing "Showdown at Yellowstone River," it was Marty Robbin's "Big Iron" and The Highwaymen's "Silver Stallion."

When we wrote Alive on the Inside, Naomi and I came up with a playlist that sort of followed Nick's journey out of closeted hyper-religious life into the carnival as the Pain King's lover.
Long Black train--Josh Turner
Entry of the Gladiators
Take it--Genitorturers
Strange Love--Depeche Mode
Closer--Nine Inh Nails
Personal Jesus--Depeche Mode
Pain--Three Days' Grace
Hurt So Good--John Cougar Mellencamp
Happiness in Slavery--Nine Inch Nails
Comfortably Numb--Pink Floyd

On the other hand, when writing Heart of a Forest, we had a much different style of music.

Overture (Whistle Stop) from Disney
Siul a ruhn--Skylark
Scarborough Faire--Sarah Brightman
She moved through the fair--Pentangle
Wild Mountain Thyme--3 Pints Gone
Ooo da Lolly--Roger Miller
May Queen--Heather Dale
Devil's Dance--Gil Shaham
Robin Hood and Maid Marian--Wallace House (an actual Child Ballad)
Everything I do--Bryan Adams
Love--The Disney version
Labyrinth Waltz--Kim Robertson
Circle of the Lustful--Medieval Baebes
Men in tights
Full Circle--Loreena McKinnett
Robin, the Hooded Man--Enya and Clannad

I find music gives me a pace to type to and the songs can set the tone for the writing.

Excellent Review

2010-02-18T11:38:00.000-08:00

Rick R. Reed reviewed Alive on the Inside for Dark Scribe Magazine.

He calls it "by turns gruesome, shocking, tender, poignant, and nauseating (but in a good way fans of horror will understand)."

Guest Blogger: David Sklar

2010-02-14T19:21:00.000-08:00

Everyone welcome David over here to the Den.

Hello everybody in BlogLand! I'm David Sklar, author of Shadow of the Antlered Bird from Drollerie Press and coeditor (with my friend and colleague Sarah Avery of the anthology Trafficking in Magic/Magicking in Traffic , for which submissions are still open until February 28th.

This month's blog tour crept up on me, in part because I've been busy, in part because the date was changed (because of people's schedule conflicts), and in part because I've been dreading writing this post. See, this month's topic, aside from a general introduction of oneself to new readers, is one's worst experience with a work in progress, and I'm afraid my worst experience with a work in progress may well be the worst thing I've ever done to another human being.

It was almost 2 decades ago, and I was a summer student at the Naropa Institute's Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics. And I believed, then, that the work of a writer took precedence over everything, including one's own comfort, including basic human decency.

I was walking into a reading I didn't care much about, when I saw someone I kind of knew walking out, with a distressed look on her face. I asked what was bothering her, and she took me out back and told me in extensive detail about her experience being acquaintance-raped, the night before, by a friend of a friend.

A couple days later, I ran into her again, and she thanked me for being there for her, and told me she'd written a poem about it. I told her I had too. She told me that her poem made a great deal of the moment at the end when I handed her a rock from the ground and told her to throw it in Boulder Creek. I didn't tell her about the focus of my poem, which was about the sensual intimacy of shared secrets, even when circumstances make sensual intimacy entirely inappropriate.

A while later, the program had a works-in-progress reading. I thought about asking before I read this story, but it seemed an empty gesture--that is, if I asked permission and she gave it, then she still wouldn't know what she was in for, what the story was really about. And at the time I didn't know how to explain it.

So without warning, I performed, before a live audience, my account of trying to hide my arousal while a woman told me about her rape. Not because the rape itself was erotic, but because the tenderness, the intimate moment of the telling, made it hard to stay away.

The crowd loved it, but I lost some friends. Deserved to, too.

I still value my craft above my own comfort; if I didn't, I wouldn't be telling this story now. But violating another person that way--even if it was only with words, I don't know how I ever believed I could justify that, even half my life ago.

My stories are still sometimes shocking. Not that I write for shock value, but when you look for insights a person wouldn't expect, sometimes what you find is dark, unpleasant, and shocking. Sometimes my stories deal with the worst in people, sometimes the best. But these days my characters live inside my head, and their public humiliation, if the story requires it, really is mine to give.

Doesn't justify what I did 20 years ago, but it lets me continue writing now.

New Release: Showdown at Yellowstone River

2010-02-04T19:05:00.000-08:00

Showdown at Yellowstone River is currently available from Pink Petal Books.

This is a heterosexual (for certain values of that orientation) Western.

Since I can't access the publisher's site (someone on past Dallas is too slow on the uptake and we keep timing out), have an excerpt rather than a blurb.

~* * *~
On a gray Saturday afternoon in mid-October, when his bad leg said snow was on the way, Matt had finished laying up his supplies and stopped in at the Purple Garter for a drink. He took a single glass of whiskey at the bar and sipped it, watching the men around him. Cowpokes in off the trail and ranch-hands eager to spend their pay crowded the tables. The Professor plunked away at the old piano, with more enthusiasm than skill, and Ardis did her best to keep the song on key. He was glad she was busy. She teased him now and then about his proposal. Never unkindly, true, but he disliked making a fool of himself.

Matt glanced through the front window and saw Luke Smith hesitating just outside, a look of distress on his young face. He caught Matt's eye and twisted his kerchief in his hands, the picture of indecision. Matt gulped the end of his drink and hurried out just as Luke laid a hand on the saloon doors to enter.

"Luke, you can't go in such a place," he said. "You're too young and your Ma would skin me alive."

"Mr. Court--" He saw the boy's face was paper-white. "Mr. Williams is trying to have you killed. He just put it out on the telegraph wire for Paz. I saw the topaz this morning at the bank. A rider brought it in from Utah territory." Luke pulled a penny-dreadful out of his pocket. Matt knew most of the boys in town collected and traded the serials. This one showed a gunslinger with a gem-studded hatband, his face so shadowed as to be invisible.

“They say he never misses a kill, Mr. Court.” Luke flipped to a passage he'd clearly read many times. “See? Here. Paz moved like a ghost through the streets hunting his prey. While Braynard had considered absquabulating, under the notion that discretion is the better part of valor, he had decided to stay. He regretted that decision when the gunslinger stepped into the mouth of the alley where he was hiding and said, 'Draw.' Braynard drew, but too slowly. The shooting irons fell from his cooling fingers and Paz walked away from him to collect another stone.”

Luke's voice carried into the saloon. The men nearest the door fell silent. The silence spread to the surrounding tables, creeping over the whole establishment until even the Professor took his fingers off the keys.

Matt felt his face go hard. Paz was an outlaw, a hired killer with a name that ironically meant "peace." The only peace Paz dealt in was eternal peace. The serial novels and hack writers had built him up into a folk-hero of sorts, but Matt knew the truth of it. Wealthy men called him in to do their dirty work and paid him well to vanish. Vanish he did, every time, and when the U.S. Marshals arrived, nobody knew anything about the newest grave in the town burying ground.

Matt had actually seen Paz once, at a distance in Denver, but the outlaw didn't mingle, and he wasn't the target, so they'd had no congress. He had, however, taken the two dollars to help bury the poor fellow Paz had been gunning for.

"Mr. Williams wired for him," Luke repeated, "and he's coming to kill you, Mr. Court. Go to Montana. Hide in your mustang herds, until this blows over.”

Matt shook his head and rubbed his jaw. "Winter's coming, kid. A man doesn't run. If it's time for me to be sent on, nothing can stop it happening. I'll take Paz's bullet or I'll fall off a horse and break my own fool neck." He looked at the boy, almost a man. He guided Luke into the saloon and sat them down at a table. A half-dollar on the table got them drinks. Luke just stared at the amber liquid.

“Come on, boy. Let your doomed boss buy your first drink.”

Interview!

2010-02-03T14:41:00.000-08:00

Reviews by Jessewave interviewed Naomi and me.

Hello Ladies and welcome. Why don’t we start by having each of you tell us something about yourself?

Angelia: I’m Han Solo.
Naomi: I’m Errol Flynn.

And it only gets sillier from there.

An interview

2010-01-08T12:35:00.000-08:00

I was spotlighted at The Outer Alliance, a group for GLBT SF/F/H.

I talked about Alive on the Inside, resources for parents of queer teens and character diversity.

Julia asked good interview questions and I hope I gave amusing answers.
http://blog.outeralliance.org/?p=444

Work in Progress Wednesday: Chain-Male

2009-12-16T11:13:00.000-08:00

The next day dragged interminably. Chris came in at ten, as usual after a late night shift. He couldn't focus on coding MARC records into the computer, so he worked on filling interlibrary loan orders. When he realized he'd typed “Truth or Consequences New Mexico, consequences please” on a mailing label, he gave that up as a bad job and shelved the returned books.

He ate a tasteless sandwich from the campus grill for supper and loitered near the door of the building just to see what Jason drove. He was half-expecting some big black American-made muscle car, a mustang or corvette, but grinned to see Jason get out of a little dark blue vintage beetle. The engine purred in a way that told Chris Jason worked on it regularly, but one headlight was out. He ducked inside before Jason saw him, but not before he heard Jason cussing at the car.

He wasn't sure what Dr. Rea talked about that night. He just watched Jason. Jason took notes. Jason chewed on the end of his ponytail when he was trying to think. Jason turned bright red when his bracelet clanked the desk.

When the rest of the class gathered their things, Chris swallowed hard. He got up and trailed out the door, last to leave.

“Tell them they work you too hard,” Dr. Rea said, “or bring some coffee next time.”
“Sorry, prof. Long day.” Chris shrugged and escaped, his ears and cheeks flaming, to where Jason waited for him in the hall.

“Hey you,” Jason said with a grin, “Ready for some coffee? You look like you could use it.”

“Yeah. Better late than never,”Chris added with a glance at Dr. Rea who was still gathering his books. He followed Jason to the campus grill, nervous at being on a date. He waited, leafing through the history text, as Jason got the coffee.

Jason spread some papers around and opened the book, to give the appearance they were just studying. Chris just watched, holding his coffee.

Finally, he had to ask. He bent over the book and whispered, “So, how did you know? Lucky guess?”

Jason nodded and turned a page. “You didn't get all flustered. And when I tried a leading question, you didn't slug me.”

Chris smiled. “Slugging isn't allowed in the code of conduct anyway. Hasn't been that long ago that I realized it. It's been an okay secret.”

Jason took a drink of the coffee. “You didn't growl at me or anything. Straight guys hate the idea of gays. They wouldn't have been so eager to help me find a book.”

Chris needed to know. “Do you get slugged a lot? I mean... I never tried. I don't know.”

Jason shrugged. “A couple times. I got pretty good gaydar.”

Chris smiled and tasted his own coffee. “You'll have to help me tune mine up.

“It's not hard. Observation, mostly. I noticed you noticing me. By the way, I'm not sure you got my name. I'm Jace. You know, like Joxer's gay brother or Han Solo's kid.” Chris blinked and smiled. Jace face-palmed. “I am such a geek sometimes.”

“Geek is cute on you. I'm Chris.”

“Yeah, name tag.”

Chris glanced down at his shirt and saw he was still wearing his library nametag. Chris Jacobs, Interlibrary loan. “Guess I'm obvious.” He jumped when Jace's bracelet clanked on the table.

“You like this?” Jace pulled back his sleeve.

“I love it. Where'd you get it?”

“Made it. Caught you staring a time or two like you were figuring it out.”

Chris swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he wanted Jace to know so much about him already.

Work in Progress Wednesday: untitled back story

2009-12-09T02:06:00.000-08:00

David Inman had always thought of his body as one more tool, useful but only a carrying case for his mind. He had first used it to reward a loyal minion when he was twelve–the same year he’d first killed--only to discover that sex for its own sake meant little. He was well aware, however, that there were many men who coveted his slim fairness.

Men like the one recently seated across from him. Handsome and predatory, in his mid thirties and Middle Eastern looking. David sat in the interrogation room, smoking and staring at him, watching every move of his long elegant fingers, his full, cruelly sensual mouth and his subtle black eyes.

“Smart enough to graduate Harvard at fourteen. Smart enough to hack every major banking network by sixteen. Still dumb enough to smoke. Maybe you aren’t what I’m looking for after all.”

David blew a perfect smoke ring in his direction. “Every genius should have one vice. And they’ve engineered out all the carcinogens, anyway.”

“And you have a multitude. From the brandy you are not old enough to drink to blackmailing the men who enjoyed you before today.” He laid a thick file on the table and set a stack of papers beside it. “The file contains all I know of you. I assure you it’s much more than the police have. And they are already speaking of four hundred years in prison.”

David lit another cigarette from the butt of the first. “Morons,” he said, tossing his head. Shoulder-length blond waves caught the light in a very deliberate way. “As if it could hold me. I’m a minor.”

The predator flashed the date of his watch. “Happy birthday, David. Eighteen as of now. And the paperwork will all have today’s date.” He smirked. “Data piracy, computer theft, information trespassing, and grand larceny.”

David laughed without humor. “Are you my intake officer to tell me all I already know?”

“My name is James Ligatos. I run a specialized rehabilitation program for promising young criminals such as yourself.”

David removed and polished his round wire-framed glasses. “Criminal is such an ugly word. I prefer homo superior. So what, precisely can you rehabilitate,” his voice turned bitter and mocking as he resettled his glasses, “a thieving little four-eyed faggot into?”

A small, secretive smile turned up the corners of Ligatos’s mouth without reaching his eyes. “More than you can imagine. The best mind in a century is meant for far better things than petty thievery and being sold for four cartons of cigarettes or half a bottle of whiskey.” He reached over and stroked the backs of his fingers along David’s cheek “You’re very pretty, very young and already gay. You’ll bring a good price on the inside, for a while. Until you are no longer so pretty.”

“Petty? Seven billion dollars is petty?” David looked him over appraisingly. “I have plundered the monkeymass, putting them to work for me as is my prerogative.”

Ligatos laughed in his face. “Seldom does one meet an elitist so blatant about it.”

David shrugged. “Humility is a method of control created by churchmen and enforced by lesser minds. It does not apply.”

“In twelve hours, you will be expounding your Heinleinian-Nietschzean philosophy to Bruno “the Mangler” Franzetti before he begins pounding on your ass. If you take my training, you will have three years of intensive, doctoral-level study and afterward, you will be well sought after.”

New Release: Alive on the Inside

2009-12-06T08:35:00.000-08:00

Alive on the Inside is LIVE!
by Angelia Sparrow & Naomi Brooks
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-614-7 (Electronic)
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-817-2 (Paperback)

Nick Harper has a nice life, a nice job, and a nice girl. Until Labor Day Weekend, when the Phantasmagoria Traveling Wonder Show comes to town.

Seduced by the dark and wickedly erotic charms of both the Phantasmagoria and Torturo, a man known in the freak sideshow as The Pain King, Nick embarks on a journey of self-discovery, love, and pain.

But the show is not what it seems. It changes those who come with it in ways they can never imagine, not even in their worst nightmares.

And Nick's changes are just beginning...

Genres: Gay / Erotic Horror / Dark Fantasy / BDSM / Contains Some Secondary Heterosexual (M/F) And Lesbian (F/F) Content
Heat Level: 3
Advisory: This book contains graphic violence, hardcore bondage and punishment, torture and blood play. May not be suitable for the more sensitive reader.
Length: Extended Novel (79k words / TBD paperback pages)

Excerpt Here

Work in Progress Wednesday

2009-12-02T12:20:00.000-08:00

This will be an ongoing feature.
If you find a snippet you particularly like, please nag me about it. I will finish everything eventually.

This is an untitled steampunk piece, currently in progress for Samhain. Work Safe.

He moved fast, but cautiously. Henry had never been in a pirate attack, but he'd heard about them from other aeronauts. He knew if he hid in one place, they'd find him. It was best to keep moving. He needed a weapon. They'd probably kill him as easily as they had Gideon, but he intended to sell his life as dearly as possible.

He made the armory, a small, understocked room, designed more with brawling passengers than pirate attacks in mind. Every Winchester and Springfield in the place was gone. Even the old Tredegar and Sharps had been taken. He checked the hand weapons. A single Bowie knife lay on the bottom of the cabinet. When he drew it, he saw why. The rusting, broken blade tested dull against his thumb.

It was still better than nothing. He hooked it to his belt and grabbed a whetstone and oil in passing. Knowing his time was too short for safety, he sharpened it as he walked. The upper crew decks were empty. He looked out over the main deck and saw the passengers lined up and prodded a long by the pirates. Each waited his turn in line and dropped whatever he had into the large sacks three of the bandits carried.

A man in a long black coat sprawled in a chair clearly dragged from one of the salons for him. Henry watched a moment too long, taking in the careless dangle of one booted leg over the arm, the gleam of the moonlight on his flying goggles. Smart, dangerous and utterly arrogant, he lounged watching the wealthy folks rid themselves of impediments to the Kingdom of Heaven.

Henry checked on the other side of the deck and saw the bridge and upper level crew, disarmed and under heavy guard. The chambermaids and cooks had been separated out from the men and stood in a tight knot, some clinging and weeping, some with looks of grim determination on their pretty faces. The black crew had been cordoned off as well and stood under heavier guard than the white. Henry shook his head. Guarded as if they were dangerous or had any loyalty to Captain Richardson. Richardson treated his white belowdecks crew as servants and his black crew as fixtures of the ship.

Henry counted forty pirates. He could not possibly take the ship singlehandedly. He would stay alert, watch what happened and try not to get captured. It didn't look like this pirate crew went in for butchery. Out here, they could have slaughtered the entire roster of the Star and dumped their bodies in the badlands of Deseret, never to be seen again.

Book Review: Ellora's Cavemen, Flovors of Ecstasy III

2009-11-01T06:58:00.000-08:00

Buy here: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7606-163-elloras-cavemen-flavors-of-ecstasy-iii.aspx

It's the height of ego to review your own book. Oh well.

I was excited beyond measure when I got word that "Brazen Cherry Tart" had been picked up for the Cavemen series. This is, after all, the flagship anthology, the one that can get your name out there.

When I saw the cover, I got more excited. It was hot. It wasn't weird. No one was molesting pumpkins or being anatomically improbably or having their heads pasted on, yay.

And, omg, ZOMG, Naomi and me, we was FIRST, Jack! /Bill Cosby impersonation.

So, all in all, I was very excited about Cavemen.

I read my story.
"Cherry Tart" had been slightly retitled and sexed up a little. But it remained a stagecoach romance, set on the shuttle to Io in 1897. Better than I remembered it being. I was pleased.

"Climbing the Corporate Ladder Without Panties" by Courtney Bee came next.
Given the title, I wasn't having high expectations. Stiff Corporate Drone Kate who is stuck in her position gets caught having a moment by the copier repair guy. He spanks her. They have hot sex. She loosens up and dresses sexy and gets the promotion and raise.

I did NOT like this story. It sends the message looks and attitude are more important than competence. That a short skirt will get a raise quicker than a performance review. And that women who wear their suits like armor really just need a good spanking. Some of the sex felt coercive as well. 1/5 stars

"Eight Seconds" by Sherry James was cute and sweet, but lacking plot. Rancher/Erotica author Taylorr is getting lonesome and considering buying some lingiere to seduce her brother's BFF next time he's in town, since she hasn't been laid in 2 years. BFF, Devlin, turns up at her ranch in a blizzard. Sex ensues.

Good voice. Good atmosphere. I imagined myself in the middle of a high-plains blizzard very easily. No conflict. 2/5 stars

"Pitch Black" by Fiona Jayde is a decent little thriller. Kate is a spy in Kiev. Nicholai orchestrates a blackout that lets her hide from the Russians. They take it on the run to stay alive.

This was pretty good. Not my genre, but entertaining enough to grab me and keep me reading. The sex flowed naturally from the action. The locations and characters were believble. 4/5 stars

I'd looked forward to "Shifting Sides" by Cheryl Dragon. It sounded right up my alley. A dragon shifter and a cat shifter who had been captives and experiemental subjects together re-encounter each other on an evacuated Earth. Breman, the dragon, has come for Kiren, the cat, to entice her to come back to a breakaway colony where shifters are full citizens.

This...could have been amazing if it had had less sex. The first two chapters are sex, sex and more sex. I finally gave up and skipped to chapter three where the real action started. Once there, Dragon did an awesome job on the world building. I would like to read more set in this milieu. 3/5 stars

"The Johnson Obsession" by Lyla Sinclair was a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting much from it, given the title. But Sinclair's clever, snarky voice pulled me right into this parody of a certain type of woman who reads kinky romance. Our uptight heroine, Vivian, has been drawing her hot neighbor Duke Johnson for a while. But some mixed up mail lands Duke on her doorstep to deliver it, including the spicy, kinky romance novel that he read....

The sex is incredibly hot and playful, the author's voice is funny and clever. The only real criticism I have is one turn of phrase: "She felt a liquid release between her legs." My first thought was "She wet herself?" The plot was thin, but the characters were engaging. 3/5 stars.

Production values:
The ebook is laid out nicely and easy to read. The print version is done on greyish pulp with a thin cover. The font is easy to read, though.

Overall, I give the collection 2 stars out 5. Some of the stories are very entertaining. The e-book version is the better value.

A couple of great reviews

2009-10-28T13:32:00.000-07:00

Literary Nymphs did a review of Shell-Shocked. Five stars, "a bit of originality, mixed in with some tough life lessons."

I had my doubts about Shell-Shocked. I figured it would be a hard sell (it was snapped up almost immediately by the first publisher) and that no-one would want it (16 copies sold, 32 stolen) and that it would review poorly because nobody wanted to read about a couple of disabled guys propping each other up. So far, it's reviewed the best of anything we've written. I don't get it. Maybe I should stop trying to predict the market, hmm?

Val Kovalin reviewed Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists again, this time at Jessewave's. 5 stars and summed up as "FUN" and "totally unique."

First Page Friday: Shell Shocked

2009-10-23T02:07:00.000-07:00

You can get a free copy of Shell-Shocked today

Remember, you must comment on ALL the FPFs for a shot at the book bundle:
First Page Friday: Shell Shocked

First page Friday

2009-10-22T15:58:00.000-07:00

We're trying something new on my Facebook Fan group.

First Page Friday.
This will run from now until the end of the year.

Every Friday, I will post the first page of one of my books.
Readers can comment on it. The comment must be more than "first" or "enter me!"
A random reader will receive a e-book.

At the end of the year, one lucky reader will receive a paperback book bundle. Guaranteed four book minimum, possibly as many as ten. You must comment on ALL First Page Fridays to be eligible.

Good reviews

2009-10-21T18:49:00.000-07:00

Rainbow Reviews covered Queer Dimensions and gave it a five star rating.
http://www.rainbow-reviews.com/?p=1932
Of ours, they said, "Plumbing the Depths" by A. Sparrow & N. Brooks never quite took off for me, although it's nicely plotted, and I was rooting for the relationship to flourish.

And the Obsidian Bookshelf talked about Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists
http://obsidianbookshelf.blogspot.com/2009/10/review-curse-of-pharaohs-manicurists.html
Val calls it "fast-paced" and an "intellectual treat."

It's here

2009-10-20T12:02:00.000-07:00

LIKE A CORSET UNDONE is finally out! And on SALE

Order here: http://www.circlet.com/?page_id=12&category=4&product_id=91

For the next two weeks the title is on sale at up to 20% off from most partner sites, and right here at Circlet.com, so don’t dawdle, download a copy today!

All the trappings of steampunk society–corsets, airships, and ‘leaping technologie’–meet the simmering undertone of sexuality so well-hidden by Victorian morality in LIKE A CORSET UNDONE, Circlet Press’s third volume of erotic steampunk stories. By turns kinky and romantic, the stories in Like a Corset Undone explores all the reasons to unlace, whether to rebel, or for more intimate purposes.

Includes the stories:
The Pretty Horsebreaker by Peter Tupper
Adventures Underground by Carlanime Bligh
The Skydancer by R.E. Bond
Skyway Robbery by Angelia Sparrow and Naomi Brooks
The Tinker's Lady by Jasmine Dale
The Zeppelin Raider by Roxy Katt
Submission by R. Blackett
The Coming Age by Angela Caperton

Shell Shocked is Here!

2009-10-08T18:38:00.000-07:00

Shell Shocked
by Angelia Sparrow and Naomi Brooks

Publisher: Pink Petal Books

Buy it!

Blurb:
Sean Dempsey came home from Iraq with artificial knees, scorched retinas and a lot of baggage. He supplements his disability checks with money made writing romance novels under a female pseudonym, ironic as he has grown very nervous around women since a certain suicide bomber. When he meets Gabriel Herne, legless phone psychic, the sparks startle him. It's everything he's written about and never believed.

Swept into a whirlwind romance, Sean has to learn about his newfound bisexuality and his lover's pagan faith at the same time. And when he has a religious experience of his own, he discovers everything changes in its time, just like the Wheel of the Year.

NOTE: This novel contains erotic scenes of hot men celebrating pagan holidays in an accurate depiction of the Wheel of the Year.

Did someone request an erotic gay disabled pagan inspirational romance?

Bits of news

2009-10-05T05:45:00.000-07:00

In the good news column:

Pink Petal Press has picked up the novella, "Showdown at Yellowstone River" despite the whore-mongering hero and the unlikable heroine.

Edits of Alive on the Inside have gone back to Amber Quill. 81000 words, sheesh.

Shell-Shocked comes out Thursday.

In the "meh" column:

Still no reviews for Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists or Ellora's Cavemen.

Speaking of Cavemen, I need to read a couple more of the stories. Ours is good. The other I've read was...porntastic in a Penthouse Letters sort of way and barely stayed on the safe side of sexual harrassment and consent.

Only three reviews for Heart of a Forest, only one really good.

No money on Manicurists until November. Ditto Cavemen. Phaze still hasn't published July royalties.

Thoughts on Steampunk and related genres

2009-09-25T11:21:00.000-07:00

For those who don't know, steampunk is science-fiction set in the Victorian era with steam-driven technology that is a little too advanced. Think about the tank and submarine in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

So, this month I have two stories labeled "steampunk" coming out.
The thing is, only one of the stories is steampunk. The other is gaslight romance.

Let me explain:

Let's say you write a story about a brass robot worker who runs on steam.

If you write it with the "ooh, shiny, look what we did! We're so clever, let's save the world!" tone, it's an Edisonade.

If you write it that the hero has done this to get rich, relieve his drudgery and marry his lady-love, it's gaslight romance.

If you write about the robot putting workers out of jobs, because it doesn't need food or wages or sleep, and the workers revolt, you have steampunk.

***

Steampunk has been summed up as "an argument with the SF of earlier eras." The steampunk shiny always comes with a dark flip-side. An Edisonade is a story that focuses on the inventor, usually a man, who comes up with something really brilliant. There is no dark side to his shiny.

Sure, we can build a deep-sea vessel, maybe even an undersea city. That's your Edisonade: the bright-boys building, overcoming obstacles and achieving a brainiac uptopia. Steampunk explores questions like "who gets to live in the city?" If it's built by bright-boy inventors who form an all-male inventing club and don't let women or "lesser minds" in, who is going to do all the things they think are beneath them? And when they let the lesser folk in, what happens when the lessers want to invent as well?

Gaslight romance uses the high-tech trappings of steampunk to tell stories that are not challenging to the status quo, but not "oooh, shiny" of the Edisonades. In Gaslight Romance, characters take their everyday tech for granted. They like it because it works. They seldom tinker with is. The story they are involved in does not center on the tech, nor does it quarrel with the tech or (too much) with society.

***

Hence "Skyway Robbery," with Robin and his crew specifically targeting "Edisonian" ships, taking from the bright-boy-inventors-turned-sweatshop-owners and funding workers is explicitly steampunk. But "Cherry Tart," with Chastity and Ulysses falling in love being the main focus, and even the trip to Io in a brass and wood ship being secondary, is pure gaslight romance.

***

A side note
There are many other -punks:
Bronzepunk: 300 is a good example of this. Swords and Sandals with extra. Archimedes was the father of Bronzepunk tech and should be used as often as possible 8)

Clockpunk: Renaissance period

Dieselpunk: Post-Victorian, pre-Atomic age.

Atompunk: Hard to separate from cautionary tales and 1950s Big Bug movies. Technically, The Hills Have Eyes remake would be Atom and Splatterpunk.

Cyberpunk: Science fiction, usually dealing with humans and machines interfacing. This was the first of the genres, and Gibson's Neuromancer is still considered the seminal work.

Mythpunk: use of post-modern elements in classic elf and fairy stories. Catherynne M. Valente specializes in this.

Splatterpunk: really excessively gory horror.

A busy week this week

2009-09-20T07:12:00.000-07:00

Two anthologies release this week with steampunk stories by Naomi and me.

"Cherry Tart," a rare straight piece, is coming in Ellora's Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy III. It releases Sept 22, Tuesday. I'll blog more on that when I have a cover.

"Skyway Robbery," a steampunk Robin Hood menage a trois, is coming in Like a Corset Undone from Circlet Press

A safe excerpt follows:

Marion looked up from the aetheric tank where the representations of the airships drifted in and out of view amid scudding clouds. “Three degrees more to port or we'll never catch those Edisonian bastards!”

Obligingly, Robin turned the wheel of the pirate dirigible, Sherwood Forest, to the heading. Marion had picked up navigation skills as if born with a tank in hand, despite the fact it was her first voyage. She had begun badly, orphaned on the doorstep of a workhouse, and progressed to a shop-girl working for a glover. He smiled to think how fast she had agreed to be a boy to pursue a life of flight and piracy.

He watched his crew as they scurried here and there, preparing for the battle. Little John, his first mate, gathered the boarding party with their grapple-launchers. Will O'Hara, a runaway Fenian, and Mudge, his little jack-of-all-trades, angled the burning-glass that stood along the port side. He'd named his whole crew after his ancestor's legendary band, saying it was wiser so, since no official would accept a report that Robin Hood and his Merry Men had just robbed them.

Once the burning-glass was settled, Will scooted up to him and nipped his neck as he slung a quiver of explosive arrows on Robin's back. His time with the Fenian Brotherhood had given him a love of explosives and shiny things. It amused Robin, most of the time, to indulge him. “Just pull the fuse and fire. The fuses are a little longer so you don't lose your eyebrows again, Robin darlin'.” Will stole another kiss and dashed off to do more tinkering with the glass.

Robin saw Marion shoot him a dark look as she watched them. She might be filling his bed, but Will had been there first. Robin had no intention of giving up either one of them.

He'd informed Marion of this the second time Will had gone overboard under suspicious circumstances. Fortunately, Will was small, light and fast enough to grab at some netting. Robin had found him pretending to be working while he awaited rescue. The normally fearless boffin had worn safety harnesses for weeks afterward.

“Your new navigator has a ferocious temper, Robin darlin'. But sure, I probably deserved it,” was all Will would say of the incident.

The fat industrialist dirigible, with its enclosed gondola, emerged from the mist like a surfacing whale about to spout. Robin allowed himself a grin of pleasure and stroked the smooth yew wood of his bow. He loved hunting trips.

He glanced at where Marion had bent over the tank again. He appreciated his lady and her new-found skills, but never more so than when she stood like this, her trousers taut over her legs and rear. Only he and Will knew her true sex. She bound her breasts, lowered her voice and dressed in men's clothing, with enough layers to hide her shape, by his orders. It might be the newly-minted twentieth century, but his crew was as superstitious as any that had ever sailed, Phoenician or Norse or their own ancestors under Drake and Morgan. A woman aboard ship was bad luck to their minds. To Robin's thoughts, she would become another bit of spoil to be quarreled over. That development would serve no one.

Will still scurried about, his blue eyes shining with delight at testing his new toys, and his sharp Irish tongue lashing all the men with curses and blarney in English and Gaelic alike. Speaking the Irish language might be grounds for jail time on the ground, but Robin loved the sound of it and here, he was the law. He watched Marion track Will's motions as effectively as she tracked the Edisonians.

He wanted the battle done, the Edisonians' wealth aboard his ship, and to be bundled into the master cabin with Will and Marion while John held the helm steady for their hideaway. He needed to resolve this personal mess and the sooner the better, lest it spill over the crew. Ah, there would be time. The Edisonian ship was in his range, although he was not yet in theirs.

“Fire one!” Marion yelled.

The Question

2009-09-13T22:02:00.000-07:00

This is a repost of my post to the Amber Quill blog.

I finally got The Question. You know the one, "Where do you get your ideas?"

I took a page from the late, great Lewis Grizzard and said, "I subscribe to a service in North Dakota. $10 a month and they send me three ideas a week."

In reality, anything can start a story. Ideas are all around us. Comedian Carl Hurley says, "I don't make anything up, I just watch folks and tell it like it is." Well, as a writer, I tell it like it isn't. But I do observe and I do record and everything is grist for the mill.

For instance, my first stand-alone short story came because an editor said "I need a 10,000 word Christmas story. Any topic." I kicked it around a little and remembered the old superstition that children born on Christmas Day are werewolves. I remembered being on the old vampyres@guvm mailinglist. And I put it together and got a couple of thoroughly modern creatures of the night who meet on mailing-lists, play computer games, shop, host parties and watch DVDs. And have a lot of sex.

I've had stories come out of role-playing games, songs, fragments of old legend, my husband's boardgame collection and my job.

For instance Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists came about because my muse was having a really bad day. He and Naomi's muse sat down and started talking. They decided they wanted to travel, to do a historical.

It sounded something like this:
Nick: You can be the handsome globe-trotting adventurer and I your devoted comapnion
T: With little round glasses?
Nick: Oh. You like me in the glasses...and a bow tie. We'll skip the sweartervest.
T: *amused look* My secretary. Who keeps my affairs in order because I'm far too adventurous.
Nick: Oh, I like that. Fluttering after you trailing papers and pencils. And I can be cute and really bubbly
T: And I can be naturally dashing.
Nick: and we can explore and have adventures and have lots of exotic sex

And they worked out names and occupations, decided it was a pulp, then ambushed me in the grocery store and made me scribble the opening on my list, somewhere between the tortillas and toilet paper.

There are stories that started as missing scenes in other stories. "Collared Hearts" came out of "Tuition Fees," a private Christmas present scene between Nick and Chris.

The moral of this entry:
1) Inspiration can come from anything.
2) Always carry something to write with and on.
3) Always pay your North Dakota Idea Service promptly.

Oh my. A busy month

2009-09-10T18:17:00.000-07:00

Y'all are gonna get tired of me talking here.

I have oodles of books coming out this month. I gotta be more careful when I pray for a good harvest. The gods have senses of humor.

The quick and dirty run down:

Queer Dimensions is out
"Skyway Robbery" is coming in Like a Corset Undone
"Cherry Tart" is coming in Ellora's Cavemen
The print format of Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists is coming.

Busy busy.

Writing with an Agenda

2009-09-09T20:00:00.000-07:00

I've been told writing with an agenda is a bad thing. I hear it stifles the story. I don't agree.

I have a four-fold agenda when I sit down to write a GLBT story:

1) Tell the best story I can in a way that will captivate and remain with the reader long after the book closes. This should be EVERY writer's agenda.

2) Promote the normalization of same-sex relationships through repeated exposure to characters with that orientation. The more people see gay characters as ordinary people, the less shocking such relationships become. Julian May surprised me with same-sex spouses in the 80s. But rereads found Gert and Hansi and Felice and Amarie less shocking.

3) Include a transgressively happy ending. There are enough Dead Queer books around. The happy ending challenges the social norm that gays must be miserable or dead by the end of the book.

4) Move money from the reader's pocket to my own in exchange for this story. Again,
every writer's agenda.

Think and know your agenda. It makes for better writing.

2009-09-08T10:05:00.000-07:00

QUEER DIMENSIONS presents queer futures in an
exciting collection of 17 science fiction tales from
both new and established authors.

Ebook available now.
Print available Sept 21

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/3812*
35% Discount off the RRP
Coupon Code: MN24S (code is not case sensitive)
Expires: September 21, 2009
Coupon Code is valid only at SmashWords for a limited period. SmashWords provides a wide range of formats and the purchaser is available to select whichever format is desired.

Guest blogger at Live Journal

2009-08-30T15:03:00.001-07:00

Charlie Doyle, from CURSE OF THE PHARAOH'S MANICURISTS, is blogging at my LJ tonight.

http://valarltd.livejournal.com/1015060.html

A few words

2009-08-30T07:03:00.000-07:00

Good morning, faithful readers.

In the next few weeks you're going to be asking "Holy cow, how does she write so fast?" I have two short stories coming out in mid-September, a novel in October and one in December. This on top of a novel in February, two in July and today.

That makes six novels and three short story collections for 2009. Maybe four, if Queer Dimensions comes out.

So, how do I write so much?
The answer is simple: I don't.

What you are seeing, friends and neighbors, is the fruit of two, sometimes three years of work. And it's all coming ripe at once.

Niko-Chan was started in Jan 2006. Glad Hands was written in November 2006. Alive on the Inside came from November 2007.

So as the wheel turns into autumn, enjoy the cornucopia of Brooks and Sparrow. Because next year? There won't be much. We've been editing all year long and only produced three short stories and a children's book.

Book Announcement

2009-08-30T06:58:00.000-07:00

Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists
Publisher: Amber Allure
Genre: Historical/Paranormal/adventure
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-566-9 (Electronic)
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-843-1 (Paperback)
Release Date: 08/30/2009
Length: Novel

Blurb:
In the roaring '20s, Charlie Doyle, the ink still wet on his Dartmouth journalism degree, answers an ad for a job as secretary to Edward Kilsby, Lord Withycombe and renowned flying ace of the Great War. The ad leads him to expect excitement, but Charlie never expects quite so much.

When Edward is hired to find missing archaeologist Sir Alexander Spencer, Charlie is about to go for the ride of his life. A whirlwind tour of London, the Paris nightlife, a kidnapping by Edward's jilted fiancée and rival, Cairo, the Valley of the Kings, even the Orient Express all pale compared to what awaits Charlie and Edward in the tomb of Ni-ankh-khnum and Khnum-ho-tep, Overseers of the Manicurists in the Palace of the King.

But not mummies nor jilted lovers, not malaria nor Anubis himself can stop their quest...or their growing love for each other...

Buy
Website
Blog

Today's post of content: Editing

2009-08-23T11:02:00.000-07:00

Editing.

Oh dear Bird, I hate editing.
I have been stuck in that special place called Editing Hell all year.
It's been worth it. I have three novels and a short story currently out, two more novels and two shorts forthcoming before the end of the year.

What bugs me most? The time. The time it takes to read a novel for the fifth time (that's four novels I can't add to my 50 Book project list!) hunting out stray commas and missing words. The time I'm not creating, despite screaming muses.

On the other hand...I've read half-edited books.
Even well-edited ones occasionally miss something.
The last two mass-market paperbacks I bought had editing errors, but only 1 per book. It was a your/you're confusion for one and an its/it's.

My favorite bit of bad proofing is a priest telling his acolyte to "light the censors."

And that is why I edit. So no one can say I don't know ~~my ass from a hole in the ground~~ the difference between censors and censers and sensors.

The Ticky box went out for ice cream three questions ago

2009-08-23T10:57:00.000-07:00

Hi.

I'm very bad about keeping up this blog. I tend to treat it as a promo place and do all my real stuff over at Live Journal. I want to change that.

So, the new idea:
I'll post at least once a week.

My readers have said they would like to see, in this order
Book announcements
Writing process posts
Book reviews of what I'm reading.
Missing scenes, whether fully written or just in chat

There might even be the occasional guest blogger, despite the fact most weren't interested.

Leave a note in the comments for what else you might like to see.
I'd eventually like to have this become more of a conversation and less me shouting an ?empty? room.

Finally winding down

2009-08-10T10:49:00.000-07:00

All my edits are in.
My con plans are made. I'm about ready to order my book stock for Dragon Con.

I get a break, for a while.

A good thing too. Nick has been bugging me to write something new.

It's here!

2009-07-24T13:39:00.000-07:00

Heart of a Forest, a tale of Robin Hood and Maid Marion, is now available from Ellora's Cave.

BLURB:
In 1199, King Richard the Lion-Hearted lay dying in France. He commanded his lover, Sir David of Doncaster, to protect his small son by any means necessary.

Marion Fitzroy, princess of the blood on the wrong side of the blankets, now lives a constrained life in Nottingham castle, dreaming of her childhood betrothed, the son of the Earl of Locksley. As the Barons’ War rages around her uncle King John, her dispossessed fiancé—now called Robin Hood—and his merry irregulars make life miserable for Phillip, the sheriff of Nottingham.

Robin, for his part, is about to learn the secret that Marion guards with her life. Thwarting Phillip’s gambits for Marion’s hand, a doubled price on his head, even shooting for an arrow of pure gold all pale next to the pleasures to be had in his beloved Marion's arms, deep in the heart of Sherwood Forest.

EXCERPT:

Robin pulled her so close she could feel his large body all against her own. Her prick, stirring from the moment he had arrived, now came fully awake. She could feel his as well and a strong desire to hold it seized her. But that was far too forward.

He kissed her, bending her back just a little with the force of it. His mouth moved hotly on hers, his tongue brushing her lips. She parted them a little and he slipped inside. His tongue pressed hers and then up to the roof of her mouth. She reeled from excitement, her heat rising until she thought she might faint. She knew he would hold her if she did and that too excited her.

Her breath came in short sharp bursts when he released her, as if she had run up all the stairs to the tower. She smiled at him, his face still above hers and very close. “Does a princess of the blood kiss as well as a peasant girl?” she whispered.
Robin smiled and shook his head. “Nay. Better, much better. As far beyond that milkmaid who turned you red as the moon is beyond the millpond.”

Marion smiled. “Then meat to the beggar for charity, in the name of our Lady. And payment again for you, in the same.” She kissed him again, learning quickly from him and returning his pleasure threefold.

He caressed her face when they parted and she looked up into his twinkling eyes, their color uncertain in the moonlight. There were many things she wished to say but none she could shape at this instant. Her thoughts were consumed by the heat between them.

From behind her, Marion heard a light tread and a loud cough. “My lady, this is quite unseemly,” Bess scolded.

Robin leapt back, his face that of a small boy caught stealing a pie cooling on a windowsill.

Bess looked him up and down scornfully. “A bit late to be peddling your meat, is it not? I thought you quite spent.”

"All but one piece for I saw my lady interested in it.” Remorse having failed to soothe the stern old woman, Marion watched as he smoothed on charm, smiling and flashing his dimples at her nurse.

Bess was not charmed and shot a stern look at Robin's tunic front and Marion's own dress. She scowled. “And was she indeed? Be off with you, mad blade, and do not trouble my lady Marion again.”

Marion whirled on her lady, speaking sharply to her for the first time in her life. “Bess, hold your tongue. You would speak so to the Earl of Locksley?”

Robin shifted and Marion saw him try coaxing his own serpent into submission. “Former earl, my lady.”

Bess grasped Marion's hand. “When he is the earl again, he may come seeking your hand. Until then, my lady, I will keep a firm grip on it.”

Robin bowed, understanding what Bess said, as well as what she did not. Marion heard as well and knew Robin would return to her like the birds in spring, since he now had Bess' permission.

"I'll not keep you from your rest, my ladies.” He sat on the balcony rail and grasped the vine to climb down.

Marion broke free and embraced him once more. “Goodnight, sweet Robin. Fly away. It is too dark for you to be out.” She watched as he made his way down. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Bess dragged her in for bed and Marion did not protest.

Book Giveaway

2009-07-05T18:52:00.000-07:00

Dominic is giving away an ARC of Paul Jessup's surrealist space opera, Open Your Eyes.

For more details, go to http://paladinfreelance.blogspot.com

Niko-chan now available.

2009-07-02T13:03:00.001-07:00

http://www.darkroastpress.com/nikochan.php

Upcoming Debauches

2009-06-23T16:53:00.000-07:00

June27: Nikochan release
Aug 31: Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists e-book
Mid Sept: Manicurists in paperback
Sept 21: Ellora's Cavemen 3, with "Cherry Tart"
October: Shell-shocked.

Currently accepted and/or edited:
"Plumbing the Depths" for Queered Dimensions
"Skyway Robbery" for Like a Corset Unlaced

Currently out:
"Bewteen Despair and Ecstacy" for Blood Fruit
Showdown at Yellowstone River

News

2009-06-22T08:01:00.000-07:00

Niko-Chan comes out this Saturday!
http://www.darkroastpress.com/

And we have a cover!

Manicurists comes out Aug 31.

Robin Hood blurb

2009-06-18T18:57:00.000-07:00

In 1199, King Richard the Lion-Hearted lay dying in France. He commanded his lover, Sir David of Doncaster, to protect his small son by any means necessary.

Marion Fitzroy, princess of the blood on the wrong side of the blankets, now lives a constrained life in Nottingham castle, dreaming of her childhood betrothed, the son of the Earl of Locksley. As the Barons' War rages around her uncle King John, her dispossessed fiancé, now called Robin Hood, and his merry irregulars make life miserable for Phillip, the sheriff of Nottingham.

Robin, for his part, is about to learn the secret that Marion guards with her life. Thwarting Phillip's gambits for Marion's hand, a doubled price on his head, even shooting for an arrow of pure gold all pale next to the pleasures to be had under Marion's skirts, deep in the heart of Sherwood Forest.

News from the Den of Debauchery

2009-06-07T22:13:00.000-07:00

Amber Quill announced Lord Withycombe and the Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists will be coming out August 30. The print will come a couple weeks later. So I won't have it for Dragon*con, but I can do postcards.

Dark Roast Press announced that Niko-Chan will be available June 27. This is the Nikolai sequel.

Also, writerly types: Can anyone commit to giving us a cover quote for Manicurists? I'll send a proof copy.

It's May, It's May, the month of "yes you may."

2009-05-11T09:07:00.000-07:00

We finished the first edits of Heart of the Forest and are still waiting to hear on a bunch of stuff.

Niko-chan is the next release. Then Ellora's Cavemen, with our story "Cherry tart." This is one of our rare het efforts.

Otherwise, we're not up to much, just endless rewrites.

We're starting either ManHunt or a fairy novel in July.

Niko-Chan cover!

2009-04-27T11:55:00.000-07:00

Pending blurb:
Nick Boyd passed his Test, a grueling challenge to prove his worthiness to serve James Ligatos, one of the ruling cabal called The Eight. Now, he finds himself swept from his native Memphis to The Eight's training compound outside of Rome.

In the city called The Great Harlot, Nick must learn new lessons, from the mysterious Mistress Benta, from his tutor, Steven, and from the imposing Master Michelino. When he fails to learn fast enough, he is sold to become a Daughter of the Dragon...

Don't dream it. Be it, (Xpost from LJ))

2009-03-31T17:12:00.000-07:00

One thing that bothered me about MidSouth Con was the number of people who talked to me about the books they want to write.

Not "have written."
Not "are writing."
But "want to write."

There were some really good ideas in there, including a unique take on time travel. I encouraged every one of them to write it up. Most just sort of sighed and shook their heads. No time. Not enough skills. Not good enough to do it justice.

There is only one way to be a writer: WRITE

Sit down and write the story.
It may not be all you dreamed or envisioned.
It may not make you much, or any money.
Write it anyway.

People may not get it.
People may get it and hate it.
Write it anyway.
The story does no one any good sitting in your head waiting for Someday.
Someday when I'm good enough.
Someday when I have time.
Someday when I'm not blocked.
There is no someday. There is today. You get 24 hours, just like the rest of us. If you need to write, if it gnaws until you can't see straight and MUST get it out on paper before you go mad, you'll make time.

Harlan Ellison says "If you can be discouraged, you should be."
Poppy Brite reminds us that only 2% of writers make a living at it.
Write anyway.

All of the above is summed up in one word: fear. Being a writer is big and scary. I still feel like Wiley E. Coyote who has run out of cliff when I send a story to an editor.
Feel the fear. Do it anyway.

If you want to be a writer, write.
If you want to be an author, submit.

But don't wait. Tempus keeps right on fugiting, faithful readers. And better a piece you weren't quite ready to handle than one you never started out of fear.

Here endeth the lesson.
(today's sermonette brought to you by the Yew: Perseverance leads to achievement)

Reviews

2009-03-23T20:06:00.000-07:00

I got a great review from Joyfully Reviewed on Eight Days Ablaze:
http://joyfullyreviewed.com/reviews/Mar09/eightdaysablaze.AS.html
"a charmingly different tale that kept me engaged from start to finish and is a holiday story that will be on my mind all year ‘round."

Glad Hands is going over very well

Five Nymph review from Lit Nymphs:
http://literarynymphsreviewsonly.blogspot.com/2009/03/glad-hands.html
"Angelia Sparrow and Naomi Brooks bring the thunder with Glad Hands."

Four stars from Rainbow Reviews
http://rainbow-reviews.com/?p=1053
"This is one of those fast reads that you just cannot put down until you are finished."

Elisa enjoyed it
http://rainbow-reviews.com/?p=1053

Val called it outstanding.
http://www.obsidianbookshelf.com/html/gladhands.html
"I highly recommend Glad Hands, an outstanding read that may easily turn out to be the best fiction I get my hands on this year."

Reading and Signing

2009-03-13T12:49:00.001-07:00

Tonight!
7 PM
892 S. Cooper (The Memphis Gay and Lesbian Community Center)

Angelia Sparrow, local GLBT romance author, will be reading from her latest works.

Nikolai:
James Ligatos is a man with an unusual hobby. He turns promising young criminals into world leaders. His latest project is Nicholas Boyd, formerly Nikolai of the Revenant street gang. But the little killer-turned-file-clerk is much more than Ligatos and his staff bargained for.

As Kentucky attempts to secede from the Confederated States of America and rejoin the United States, Nick's skills and the group's training are put to the ultimate test, and the price of failure is death

AND

Glad Hands
Chuck rolls his rig across the no-longer-United States, from Montana to Arkansas. He expects a fast run with no complications. What he doesn’t expect is Seven, a pretty blue-eyed drifter who turns not only his head but makes his blood boil.

His gayness tattooed into his very skin, Seven needs Chuck’s help to escape the very limited life Heartland forces upon him. And when the even more repressive Confederated States take an interest, Chuck and Seven are in for the ride of their lives.

Read An Ebook Week

2009-03-09T06:25:00.000-07:00

In honor of Read An Ebook Week, Naomi and I are offering a copy of our short story, "Tuition Fees: The Devil."

Click here to Download

More books are always available at The Website

March Madness Promo Tour

2009-03-06T12:21:00.001-08:00

March madness promo tour
I just realized, I'm doing promo stuff every week in March.

Tonight, March 6,
7 pm Central
Interview, aired live at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Circle-Of-Seven There is also active chat session online.

After the show is aired, it is available for download at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Circle-Of-Seven

March 13
7 pm Central
Reading and Book signing
Memphis Gay and Lesbian Community Center
892 S. Cooper Street
Memphis TN
I'll be reading from Nikolai and Glad Hands, and signing books.
(Books for sale include Nikolai $10
Flipped Fables
Torqued Tales
Taboo Treats, all $15,
all books are trade paperbacks)

March 21-23
MidSouth Con, Memphis
03/21/2009 23:00:00 Paranormal Romance
03/22/2009 14:00:00 Is the Short Story Dead?
03/22/2009 16:00:00 Darrell Award Finalist Reading
03/22/2009 17:00:00 Banquet

I'll be reading from "Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch," and I'll be available in the Dealer's room.

Glad Hands is out!

2009-02-25T13:10:00.001-08:00

http://www. jasminejade. com/pm-6878-489-glad-hands. aspx

Chuck rolls his rig across the no-longer-United States, from Montana to Arkansas. He expects a fast run with no complications. What he doesn’t expect is Seven, a pretty blue-eyed drifter who turns not only his head but makes his blood boil.

His gayness tattooed into his very skin, Seven needs Chuck’s help to escape the very limited life Heartland forces upon him. And when the even more repressive Confederated States take an interest, Chuck and Seven are in for the ride of their lives.

Free books

2009-02-12T13:05:00.000-08:00

http://valarltd.livejournal.com/2009/02/01/

The contest is still open! You can get a copy of Glad Hands.

ZOMG!

2009-02-06T16:46:00.001-08:00

I have the proof copy of the Nikolai trade paperback. Yes, it's Print on Demand, with my publisher's permission (until they get that side of operations going). The first demand order was 2 for a pair of charity auctions.

There will be paperbacks available soon. But let the winners have an exclusive for a while.

New website look and New contes

2009-02-01T06:55:00.000-08:00

The Den of Debaucery has an awesome new look thanks to Naomi.
Go check it out:
http://www.angelsparrow.com

Also, we're having a new contest for the month of February.

To celebrate a new release and a new website, we're giving away not one, not two but THREE copies of Glad Hands! To win, simply create a description of a BPAL (Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab)- style scent for any character in any of Naomi and/or Angelia's books!

A complete character list is posted.

The three winners will be Angelia's favorite, Naomi's favorite, and a People's Choice, decided by a poll. Entries close Feb 20.

Send your scent description to contest@angelsparrow.com

New site and contest

2009-01-31T19:17:00.001-08:00

Naomi and I decided it was time to overhaul
http://www.angelsparrow.com

So she's done up an excellent new design (authors, if you like it, she does this professionally. Drop her an e-mail) and to celebrate the new site and new release (Feb 25), we're holding an exciting new contest!

Watch this space for details!

Deliciously Decadengt December: Cat Burglar

2009-01-01T15:40:00.000-08:00

Come celebrate the last day of Deliciously Decadent December with Ellora's Cave Author, Shelley Munro.

Cat Burglar by Shelley Munro
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Genre: Paranormal Shapeshifter
ISBN: 9781419918308
Release Date: 12/31/2008
Length: Novel

Blurb:Laura Adams is a cop with ambition, and a job in Middlemarch
isn't what she wants for her future. Hooking up with the wrong man is
responsible for the wrong turning, and she refuses to repeat the
mistake, especially with a sexy thief.

Leopard shifter Jonno Campbell takes one look at Laura and desires
her as his mate. He's enthralled with the fiery cop, and when she
arrests him, he's ready for a strip search. Convincing Laura he's
innocent and that they should work together to capture the thieves
stealing from Middlemarch residents isn't easy. A kiss laced with his
easy charm does the trick and sparks fly. Passion escalates into
primitive hunger. A night of hot loving convinces Jonno. He wants
forever with the gorgeous Laura, but her ambition, his feline
heritage and a gang of thieves stand in the way of his progress. Then
there's the ex-boyfriend who wants Laura back. This time charisma and
erotic promises might not be enough to win the lady.

Buy
Excerpt
Website
Blog

Want your own copy of Cat Burglar? Leave a comment here and be entered to win.Can't think of anything to say? Tell me if you think a leopard can change its spots. Can a bad boy turn into one who is great marriage material? Do you think you can kick your old/bad habits and turn over a new leaf for 2009?

Shelley Munro
Samantha Kane
Cheryl Dragon
Amy Ruttan
Aubrey Ross
LA Day
Emma Petersen

Wanna find out where the Deliciously Decadent December authors will be next? Join our Yahoo group for updates and chances to win copies of our latest releases. Click here to join.

Rules:
1. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win.
2. Winner will be chosen at random via Random.org
3. You can enter a total of 9 times by leaving a comment on each Triple D author’s blog but you will only allowed to win once.
4. You must be 18 and older to enter and/or win.
5. You must collect your prize within 10 days of prize announcement or prize is null & void.

Deliciously Decadent December: Eight Days Ablaze

2008-12-23T16:57:00.000-08:00

Come Celebrate a Deliciously Decadent December with Ellora’s Cave Author, Angelia Sparrow.

Eight Days Ablaze
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Genre: Futuristic
ISBN: 9781419918520
Release Date: 12/24/2008
Length: Quickie

Blurb:
awyer Adina barJonas loves Hanukkah. And her Papa gives the best gifts. This year, it's the VirtualClone Box, for “a fully integrated sensory experience.” Adina uses it to argue law, meet her heroes and thoroughly indulge herself with some very sexy men over the eight nights of the holiday.

But, Papa and her Uncle David have their own agenda, as always, and Adina finds that enjoying her new toy has played right into their hands.

Buy
Excerpt
Website
Blog

Want your own copy of "Eight Days Ablaze?"
Leave a comment here and be entered to win.

Can't think of anything to say? Tell me what piece of cyber-ware you are eagerly anticipating.

For more chances to win visit the other Triple D author blogs.

Shelley Munro
Samantha Kane
Cheryl Dragon
Amy Ruttan
Aubrey Ross
LA Day
Emma Petersen

Wanna find out where the Deliciously Decadent December authors will be next? Join our Yahoo group for updates and chances to win copies of our latest releases. Click here to join.

Rules:
1. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win.
2. Winner will be chosen at random via Random.org
3. You can enter a total of 9 times by leaving a comment on each Triple D author’s blog but you will only allowed to win once.
4. You must be 18 and older to enter and/or win.
5. You must collect your prize within 10 days of prize announcement or prize is null & void.

Deliciously Decadent December Winners to date

2008-12-20T17:31:00.000-08:00

Here's a complete winner list:
Lindseye - Emma's Seducing St. Nic
Lexee - Amy's Rain God
Fedora - Aubrey's Crimson Prey
Cathy M - Cheryl's Quintuplets
Karin - LA's Greek Temptation

Desert of the Damned

2008-12-20T17:21:00.000-08:00

Come Celebrate a Deliciously Decadent December with Ellora’s Cave Author, Kathy Kulig.

Desert of the Damned
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Genre: Shape-shifter
ISBN: 9781419919527
Release Date: 12/19/08
Length: Plus novel

Blurb:
While working on an environmental project in the Arizona desert, research scientist Amy Weston finds herself caught in the war between two men. Dante Akanto lures her into the desert to explore the dark side of her passions, pleasuring her in ways she never thought possible with his bizarre sex games. And park ranger Jake Montag has a compelling mysticism and powerful sensuality that's impossible to resist.

But the two men, demon and shapeshifter, are engaged in a supernatural fight between worlds. Amy and her high level of life force energy is the key. Dante's world and his immortality depend on claiming her as his own. The choice Amy makes between the two men will affect both her world and her future.

Buy
Excerpt

Website

Want your very own copy of Kathy’s Desert of the Damned? Leave a
comment and you'll be entered to win an ebook copy of this release.

For more chances to win visit the other Triple D author blogs.

Shelley Munro
Samantha Kane
Cheryl Dragon
Amy Ruttan
Aubrey Ross
LA Day
Emma Petersen

Wanna find out where the Deliciously Decadent December authors will be next? Join our Yahoo group for updates and chances to win copies of our latest releases. Click here to join.

Rules:
1. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win.
2. Winner will be chosen at random via Random.org
3. You can enter a total of 9 times by leaving a comment on each Triple D author’s blog but you will only allowed to win once.
4. You must be 18 and older to enter and/or win.
5. You must collect your prize within 10 days of prize announcement or prize is null & void.

Retreat From Love

2008-12-20T17:12:00.000-08:00

Come Celebrate a Deliciously Decadent December with Ellora’s Cave Author, Samantha Kane.

RETREAT FROM LOVE (Brothers In Arms)

Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Genre: Historical/menage, gay, Regency
ISBN: 9781419919428*
*Release Date: 12/17/08
Length: Plus Novel

Price: $7.99

Blurb:

Brothers In Arms Book Five

A man with everything except his heart's desire. Frederick Thorne, Duke of Ashland, has been in love with Brett Haversham for years. If the only way to have him is to give him what he wants Freddy will share him, in bed and out, with the woman Brett loves. The woman who was Freddy's first love.

A man sacrificing everything for the past. Brett Haversham is in love with two people he's sworn never to touch. But his desires prove to be stronger than his resolve when they both set out to seduce him--together. The incredible sex they share overwhelms him.

A woman with nothing left to lose. Anne Goode lost her fiance Bertie in the war. Now his younger brother Freddy is back, all grown up into the handsome and powerful duke. And he's brought Bertie's best friend Brett with him. Lonely and already
ruined, Anne can't resist taking both of them as her lovers. Is the uncontrollable desire between the three enough to heal the wounds of the past and overcome the problems of the present? They must accept love rather than retreat from it.

Buy
Excerpt
Blog
Website

Want your very own copy of Samantha Kane's /Retreat From Love? Leave a
comment and you'll be entered to win an ebook copy of this release.

Not sure what to comment about? Here's an idea. What is your favorite
sub-genre of historical romance? Regency? Georgian? Old West? Or
something more exotic or unusual?

For more chances to win visit the other Triple D author blogs.

Shelley Munro
Cheryl Dragon
Amy Ruttan
Aubrey Ross
LA Day
Emma Petersen

Wanna find out where the Deliciously Decadent December authors will be next? Join our Yahoo group for updates and chances to win copies of our latest releases. Click here to join.

Rules:
1. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win.
2. Winner will be chosen at random via Random.org
3. You can enter a total of 9 times by leaving a comment on each Triple D author’s blog but you will only allowed to win once.
4. You must be 18 and older to enter and/or win.
5. You must collect your prize within 10 days of prize announcement or prize is null & void.

More December Decadence

2008-12-14T07:15:00.000-08:00

Greek Temptation by L.A. Day

Publisher: Ellora's Cave
ISBN eBook: 9781419917431
Genre: Exotika, Menage, M/M/F
Length: Quickie
Release Date: December 12, 2008

Blurb:
Lykaios Diotrephes owns the ruin and invites her to stay at his villa. He's tall, dark and gorgeous and just a glance sends shivers down her spine.

Mate with me or die.

Lykaios is alpha and with only one day left until the Herangetta mating ritual, he must convince Samantha to mate with him and Arcas—a younger male, as beautiful as Lykaios, who is his second, his lover. He knows that if she doesn't, she'll die. How do you convince someone to believe in lycan customs if they don't believe in lycans? Lykaios and Arcas set out to seduce Samantha. She must accept them both…for life.

Reader Advisory: This book contains male/male sex and a public sex scene.

Buy

Excerpt

Blog

Website

Want your very own copy of L.A. Day's, Greek Temptation? Leave a comment and you'll be entered to win an ebook copy of this release.

For more chances to win visit the other Triple D author blogs.

Shelley Munro

Samantha Kane

Cheryl Dragon

Amy Ruttan

Aubrey Ross

L.A. Day

Emma Petersen

Wanna find out where the Deliciously Decadent December authors will be next? Join our Yahoo group for updates and chances to win copies of our latest releases. Click here to join.

Rules:

1. Leave a comment and you'll be entered to win.
2. Winner will be chosen at random via Random.org
3. You can enter a total of 9 times by leaving a comment on each Triple D author's blog but you will only allowed to win once.
4. You must be 18 and older to enter and/or win.
5. You must collect your prize within 10 days of prize announcement or prize is null & void.

Here's Laura's question for everyone.

Heroes in LA Day's books tend to be Alpha Males. What you like or dislike about Alpha Males?

Crimson Prey by Aubrey Ross

2008-12-05T17:13:00.000-08:00

Come Celebrate a Deliciously Decadent December with Ellora’s Cave Author Aubrey Ross.

Crimson Prey by Aubrey Ross
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
ISBN eBook: 9781419918926
Genre: Vampire
Length: Novella
Release Date: December 5, 2008

Blurb:
Loved the characters, the heat and the thought of an enthralling hero sinking his teeth into your neck in Crimson Thrall? Then get set for more passion, more intensity and a bigger bite!

Six centuries have passed since a treacherous enemy wrested Antonio’s love from his bed. He was outmatched and overpowered before, but nothing will keep him from claiming Serafina now—not even Serafina herself. Wild with hunger and a soul-deep longing, he declares a Bride Hunt, an ancient ritual most vampires abandoned centuries before.

Serafina endured a loveless marriage for the sake of her sisters. Now her husband’s death has freed her to think of her own happiness. Before she can decide how to flex her independence, she’s being hunted by a domineering, if utterly desirable, vampire bent on binding her soul to his. Antonio awakens sensations and ignites responses she never experienced with her husband, but is physical pleasure reason enough to spend eternity at his side?

Buy

Excerpt

Aubrey’s Blog

Aubrey’s Website

Want your very own copy of Aubrey’s Crimson Prey? Leave a comment and you'll be entered to win an ebook copy of this release.

For more chances to win visit the other Triple D author blogs.

Emma Petersen
Shelley Munro
Amy Ruttan
L.A. Day
Cheryl Dragon
Samantha Kane

Wanna find out where the Deliciously Decadent December authors will be next? Join our Yahoo group for updates and chances to win copies of our latest releases. Click here to join.

Rules:
1. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win.
2. Winner will be chosen at random via Random.org
3. You can enter a total of 9 times by leaving a comment on each Triple D author’s blog but you will only allowed to win once.
4. You must be 18 and older to enter and/or win.
5. You must collect your prize within 10 days of prize announcement or prize is null & void.

Don’t know what to comment on? Here’s an idea! Why is the vampire genre so popular? What do you like or dislike about the concept?

Deliciously Decadent December, Post 1

2008-12-03T04:46:00.000-08:00

Come Celebrate a Deliciously Decadent December with Ellora’s Cave Authors Cheryl Dragon and Amy Ruttan. Wanna find out where the Deliciously Decadent December authors will be next? Join our yahoo! group for updates and chances to win copies of our latest releases. Click here to join.

Quintupled by Cheryl Dragon
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
ISBN eBook: 9781419914676
Genre: Paranormal Ménage Erotica
Length: Novella
Release Date: December 3, 2008

Organic witch Serena Troy is used to having all sorts of wild sex in her job as a senior agent in the Sexual Misconduct Division of the Supernatural Enforcement Agency. But when her trainee Josh splits into five individuals, each with a different insatiable kink, she has to track them all down and reunite them before he ends up dead or irrevocably altered.

Organic witch Serena Troy is used to having all sorts of wild sex in her job as a senior agent in the Sexual Misconduct Division of the Supernatural Enforcement Agency. But when her trainee Josh splits into five individuals, each with a different insatiable kink, she has to track them all down and reunite them before he ends up dead or irrevocably altered.But even this free-spirited organic has her own taboos, and Serena has to face hers to save Josh. From werewolf orgies to vampire blood banquets and caveman retreats, she sees—and engages in—more sex in one day than most people have in a decade. It’s a kinky job, but someone has to do it.

Organic witch Serena Troy is used to having all sorts of wild sex in her job as a senior agent in the Sexual Misconduct Division of the Supernatural Enforcement Agency. But when her trainee Josh splits into five individuals, each with a different insatiable kink, she has to track them all down and reunite them before he ends up dead or irrevocably altered.But even this free-spirited organic has her own taboos, and Serena has to face hers to save Josh. From werewolf orgies to vampire blood banquets and caveman retreats, she sees—and engages in—more sex in one day than most people have in a decade. It’s a kinky job, but someone has to do it.

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-6758-50-quintupled.aspx
Excerpt Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/productspecs/9781419914676.htm
Blog: www.myspace.com/cheryldragon
Website: http://www.cheryldragon.com/

Rain God by Amy Ruttan
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Genre: Sci-Fi/Futuristic Erotic Romance
Length: Quickie
Release Date: December 3
A thousand years in the future there is no water on Earth and the Interstellar Space Organization is finding a way to bring it back, but the Hazoor faction is intent on stopping them. On a mission to the dead planet, sexy Commander Shana Kelley discovers a mysterious cavern and a turquoise stone. Not what it seems, the stone contains an ancient rain god who claims he can make the water come, but on one condition, she must come first, mating with him deep inside the cavern. Shana gives in to all her erotic desires, letting T’koh, the sensual rain god, show her the power of water over life.

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/
Excerpt Link:http://www.jasminejade.com/
Amy’s Blog: http://amyruttan.com/blog/
Amy’s Website: http://amyruttan.com/index.html

Want your very own copy of Cheryl’s Quintupled or Amy’s Rain God? Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win an ebook copy of these releases.

Rules:

1. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win.
2. Winner will be chosen at random via Random.org
3. You can enter a total of 9 times by leaving a comment on each Triple D author’s blog but you will only allowed to win once.
4. You must be 18 and older to enter and/or win.
5. You must collect your prize within 10 days of prize announcement or prize is null & void.

Don’t know what to comment on? Here’s an idea!
Why is the ménage genre so popular? What do you like or dislike about the concept?

November Contest

2008-11-10T11:21:00.000-08:00

The November Contest is a Photo Scavenger Hunt.

Go here for clues: http://valarltd.livejournal.com/883601.html

Answers are found on my website, http://www.angelsparrow.com ,in book decriptions.

Leave a comment on the livejournal post to win either a complete set of Gay Christmas Werewolf Stories or an alternate prize if you have them all.

A winner will be drawn randomly on Dec 6, from all the correct answers.

My first Ellora's Cave Print release

2008-11-09T21:28:00.000-08:00

Better late than never!
My halloween story, "Raising the Dead," is included in this print collection from Ellora's Cave.
Click cover to see more, but be warned, it's heavy BDSM.

And isn't the cover HOT? So much sexier than Corey, my 80's reject, on the original, whose head was pasted on, yay.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

2008-10-31T05:38:00.000-07:00

You know that Steampunk Lesbian vs. Zombies thing I've been talking about for about a year and a half, if not two?

Yeah, it's available.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

Catherine McAllister didn't expect to be widowed in Indian Territory, her husband dead in a freak accident. When her neighbor and best friend Amanda is left alone as well, the women move in together. Soon, they find friendship was the least of it, and settle in as a married couple to make a go of their joint homestead.

When zombies begin devouring their livestock, they treat the invaders like any other predator. Aided by Amanda's mother-in-law, Half-Moon, Catherine leads the local homesteaders in defense of all their wives and children.

Excerpt: MIskatonic Mistletoe

2008-10-26T07:21:00.000-07:00

This is the fourth in my Gay Christmas Werewolves series.
Available here

It is thirteen miles by interstate from the insane asylum in Danvers to Route 113, which takes the traveler into the ancient city of Newburyport. The old coast road through Innsmouth, Rowley and Ispwich is longer, older and much narrower. The sprawling Boston metroplex sends out squamous suburbs, growths that threaten to swallow the whole of the state. Already, the twisting streets and oddly uniform houses creep down Highway One to Providence and up Route Three to Nashua. The world seems very small and urban and hardly the place for fear and the unnameable. The Space Age and Information Age have both come and gone.

So, of course, no one would have believed the two older men who stepped out of the little Ford wagon, on this gorgeous spring morning of the Lower Miskatonic Valley, were anything other than human.

“I don’t like it, elf,” Corin Faw growled at his half-Sidhe mate as he looked up and down the street of Arkham Massachusettes. “It smells wrong. All kinds of wrong.” He sniffed again. Under the smells of spring melt and damp earth, under tulips and hyacinth and green leaves and pear blossoms, he scented decay and death and something that whispered of seas and stars and things best left undisturbed at the bottom of them.

Cian O’Brian came around the car to his mate. “Arȗn, my own sweet wolf, it is wrong. There is ancient evil here. Here is where we are needed.”

“Aye,” Corin growled, his nose still twitching. He unlocked the hatch. “We’re to fight evil from a tea shop. And not just a tea shop, but Miska-Tonics Tea and Herb Shoppe.” He pronounced the extra p and e with scorn.

Still, he had to admit that there was nothing wrong with the two-story frame building whose gambrel roof, butted back against a hill, almost to the point where a person could climb the hill and right onto the roof. The colorful sign on the veranda, the daffodils and hyacinth dancing in the flowerbed and the lace curtains in the windows gave the place a cheerful air, even if it did look a bit like that place in Amityville which was on the market suspiciously cheaply. The spring woods, just showing the first yellow-green leaves, came right to the back door.

“Love, you know the Sight is not always clear. It took us to Memphis for Danior and now it brings us here. Take what comes.”

Corin growled again. The bites and wounds he had taken last fall in Memphis, in futile defense of Danior and his pack from the ravening power-thirst of Danior’s uncle Zoltan, still ached on damp days. He was not a young wolf any more. He got the bags from the car, making sure Cian saw the bite-scar on his arm from Zoltan’s teeth. “Not playin’ fairy godfather to pair of pups again, I’m not.” His brogue thickened, as it always did when he was irritable.

Cian laughed at him and lifted a portfolio of papers from the front seat. “Of course not. And you didn’t instigate the last game of Tail-Chase with them either.”

“Yer in trouble, elf,” he snorted.

Cian gave his most charming smile and Corin felt the faintest tingle of sidhe magic at the edges of it. “Have I told you I love you recently?”

“Ah, you'll not get out of this with your flattering fae tongue, O'Brian.” Corin set the bags down at the foot of the stairs. “More stairs. You couldn't find a place with the apartment in the back? Just how good do you think my knees are in my old age?”

Cian laughed and ruffled Corin's grizzled hair. He set down the last box of fragile knick-knacks and picked up his suitcase. “I'll make sure the next one has living quarters adjoining, Corin darling.” He caught the glance Corin shot the bed when they reached the loft apartment and laughed again as he put his suitcase in closet. “And shall we break the house in proper? Or at least the bedroom?”

Corin growled low in his throat and set the last boxes down. “Insatiable fae,” he rumbled. He caught Cian and pressed him to the covers. It was the new moon, so he was at his most human, with no threat of the wolf. Despite this, he did love pouncing.

“Aye, always, love.” Cian drew him down for a kiss, his hands in Corin's thick, graying hair.

An interview!

2008-10-24T19:07:00.001-07:00

Alyssa Brooks has interviewed Nick Boyd, of Nikolai at her Slip Between the Sheet blog. Go and enjoy.

Serpents

2008-10-20T05:51:00.000-07:00

From Shifting Back, an anthology of historical shifters.

Available here

Of all the djinn in all the deserts of Arabia, Arqam was the most curious. He never passed a human dwelling, as he rode the night winds, without stopping to peer inside. He never passed a chest or jar, but he had to peek within.

All the elder djinn said he would come to bad end and it was his grandmother's human blood making him such trouble. None of them were surprised the day he was taken.

Arqam had ventured far to the east, leaving behind the sand and oases of his native Arabia, into the lush jungles of India, where the foreign white men ruled the local people. He listened to the clipped accents of the English, the soft music of the Indians. He peered into bungalows and huts, disregarding the privacy of Her Royal Majesty's Major General and the lowest of the pariahs with equal aplomb.

He watched the brown women in their colorful saris and the pale ones covered and corseted and fainting in the heat. He watched the men as they worked. In time, he grew sleepy and made a hammock of vines near the outskirts of a small village.

As he lolled in the steaming night, a distant cousin found him. “Arqam,” it hissed, its low guttural voice making him uneasy.

“Yes?” He peered over the edge of the hammock and saw what had addressed him. Although ghuls were a sort of djinn, Arqam's people had little contact with them. They served Iblis and haunted the graveyards. His folk lived invisible in the air. Arqam looked around but saw no graves. “May I help you, cousin?”

“I am Shahib, the fire that consumes the dead. Why do you wander so far away? No mind, all have heard of Arqam, how he sticks his long beautiful nose into every house and everyone's business.” The ferocious little grey thing crouched beneath his hammock. “I'd check your curiosity soon enough, pretty cousin.” Shahib's laugh was ugly and he batted at the hammock.

Arqam did not move from the hammock. As long as he stayed within, the protective spells would not let Shahib touch him. Shahib tried again, and the breeze of his hand's passage disturbed Arqam. Arqam looked down at the hideous creature, grey and snarling beneath him, its corded arms too long, like a hyena's front legs.

“Leave, Shahib. Follow the vultures and find some carrion. You do not feast upon djinn this night.” Arqam rolled over and pretended to sleep.

From below him, he heard the evil chuckling of the ghul. “A pity. It is said the djinn know more of congress than even the sensualists of India. But I do not tempt you, my pretty cousin.”

Arqam feigned sleep. He felt the hammock quake where Shahib shook one tree as he departed. But he remained safe, and in time, he fell asleep.

Excerpt: Crossroads

2008-10-15T22:00:00.000-07:00

This is available here, for $1.29

Johnny Cotton had to get out. Out of the Delta, out of Arkansas, out of the whole lousy South, if he could manage it. So, one fine fall evening, after the cotton was in, when Daddy was drunk and Mama was over visiting at his grandma's, Johnny slipped out and hiked along route 50.

The moon rode fat and full through scudding little ghost clouds and he didn't need the flashlight. His backpack felt easy on his back and his guitar case banged softly against the backs of his thighs. He'd pick up 149, get down to US 79 at Hughes and hitch a lift into Memphis and from there to Nashville.

But Johnny been up since before dawn, and put in a full day's work getting in the cotton. His legs felt like they were slogging through bayou mud, and more than once he drifted off the shoulder of the highway and nearly stumbled into a cypress slough as he dozed while walking.

He made it as far as Greasy Corner, a crossroad where 50 and 149 came together. Years ago, there had been a couple little country stores. Now the kudzu choked the deserted buildings and the plywood over the door was long gone.

Johnny let himself in, figuring to take a little nap and make the last three miles in the morning. More traffic by daylight anyway, he decided. Tomorrow, he'd be in Nashville, on Music Row. He spread out his blanket and was asleep almost before he had lain down.

The harsh cough of diesel air brakes and the whine of the engine woke him. He looked out of the broken window to see a big black Peterbilt stopped in front of the building. The moonlight glinted off the chrome smoke-stacks and bumper and tanks, and picked out the silver scroll-work that read “Speed Demon, Lou and Lil Schiffer, owners,” on the door. Bettie Page in a sexy devil costume smiled from the side of the sleeper.

The woman opened the driver's side door and climbed down. She stretched, and Johnny could do nothing but watch. All long legs and long black hair in a ponytail; her skin gleamed ivory in the moonlight. She looked around and her eyes landed on the abandoned gas station. Johnny couldn't tell their color, only that they looked like dark pits that could swallow him. He was ready to be swallowed up.

When Lou came around the front of the truck, Johnny got a shock. With that name, he'd been expecting someone short and dumpy, like Lou Costello or the cartoon mouse version of him that Johnny was used to seeing. Lou was as gorgeous as Lil, tall and saturnine, a dark beard and mustache framing a fully and sensual mouth, nicely built under the tight T-shirt and tighter jeans. The silver edge of moonlight seemed to caress that bulge as he came around and kissed Lil.

They both smiled at the old gas station. Johnny knew they couldn't see him, but it sure felt like he was naked in front of them.

“Hello, Johnny. Why don't you come out and be social?” Lil's voice was honey and velvet and all the sexy things that Johnny knew he'd never get back on the farm. His cock stood right up and took notice, but he didn't move. Midnight at the crossroads, whispered a little voice that sounded like his late grandpa, the preacher. You know what that means, boy. Oh fucking hell, Johnny thought.

And that sentiment grew very literal as Lou got hold of Lil again and kissed her harder, stroking her curves and opening her shirt. Her pale white breasts almost glowed in the moonlight. She turned to the station again, letting Johnny have a good look at her.

“So, Johnny, are you coming out, or shall we come in?” she asked

“I'm coming out,” he said, the words out before he realized he was speaking.

Excerpt: Hunger for the edge

2008-10-11T18:17:00.000-07:00

This is from Eternal Darkness, a collection of Blind Vampire stories. It is currently out of print.

“Please, can you tell me where I am?” The young man’s voice was slightly accented, almost musical.

“You’re outside Egypt. What are you, blind?” Zach had no time for beggars or foreigners.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” This was accompanied by a sweet smile and the appearance of a white cane.

Zach looked more closely and realized the man’s odd blue eyes did not focus. They tracked some as he spoke, but they never seemed to settle on him.

“You’re at 45th Street and Euclid. You want me to call you a cab? This isn’t a good neighborhood.”

He smiled again, making Zach swallow with the desire to taste that lovely white smile. “I’d much rather you helped me into the club? It has been a long time since I danced.”

“Can you dance?”

“Most assuredly. I must, however, have some small assistance in reaching dance floor and the bar.”

Zach’s eyes narrowed. “Are you asking me to be your date?”

The man’s laugh was as musical as his speech. “Not at all. Merely that you aid me in getting a drink and finding the dance floor.” He ran his hand up his prey’s arm. “I’d be very grateful.”

Zach thought about it. He was curious to see what the blind man could do on the dance floor. He shrugged. “Come on then. I’m Zach.”

“Adrien.” His accent was charming, southern of some sort. He tucked his hand into Zach’s offered elbow, and felt ahead with his cane.

Adrien was a wine-drinker, to Zach’s amusement, and wasn’t bad on the dance floor. He stayed in one spot, moving barely three steps in any direction, doing something that looked like the bastard child of the hustle and the cha-cha.

October is Excerpt Month

2008-10-07T20:24:00.000-07:00

All month long, I'll be posting samples from various paranormal stories.

Today's is from "Prey" collected in the out-of-print Monsters anthology.

There it lurked, hulking atop a low rise, half hidden by overgrown tress and out-of-control weeds. Old Baptist Hospital with its wide lawns, iron fence and empty windows loomed at the intersection where Pauline ran into Crump, a photographer’s dream of light and shadow.

I drove by it a lot, my eyes always shifting to it of their own accord, but on this late autumn afternoon, I finally stopped to shoot. No one stopped me as I drove up the old drive, running over the weeds that came up over my bumper. I parked out by a building with a huge smokestack labeled “Hope Clinic.” My cynical side made me wonder just what sort of “hope” the clinic peddled.

I wandered the grounds, shooting the broken-out windows, the long shadows, the overgrowth and desolation. I got a pretty decent shot of my shadow next to the entrance sign, heading for the missing door. After two rolls, I got up my nerve to venture inside.

“This is stupid, Michael. Don’t do it,” I whispered to myself. Ignoring my good advice, I walked the sickly green halls, taking pictures of the empty rooms, shooting them so they’d look like antechambers of Hell. Trees were framed at just the wrong angle in the windows. The light was getting chancier and I took advantage of the shadows and unexpected illuminations.

The building had been used as shelter by transients. Bits of fires, graffiti, the occasional den in a sheltered corner where the remaining doors could be closed for protection from the wind and ice. I caught a few of these. The Flyer always ran a heart-tugging story on homelessness when the weather started getting cold.

I shot some of the graffiti. Most of it was basic crude intaglios: initials, drawings, dates. There were some more skilled artworks. One in particular made my skin crawl. I didn’t recognize it, but I shot it anyway. It looked sort of like a summoning seal, but I’d never seen one with eight points. The language around the edges looked like Latin and I figured I could translate once I got it developed.

The seal had me curious, but it made me nervous at the same time. A low-grade stomach churn and the skin crawling on my neck like It was watching me–whatever It was. I’d see what I could find in the occult section at work. I finished the roll and got back in my Beetle. I drove out of the gate as darkness fell, and straight to the nearest bar.

After two drinks, my hands stopped shaking and I poured myself back into the bug and drove home. I’d develop the pics after work. I didn’t feel like fooling with it right now.

I didn’t feel like eating either, so I just went to bed.

So pretty this one. Oh, Lord of Lust, let him... no, he didn’t touch the seal. Damn. Ah! A picture. Now that I can work through. Yes, and he’s a developer sort. When he develops that one he’s mine. Mother Lillith, why do you put such mortals so near yet so far, like the temptations of Heaven? Is it to remind us Winged Ones that we can have neither?

He’s sleeping now. Father Asmodeus won’t mind if I take a peek. Hm! Bisexual. He dreams of pretty redhaired girls and pretty blond boys at the same time. I wonder which way he’d like me better? The succubus shape never feels as right as my incubus form. Most demons are neuter, and we Winged Ones switch as the mood takes us. But a few, like me, have a distinct preference. I am male.

Sound off

2008-10-06T13:37:00.000-07:00

Is anybody out there?
Am I posting in a void?

Loyal reader roll call sound off now!

I'm going to be a writer and make millions!

2008-10-06T07:27:00.000-07:00

Or, the actual financial side of writing.

Let me start with a quote from Poppy Z. Brite's LJ: Only 2% of authors make enough to live on. And only 2% of them get rich."

I did some counting over the weekend.
I'll have 17 things published this year. (Two are forthcoming)
So far, I've made about $1200. That's royalties for the first half of the year, plus July and August for the houses that pay monthly.

My best seller, "For Love of Etarin" has sold 692 copies.
My worst seller, "Pushing the Boundaries of Reality" has sold 3.
I average about 92 sales/title with my main publisher.

Looks like it'll be a while before I start dusting off that pipe and slippers.
My day job? I make 720/week.

Writing update

2008-10-03T22:53:00.000-07:00

I'm buried under editing Glad Hands. But it's a good buried. Next project, whip Niko-Chan into shape.

In other news, "Leave it to the experts" has made the final round of elimination judging for Kerlak Press's dragon anthology.

Waiting on contract and edits:
"Meanwhile back at the ranch." (Torquere)

Currently waiting to hear:
Lord Withycombe and the Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists (Samhain)
All in the Merry greenwood (Ellora)
Ellora's Cavemen sub (Ellora)

Works in progress:
Alive on the Inside
Shell-Shocked
Nick and Corban

Wedding stories for charity

2008-09-14T21:16:00.000-07:00

Twenty of Torquere' s great authors--I find myself somehow included among that number--have written wedding themed stories to show their support in the fight for equal recognition of gay and lesbian marriage!

Sexy and sweet, funny and dramatic, these Sips will satisfy everyone's urge for something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue!

The best part about the Sip Blitz is that all of the authors have agreed to donate the profits from their wedding Sips to charity, with Torquere Press matching their donation 100%! All profits collected from the sale of the wedding Sips will be donated the Lambda Legal Defense Fund.

Sips cost just $1.29, and you can't beat that for entertainment and a good cause! Buy them all, and get the entire twenty Sip package for 15% off! Who doesn't love a happy ending? The Sip Blitz begins Saturday evening, September 13, 2008!

http://www.torquerebooks.com/zencart/

Excerpt day

2008-08-17T16:58:00.000-07:00

Today is Excerpt day at the Den of Debauchery's SubAnnex.
http://valarltd.livejournal.com/2008/08/17/

Go, vote in the poll, read and leave feedback, enjoy the piratey goodness...
http://valarltd.livejournal.com/846423.html

From Kestrel on the Horizon:

Of his first sea battle, Adlai would later remember little save noise, confusion and smoke. Collins had issued him a pair of pistols, powder and shot, along with a quick kiss and orders to hold his post before the door of the Captain’s cabin. Each time the cannon roared, he wanted to cover his ears and scream. He did not. He was a man, not a child to be terrified of noise.

He’d done his best, standing as chaos raged about him. He watched Tobias run a man through with a cutlass and mild-tempered Deering swearing like a screeching parrot and reloading his musket as fast as he could fire it. Stephan strode through the din and press, a giant black demon who found it easiest simply to seize one enemy head in each hand and smash them together like the rocks that martyred his namesake. Even gentle Will, the cook’s assistant who was no more than fourteen, wielded a vicious-looking cleaver in defense of the galley.

A large man gave a wicked sneer and headed for Adlai, his cutlass raised. With shaking hands, Adlai raised the flintlock and fired. The man fell back, his sneer obliterated. Adlai reloaded the pistol, his hands still shaking badly enough to drop two balls and half his powder.

“You’ll need those,” Deering said, folding the lost shots into his hand while Adlai could do no more than stand and stare at the dead man at his feet. “We’re winning.” Deering vanished back into the fray.

Nikolai is Back!

2008-08-15T20:40:00.001-07:00

Click the Cover. It will take you straight to the order page.

For the newcomers, and those who haven't been listening to me babble about this for ages:

James Ligatos is a man with an unusual hobby. He turns promising young criminals into world leaders. His latest project is Nicholas Boyd, formerly Nikolai of the Revenant street gang. But the little killer-turned-file-clerk is much more than Ligatos and his staff bargained for. As Kentucky attempts to secede from the Confederated States of America and rejoin the United States, Nick's skills and the group's training are put to the ultimate test, and the price of failure is death.

Reviews linked here from Rainbow Reviews, Literary Nymphs, Dark Diva Reviews, Obsidian Bookshelf and Elisa Rolle.

It's up for the Darrell Award here in Memphis.

A very productive night

2008-07-27T20:12:00.000-07:00

Naomi and I rock.
We rock like a Cracker Barrel Porch full of cranky old men.

We got three submissions off tonight.
One for Ellora's Cavemen Anthologies and two novels.

I feel...very odd. As if I've just run off a cliff and not quite noticed it's no longer under my running feet.

Finally here!

2008-07-16T05:15:00.001-07:00

$3
Frosted Hearts is available from Phaze!
Blurb: In this follow-up to Collared Hearts, artist Anthony and gallery owner Josh endure the trials of the Christmas holiday - from family squabbles to snowy accidents - with their passionate, kinky play to make the holidays a bit brighter.

Will Scarlet's Song

2008-07-12T05:22:00.000-07:00

20,322 / 50,000
(40.6%)

The people craned and stretched, for in the middle of the guard was a cart. Tied to the cart, with a noose already around his neck, rode Will Scarlet wearing only a shirt and a crown of oak leaves, the mark of a traitor to the crown.

He looked at the crowd, searching each face. Although some pitied him and some looked at him sorrowfully, he didn't see the faces he sought. His heart sank like a plummet of lead, but he refused to show this.

Instead, he sang. If he was to die this day, he would teach all of Nottingham a new song. They would sing it long after they had forgotten him and it would set the Sheriff's teeth on edge each time heard it. Head held high, he sent his voice ringing over the crowd.
“The sheriff of fair Nottingham
doth tax his good folk full sore
But Robin Hood has tweaked his nose
Fie on Phillip the Fumbler!

He sets the men about the gate.
He sets them at his door.
Still he cannot catch the rogue,
Fie on Phillip the Fumbler!

He spends too much time in the stable there
Along beside the hostler
Lucky for him, the mare does not talk
Fie on Phillip the Fumbler!

He taxes folk upon their bread
He taxes them their beer
But Robin Hood will steal it back
Fie on Phillip the Fumbler!”

By the second verse, the more daring rascals were singing along with the chorus. When he finished the first time, he began again. Half the young men, already merry on beer, took it up.

Bess and Little John

2008-07-06T14:34:00.000-07:00

10,598 / 50,000
(21.2%)

FOLLOWING is PG-13

“You're so large anyone would know you on sight. John Little, called Little John, second in command of the outlaws,” Bess turned the name over in her mouth for a moment. They strolled by mossy bank, all overhung with willows.

Little John leaned down and whispered, “Not little at all. Not anywhere.”

Bess gasped, her eyes large and her mouth a round O of shock. She smacked his arm, barely a tap. “You're naughty!”

John registered no pain, but gave her wide and merrily wicked grin. “Are you naughty, Bess?” He stopped them under a willow with wythes that grew so think none could see them.

Seeing they were curtained in, as certainly as if they had been hidden in the little anteroom of the palace with the velvet drapes, Bess beckoned Little John down and whispered. “Wicked as the day is long and more versed in the carnal arts than you can imagine. I went on Crusade after all.”

Little John scratched his great shaggy head. “What was a lady doing on a crusade?”

Bess laughed and settled herself on a tussock of grass. “Have you not heard how Queen Eleanor took a whole hoard of us? She dressed her maids as Amazons and rode topless half-way to Damascus.”

John sank down beside her, his eyes huge at the thought of the Queen and her maids riding bare-breasted across the continent.

“And how naughty are you, Johnny?” Bess teased.

He caught her round the waist again and kissed her. She opened beneath him, letting him go deep into her mouth. He crushed her closer and she only kissed him the harder, her own passions ablaze.

Bess clung to him, mindful of the job she'd done in her braes earlier that no erection would betray her to Little John until she was ready. When he let go of her mouth to look into her face, she breathed, “Yes, oh John, yes.”

He gave a lopsided grin behind his beard. “Oh, you are a naughty girl.”

Bess laughed. “Oh yes, I am. This is a fine and private place. I'll show you all my wickedness if you desire.”

JulNoWriMo

2008-07-02T21:08:00.001-07:00

5,802 / 50,000
(11.6%)

A sample:
Marion brushed her hair, thinking on the oddities of the day. Bess had already retired. She heard a bird call from the balcony, but surely no chickadee was abroad at this late hour.

She set the hairbrush aside and hurried out. A cloaked figure hovered at the edge of the balcony. She withdrew in fright. The handsome young butcher pulled back his hood and clung to the rail, entangled in the ivy that grew on the tower.

“Mad and merry butcher, you take an unwarranted chance with your neck.” She looked down, knowing it was many feet to the ground.

He smiled at her, his teeth white within his yellow beard. “A worthy risk to finally see my lady this close.” He took one hand of hers and kissed it.

Marion gasped. “Caution! Both hands on the rail or the vine. I would not see you fall.” She stepped closer and did not try taking his hand from hers. “'Twould be a shame to lose you before I know your name.”

He swung up, throwing his long legs in their green hose over the rail, and landing on his feet before her. He favored her with a proper bow. His voice was sweet as the birds in the morning as he said, “Robin, my lady. I am Robin.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgment. “My lord Locksley,” she said, using his proper title. She offered her hand again. “Lady Marion FitzRoy.”

He took it and kissed it again, pausing to breathe over her wrist. “So soft. I knew you would be.”

“My lord Nottingham does not allow me out. Or I'd have been down for a kiss from a good tight butcher.”

“I didn't coax you well enough to sneak out then. I tried my best.” Robin looked entirely crestfallen.

Marion took his other hand with her free one. “Please, my lord, understand, I am locked in. Bess is allowed out, but my uncle, the king, says naught should happen to me. The war goes poorly. Alas, Bess is a poor messenger.”

Robin laughed. “Shall I remedy that?” He drew her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist.
She gave him a saucy look and a wicked smile. “Have you still three pennyworths of meat about you? For it was fine beef.”

Robin sighed. “Only a bit of kidney, too squashed to sell. I was going to pass it to a beggar as I left town.”
“Then allow me to pay you for it.” She slid her arms around his neck. “And in full.”

News and a contest

2008-07-02T16:22:00.000-07:00

Ellora's Cave just announced their Summer print sched.

"Raising the Dead" is going to be part of Trick or Treats 3.
A real book in a real bookstore! *bounce!*

AND!

If you want to win a copy of "Five Time Loser"
send in a made-up CB handle for yourself
or just go to http://www.angelsparrow.com/contest.html

This is a sexy little paranormal. Elisa Rolle reviewed it here

I'm doing JulNoWriMo, and nicely

2008-07-01T20:59:00.000-07:00

3,800 / 50,000
(7.6%)

Excerpt:

Robin hurried out of the gates of Nottingham town, his purchases slung on his back. Will Scarlet tucked the lump of bread and cheese he was nibbling back into his wallet and fell into step with his long-legged leader, who whistled a snatch of a bawdy tune he'd heard that day.

"You show your face too boldly in the town,” Will chided. “You'll not whistle half so jauntily when the hangman cuts your air with his hempen necklace.”

Robin slung an arm over Will's shoulders. “The morn is fair, the air is sweet, and yet you are fretting again?”

Will sighed. “How can I not? Your capers leave with without a moment's peace. Has not the Sheriff who lives in the castle you passed not a stone's throw from sworn to hang all seven score of us and you higher than the rest?”

"He doesn't scare me,” declared bold Robin.

"He scares me enough for both of us,” Will replied. He took a long drink from the skin of good sack he carried. He offered the wine to Robin who had a drink and passed it back.

"I've proven myself more clever, time and again,” Robin boasted and laughed, sending it ringing among the trees.

Will shook his head, a grim look on his face. “Hard to laugh hanging, my merry master.”

Robin grinned and caught him around the waist. “Will, Will, my dour conscience, I don't see a noose around my neck yet.”

"Not yet, but you take too many chances.”

"If we are not bold, how will we be taken seriously?” Robin demanded.

"Yet if we step too boldly, we will saunter into their hands. And you should not walk through the town with your naked face”

Robin embraced Will, holding him tightly. “Never stop being my conscience, dearest Will. I need you.”

Will smiled up at him. “Come, let's see what awaits us back in the wood. What did you learn today, bold Robin?”

"I think I did see that lovely maid.”

Will feigned shock, pressing a hand to his chest and staggering backward a step. “A maid? Our fair Robin's eye has been caught by a maid? Will wonders never cease!”

Robin cuffed him lightly about the head, grinning. “She's lovely, Will. But under our dear sheriff's protection.”

"Oh indeed?” Will raised his eyebrows. “Tell me of this maid you saw? For I thought that sort was much more my hunting preserve than yours.”

"I have hunted your course before, Will Scarlet, and I may hunt it yet again. Oh her lips...” He trailed away thoughtfully. “Her lips are lovely. As lovely as yours, my dear Will, although you keep them from me.” Robin ran one finger over Will's very full mouth, the one that sang so sweetly he charmed merchants out of their best wares and maidens out of their virtue.

Will rolled his eyes. “Robin, you know I love you and you know as well we lie together poorly.”

Robin took his hand from the soft lips. “Of course. I know. Still...” He touched Will's mouth again and stroked his face. “I still want. I don't expect anything of you.”

Will stretched up and pecked Robin on the cheek. “As if you have not seventy score others to slake yourself upon.”

Robin pulled him close. “But my Will is always my most trusted.”

“Aye, your own sweet Will. Which you have whether we lie together or not!” Will laughed at his own joke, and Robin joined in, for as chief of the outlaws in Sherwood, his will was the law of the forest.

Characters of Color

2008-06-08T08:30:00.000-07:00

I am white. Let's be very up front about that. I'm not "Anglo," and I resent being called that. I'm Celtic, with the extreme pallor that suggests. I'm somewhere around the shade of tapioca pudding. I grew up in a Sundown Town and had minimal exposure to anyone darker than my Pakistani doctor. I went to a university with a 2% black, 40% Asian student body. So, I'm probably the worst person in the world to write this article.

But, I write characters of color, anyway. While I hesitate to call it "liberal guilt," I do worry about how I write them. People--especially authors and fans--of color say it is insulting that I worry more about how to make a Barbados sugar plantation owner accurately black than I do over how to make three-armed green aliens convincing.

The difference is that with the latter, I can use the time-honored method of "Making shit up." As long as it sounds good and holds up to being poked a little (where does that third arm go and why is it there from an evolutionary standpoint?), the readers will suspend disbelief.

With the former, I have the base layer: male plantation owner, and an extra layer atop it: half-black in a white society, half-white among the black society. I have critical readers who know more than I do examining it as closely as a piece of cross-stitch under the eye of a county fair judge, looking for knots and strings and such.

The very fact that I can choose not to write about PoCs is privilege. I know this. In many cases, I exercise this. There are many stories where the cast is limited to the two men, and there is no reason to make them CoCs. Then again, there is no reason not to, except for that extra layer of work to "get it right."

Too, I am constantly surprised by the way people define CoCs.
Someone posted an icon of Alexander Siddig, Dr. Bashir of DS9. It took me aback. I never considered him anything but white. Ditto a rather long discussion over whether a deliberately racist society would allow someone who looks like Oded Fehr to move through it freely. Middle-Eastern and Jewish never registered as CoC. Maybe it's a result of having half-Lebanese stepsisters and Pakistani doctors. They look white, except for the deeper tan. Given how deeply some of my white classmates tanned, even that was no obstacle.

To me "of color" means black. It's hard enough to write "People of Color" because my mind keeps making it "colored people," which is racist. Even PoC has its problems because I keep reading it as "pox" which implies a pox on society. But these are the preferred terms of the community and my discomfort is on par with straights who hate using the word "gay."

But onward.

Every time I write a story with a cast of more than two, I wonder if I'm being racist by not including a CoC. (sometimes I wonder about stories with two)

Every time I add a CoC, I wonder if I'm succumbing to tokenism.
I wondered about adding CoCs to my current project and realized there would be four places for them--stevedores, housekeeping, porters, transported criminals in steerage--none of which will set well with modern audiences. Period racism doesn't play.

I wonder if I'm being lazy and working from stereotypes, which are mental shorthand. Is saying "Yes, he is well-hung, and so is every other male of every shade in this particular outfit, by design. Eight inches is a minimum hiring requirement." acceptable? Or is it perpetuating sexual myths?
A quarter of the cabal that rules the world is Jewish (a married couple). Is this straight out of The Protocols and paranoia? (the other six are Catholic, Hindu, Shinto, animist, Russian Orthodox and atheist)

***

Much of my problem with all of this is that for some years I was actively racist. I did not consume media with people of color in it. I would turn the radio channel. My fanfiction and fanvids deliberately excluded CoCs. I was attempting to avoid the reality of my life in the south as much as possible. I worked in largely black jobs, lived in a mostly-black neighborhood and tried to escape by making my off-hours as white as possible.

I had an awakening a few years back and began working to behave properly and get my ideas in line with my beliefs. I do worry though, that old thought patterns wander back in, that old behavior patterns still dominate.

I'm lousy at detecting privilege, stereotypes, etc. I lived in that for so long, that I know a lot of it creeps in.

This is not a call to assuage my conscience.
This is not an effort to justify myself.

I'm just trying to get my ducks in a row and do better, one day at a time. I don't always succeed.
Sometimes I get it right. Sometimes I fall on my face.
The important thing is to keep working.

Not September, but Talk Like A Pirate Day is here

2008-06-07T19:08:00.000-07:00

David and Robin have been together for a long while, and they're off on one of their mini-vacations at the lake house. It’s Talk Like a Pirate Day, and the guys dress up a little to play, taking the boat out for the day and playing pirate and captive. Nothing it perfect, not even their vacation, because Robin's health problems keep David on his toes.

(click cover to order)

Blog for GLBT families day

2008-06-02T07:20:00.000-07:00

My piece:

http://valarltd.livejournal.com/804541.html