5 Tips to Writing a Series

I write a number of reasonably successful series, including the popular Adrien English gay mysteries. And this week saw the release of Dead Run, the fourth book in the Dangerous Ground series. That’s the one about the two DSS Agents who have been partners and friends for years before they realize they’re actually in love with each other.

Anyway, one question I’m frequently asked is whether I know I’m writing a series when I begin the first book.


The answer is…most of the time, yes. I knew when I began Somebody Killed His Editor (for Samhain) it would be the first in a new series. The books revolve around a former bestselling mystery author who is dumped by his partner and his publisher the same year he turns forty. I knew that besides solving a murder in each book, Christopher Holmes would be working out the mysteries of his own life, including a new relationship with a younger and more successful lover. The first three books arranged themselves in my mind. I could see the whole beginning arc of what I hope will turn out to be a reasonably long and entertaining series.


But when I started Dangerous Ground, I had no particular plan to make it a series. I knew it could easily be a series if I did the stories a bit like episodic TV and used the storyline of these two alpha males trying to be together without killing each other as my over-arching plot. But frankly I wasn’t sure reader interest would justify it. It was different from the AE series – this was very lean, very streamlined, and the emphasis was on adventure, action and high emotions. Oh, and a fair bit of sex (for me – especially at that time). I had a blast writing it.


Well, it turned out readers were unexpectedly enthusiastic, and the series has continued to build up momentum, and so we’re up to Dead Run. The thing about Dead Run is it’s a pretty good place to leave the series, if I want to stop now, but it’s also a great turning point if I want to keep writing and spin the characters in new directions.


I’m still having fun with the stories and readers are still enthusiastic, and that’s basically what it’s all about.


Or rather, that’s what it’s all about at this point. Before you reach this point, how do you know if you should try and plan for a series or stick to a standalone? Series books are popular, that’s true, but only if the series is popular. A series that isn’t popular actually sinks faster with each release than a new stand alone, so there’s something to think about.


But what are some other things to consider as you’re wondering whether to turn the story of these characters you love into an ongoing saga? Different people have different ideas, but the first thing I always think about is whether there’s enough of a story premise to carry through for five books or more? Do my two main characters have enough of a potential in both their relationship and their personal growth? If the answer to any of those questions is no, then to my way of thinking, there really isn’t sufficient grounds for a series.


In Dead Run, Will has been posted to the American Embassy in Paris. Taylor and Will have been apart for 11 months and that distance is starting to take a toll on their relationship. When they do finally reunite for their holiday, things are slightly off-kilter with them. As much as they want to pick up where they left off, they can both feel the difference in the other, and it makes them both strained and careful – awkward – in how they deal with each other.

Conflict, in other words. Four books into the series, I can still find believable ground for conflict between these two despite the fact that they love each other passionately. Building a relationship is hard and I like to show smart people doing the necessary work to make their relationships last. So in addition to the natural insecurity of having been apart for nearly a year, I try to explore the conflict that already exists within Will and Taylor’s characters. They’ve worked together for years, but being lovers changes their dynamic in ways neither calculated. Will has trouble seeing Taylor the way he used to. Now that his happiness is invested in Taylor’s welfare, he’s overly protective, overly concerned, and a bit controlling. And Taylor, who is still the tough, efficient, self-reliant agent he ever was, naturally pushes back. By the end of the story, they’ve reached some sort of resolution -- of course! -- though not so much of a resolution that there wouldn’t be more to explore between them.                                                

And what about overall storyline? Well, these guys are agents of the security branch of the United States Diplomatic Service. If you know anything about the DSS, they’re some of the best and brightest, even if their branch of the service doesn’t get the attention or glory – or carry the mystique – of the FBI or the CIA or military special ops.

Anyway, Dead Run, new this week from Loose Id.


As for my tips on writing a series?


1 - Make sure your characters have enough personal issues both individually and together to carry through at least five books. Just as a novel has to finish with the character in a different place from where he started, so too does an entire series. By the series end, the main characters need to be changed. They need to have shown growth, they need to have evolved through the course of their adventures.


2 - Don’t put any elements into your first story that you don’t want to live with through five or more books. For example, a health problem that might be difficult to manage or an exotic and troublesome pet or a psychotic mother.


3 - Don’t solve the big questions or resolve all the conflicts in the first book. Your characters should still have dreams and goals and ambitions to work toward through the length of the series. And as you do solve questions and resolve conflicts, make sure you replace them with additional -- hopefully more serious -- ones.


4 - Just as a romance novel is the journey of two people falling in love, so then a series must be about two people trying to build a relationship together. It’s that struggle to be together that creates sexual tension -- not, as some people would have you believe, having a lot of sex! You want readers to be as invested at the end of the series in how that relationship is working out as they were in the first book.


5 - Keep a series “bible” with all the vital statistics of your main characters -- and recurring side characters. It helps a lot to have to go back and read four books to figure out when your main character graduated from college or whether he’s allergic to penicillin.


The most important thing, though, is make sure you’re writing a series for the right reason -- because you love these characters enough to tell their story over a period of years to come.

Dangerous Ground 4: DEAD RUN

Alternate title, Josh Has No Blog Topic This Month

So in honor of my utter lack of time management skills, I'm offering up an excerpt from my next Loose Id release -- the one I'm still, er, writing. Do I need to mention that it's rough, rough, rough? But that's kind of fun in it's own way, isn't it?

Say yes.

So for your viewing pleasure and with pictures even...

Quick and Dirty Summary:

Special Agents Will and Taylor desperately need their long planned romantic holiday in Paris, but an explosive turn of events leaves them questioning whether their partnership is a thing of the past.

Excerpt:

There was something familiar about the man at the airline ticket counter.

Taylor studied him for a moment. Medium height -- slightly stooped -- medium weight, aquiline features beneath the tweed cap. Nothing unique about an old man in a raincoat. In fact, the very ordinariness of him was part of what caught Taylor’s eye. It was like the old guy had taken inconspicuous to an art form.

“Next!” called one of the agents at the check in desk. The party in front of Taylor dragged their children and luggage to the next open space at the long desk. Taylor stepped forward. The serpentine line shuffled and scooted behind him.

Had he remembered the photos of Riley? Taylor double-checked quickly. No. He’d left them on the kitchen table. Damn. He knew how much Will missed that damn dog and he’d meant the snapshots as a little surprise.

Oh well. If Will wanted to see Riley that much, he could always come home.

Taylor glanced up automatically as the old man ahead of him turned away from the ticket counter.

Dark eyes met his, held his gaze for an instant, then dismissed him. The back of Taylor’s neck prickled. No. No way. It couldn’t be.

But he couldn’t quite ignore that feeling of recognition.

Yann Helloco.

He’d been reading an article in American Cop on the history of modern terrorism in Europe and that had to be why he was suddenly seeing a long dead Breton separatist in the first senior citizen wearing a beret who crossed his path.

Okay, not a beret, but close enough to trigger the connection.

A ticket agent at the far end opened and nodded to Taylor. “Sir.”

The line behind Taylor breathed a collective sigh. One step closer to the prize.

Taylor hesitated.

“Next in line please.” The ticket agent encouraged when Taylor didn’t seem to be getting the hint.

Taylor groaned inwardly. He was probably wrong.

More importantly, he was on vacation. He had a plane to catch. A plane he had no intention of missing. It had been eleven months since he’d seen Will. Eleven months since they’d been together. No fucking way was he missing this plane.

But what if he wasn’t wrong? What if by some crazy coincidence he had just seen a ghost?

Oh what the hell.

He moved instead to the agent who had assisted Helloco, if Helloco it was. She was busily putting a little CLOSED sign at her place, with the air of one who was taking her break come hell or high water.

He sized her up fast. Cute and prim in her navy blue polyester. A girl in love with the rules and regulations. He looked for her name badge. Bridget Martinez.

“Bridget.” She did her best not to see him, but Taylor pasted on his most charming smile and pushed harder. “That guy you just gave a boarding pass to -- where is he headed?”

Bridget looked as surprised as if her ticket machine had asked her to bring it back a cappuccino. “Sir?”

“Your last customer. I need his name and his flight number.” Taylor already had his DSS ID out. He was keeping his voice down, trying to avoid attention, but she was backing away from the counter, shaking her head, doing her best to separate herself from whatever situation he was trying to drag her into.

“I’m sorry but we can’t give out that information.”

Taylor pushed his ID toward her, hoping the problem was her vision. “I’m with the Diplomatic Security Service.”

Bridget stopped backing away but her expression grew more skeptical. “I never heard of it.”

“I’m with the State Department.”

“You just said you were with the Diplomacy Service. Anyway, that’s not what your badge says.”

“The hell it doesn’t.” Taylor jabbed his finger at the blue and gold ring around the seal on his badge. Department of State. Diplomatic Security Service. It says it right here.”

Bridget’s didn’t exactly roll her eyes, but if he thought she’d been born yesterday, he clearly had another think coming. “Anyone can have one of those made.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It doesn’t even look real.”

As much as Taylor hadn’t wanted to start this, her obstructive attitude hardened his resolve. “Get your manager.” He watched the luggage moving on the conveyor belt behind Bridget. “Did he check a bag?”

“Who?”

He smothered his exasperation. “The guy you just checked in. Do not let any of his luggage go through.”

Bridget was looking at Taylor as though he were a nut. In fairness, working at a ticket counter in an airport probably jaded you as fast as working in law enforcement.

Bridget waved to another airline employee in a navy suit. “Mr. Yousef! Mr. Yousef, can I see you please.”

Maybe she was trying for discretion, but the overall impression was clean up on aisle three! Bored passengers were staring their way and the man who might be -- but probably was not -- Yann Helloco was now a quickly disappearing tan raincoat in a crowd of tan raincoats heading for the security screening lines.

Mr. Yousef, big, black and bald with an unexpectedly charming smile, joined Bridget at the counter. He silently examined Taylor’s ID as Bridget filled him on the details.

“This customer is trying to get personal information about another customer. He says he’s a secret agent.”

“What?” Taylor spared her a startled look before turning back to Yousef. “I’m with the DSS. That’s a division of the Bureau of Diplomatic Security.”

“Sure.” Mr. Yousef spoke in a deep and melodious bass. “You’re the guys who protect foreign bigwigs when they visit.”

“Right.” It was like the relief of finding someone who spoke English in a foreign country. “Among other things. Bridget here just processed a passenger who I believe might be wanted by Interpol.” He was trying very hard not to use the “T” word.

“Might,” Mr. Yousef repeated as the conveyor belt behind him lurched forward again.

“Please don’t let that bag go through without screening it,” Taylor told Bridget who was waiting hopefully for Mr. Yousef to chop him into mincemeat. She ignored him.

“Bag?” Mr. Yousef turned to Bridget who said with a tight little smile, “I tried to tell this gentleman that the other customer didn’t check any baggage.”

Taylor opened his mouth, but really, bigger fish to fry. He turned to Mr. Yousef. Mr. Yousef said, “Bridget, did you not see this agent’s identification and badge?”

“Well, yes, but you can get those made anywhere. And it doesn’t look real.”

Mr. Yousef shook his head apologetically at Taylor. “Let’s get the information Special Agent MacAllister needs,” he told Bridget.

Bridget returned to her computer and tapped the keys in quick, irritated strokes. She moved aside for Mr. Yousef who read aloud, “Yannick Hinault. He’s on his way to Paris on Delta Flight DL67 departing from Gate 57.”

Yann Helloco and Yannick Hinault. Not exactly case closed but surely too similar for coincidence?

“I’m leaving my stuff with you.” Taylor unloaded his suitcase and carryon bag ignoring Bridget’s instinctive protest. “Can you call the gate and have them hold that flight? And have security meet me there.”

“I can try,” Mr. Yousef said. “But you better be sure this is your guy or I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

Taylor was already moving in that easy law enforcement lope that covered a lot of ground without giving the public the impression that there was cause for alarm. Even so he was moving way too fast for anyone in an airport and security officers were moving to intercept him as he headed for the screening tables.

A quick survey of the lines of shoeless and coatless passengers confirmed that there was no sign of Helloco or Hinault or whoever this asshole was who was already starting to interfere with Taylor’s much needed vacation.

Then the unis were blocking his view. Taylor flashed his tin, doing his best to explain the situation without triggering all the alarms in the place. It was his bitter experience that getting airport security involved was usually more trouble than it was worth, but there was no way around it. It was at times like these he missed Will. Will was so much better at finessing…well, everyone.

“Are you armed, Agent MacAllister?” a short, squat guy with a face like the Great Pumpkin questioned.

Taylor shook his head. “No. I’m on my annual leave. My weapon is secured at my place of residence.”

The rent-a-cops began to ask him the usual stuff -- had he been drinking, was he on medication? Did he look like a guy who had been drinking or was on medication? In the back of Taylor’s mind he could hear Will cautioning him to be cool, to play the game, so he bit back his immediate retort. He knew the ritual was partly departmental flexing of muscles and partly the fact that these were jokers who considered snagging a pair of nail scissors off old ladies a coup for law enforcement.

Another uniform joined the crowd surrounding Taylor. “He checks out.”

“Sorry for the hassle, but we have to follow procedure,” the Great Pumpkin told Taylor. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah. No problem. Can we move?”

To their credit, they did hustle their asses, leading the way through a complex maze of back door corridors until they reached Gate 57 where by now flight DL67 was boarding. Taylor strode quickly through the waiting area, scanning the seats and lines of bored looking passengers. There was no sign of Hinault.

He began studying body types and facial structure. If Hinault was Helloco, he was one cool and clever customer, so Taylor was putting no trick in the book past him.

The airline agent behind the customer service station spoke into the microphone. “Will passenger Yannick Hinault please report to the customer service desk? Passenger Yannick Hinault please report to the customer service desk.”

Taylor moved to the edge of the waiting area and watched for anyone trying to slip away. No one came to the desk and no one showed any interest in missing their flight.

Taylor swore inwardly. He turned to the milling security officers. The Great Pumpkin raised his arms in a beats me gesture.

Seriously?

Seriously?

What is it about a book that calls to you?

I’m in the process of renaming my current WIP. Another m/m romance was released last month with the title I had intended for my story. Since the book’s in the same genre I figured it would be wise to head back to the drawing board. Only, I found that searching for a new title has been difficult this time around (heck, every time). It’s not easy to land on a couple of words that encompass the story, that will catch potential readers’ attentions without putting them off considering the book, something unique, but not too out there, and something easy to search for (which I obviously opted to ignore with my previous one-word titles MORE and BREATHE). There’s a lot to consider in a title.

Mostly, I’d like any title to mean something when it comes to the story and the characters.

All this got me to thinking. What drives us as readers to even give a book a second look, let alone buy it? What is it we want to know before purchasing? We don’t want to buy books we won’t enjoy. Why waste our time and money?

What do we use to evaluate if this story is one we’ll like?

The title?

The cover?

The blurb?

The excerpt?

The content?

Theme?

Reviews?

Recommendations from friends?

Previous experiences with the author's other work?

What makes us stop at a book and say, “Yes. This one. I want this one!”

Every week there are more and more m/m romances released, so even if you read exclusively in that one genre, you have a lot of choices these days. More than even two years ago. How do readers make their selections?

I will admit, for me, it’s a combination of all those items listed above. I avoid themes I know aren’t my thing. A great cover might draw my attention. Or maybe a rave review. A link from a friend on FaceBook. But in almost every case, I want to read an excerpt. Especially for new-to-me authors. I want a sample of their voice and the way they tell a story. Catch my attention in the excerpt and I’m clicking the buy button.

So how about you? I’m curious…What do you look for? How do you choose which books to buy? Is the title an important factor? I’d love to hear what motivates you to select your next book.

Thanks,
Sloan Parker
www.sloanparker.com

Greetings from Keira Andrews

Hello! I've been publishing with Loose Id since 2006, but this is my first time contributing to this blog. Looking forward to getting to know everyone!

I've published both contemporary and historical fiction, and my latest release is The Station, which was my first full-length historical. It was part of Loose Id's Coming Out Day Celebration. Most coming out stories are modern, and I wanted to explore the challenges – and rewards – of coming out in a different era. Despite the serious consequences of coming out in the 1800s, my goal was to explore the freedom and opportunity being yourself could also bring.



Ever since Cambridge-bound Colin Lancaster secretly watched stable master Patrick Callahan mastering the groundskeeper, he’s longed for Patrick to do the same to him. When Patrick is caught with his pants down and threatened with death, Colin speaks up in his defense, announcing that he, too, is guilty of “the love that dare not speak its name.” Soon they’re both condemned as convicts and shipped off to the faraway prison colony of Australia.

Patrick learned long ago that love is a fairy tale and is determined that no one will scale the wall he’s built around his heart. Yet he’s inexorably drawn to the charismatic Colin despite his best efforts to keep him at bay. As their journey extends from the cramped and miserable depths of a prison ship to the vast, untamed Australian outback, Colin and Patrick must build new lives for themselves. They'll have to tame each other to find happiness in this wild new land.

So that's a little about my newest book. As for me, along with writing gay romance, my passions are travel, theatre (especially musicals), ballet, TV, movies and figure skating. Oh, and reading, of course! To sum me up in a nutshell, I don't believe in guilty pleasures. Life is too short for shame!

Favourite place to travel: I love Australia and Italy, but New York City and the Great White Way holds a special place in my heart.
Favourite musical: Spring Awakening, which I've seen 15 times
Favourite ballet: The National Ballet of Canada's Cinderella, not only for the gorgeous choreo, dancing, sets and costumes, but the HEA, which is a welcome respite from all the Russian tragedy in ballet!
Favourite TV show: So hard to choose, but right now my faves are probably Vampire Diaries, Dexter and historical Brit show Garrow's Law.
Favourite movie: Again, a tough choice, but if I can only pick one, it's Stand By Me, which resonated so much with me as a 13-year-old. And for a movie that never fails to make me happy -- Strictly Ballroom.
Favourite figure skater: Of all time: Kurt Browning. Currently I love Patrick Chan, Jeremy Abbott (who broke my heart last week at US Nationals!), and the ice dance team of Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir.
Favourite book: Impossible! Right now I have to go with the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins. Very powerful story and characters that left a lasting impression after the last page was turned.

Enough about me. What are your favourite things?

Do You Know Me? 5 Things You Can Do To Promote Yourself for Free

Let me whip out the old American Express card. I'm Josh Lanyon. If you read m/m fiction the name is probably vaguely familiar to you. Your response to "Josh Lanyon" may be positive or negative or merely oh yeah, I think I've heard of him, but generally if you know this genre, you know of me.

And that, of course, is the goal of each and every new writer.

You want name recognition. It would be delightful if, with that name recognition, came an automatic fuzzy, warm feeling, but it doesn't work that way. And it's not the topic of today's post. Today's post is one dear to the hearts of writers both old and new, because we're all constantly scrabbling for a better foothold on the precarious slope that is our writing career. Today's post contains five quick and easy things you can to promote yourself for free.


1 - Become a regular reader and commenter on popular blogs. It doesn't get much easier than this. Show up and participate. Interact with readers and other authors. This has the added benefit of keeping you abreast of what's happening in your community, which is a good and useful thing. When your name pops up on a regular basis and people come to associate it with smart, insightful comments, it becomes a little advertisement for your work.

You can start this strategy long before your book is actually published. There are a number of writers I became interested in simply because they commented regularly enough on places I frequented and I began to get a sense of "knowing" them.

Caution: the internet -- and this genre in particular -- are prone to sweeps of ill-thought self-righteous hysteria on any given topic. Avoid that stuff. Very rarely do the people yelling the loudest have all the facts. And everyone looks foolish after the confetti has settled.

2 - Write an article for a webzine or popular blog on a topic you know well. And for God's sake DON'T write about writing or self-promotion. You heard me right. Try and avoid writing about writing. Why? Because this is the absolute first idea that leaps to everyone's mind. It's safe, it's harmless, and it's invisible.

I know what you're thinking. Establish yourself as an expert was one of those pieces of advice they dished out when the internet was new and still wet behind the ears. And that was -- and is -- good advice, but on what topic do all writers imagine themselves experts? Writing. So everyone is out there blabbing about writing. And they're mostly blabbing to other writers.

Do I honestly need to tell you why this is a mistake?

What else are you an expert on? How can you take that expertise and apply it to writing -- even apply it in such a way that other writers might conceivably turn to you for advice? Do you have medical know-how? Are you fluent in a language? Do you have a degree in a particular historical period? How are you unique from everyone else in this genre?

Your uniqueness is the selling point.




3 - Use an email address that matches your pen name. This is a no brainer, surely? All your communication should be under the name you're promoting, your "brand," as it were. It's confusing to see Betty Johnson railing away on a list about this, that, and the other and get to the bottom of her post and find out that she's actually the author of nine erotic romances under the nom de plume of Jackson Hole.

You want all the indicators leading to your author identity. And if you don't have an email address for your author identity it's like you don't expect to be in business very long. I mean, you can get these email addresses at hotmail. They're free. Why wouldn't you do this?

4 - Give away books. I know. It seems counterintuitive. You're not earning that much to start with. And now I'm advising you to cut into your profits. Consider those pennies lost as money invested in advertising. Send books to reviewers, sure, but give books to regular readers too.

Why? Because you're trying to establish something called Word of Mouth. Word of mouth is what happens when readers like your stories and, all unsolicited, talk you up to other readers. And so on and so on. There is no single better promotional thing that can happen to you. Period. All the banner ads, all the glowing reviews, all the authors blurbing each other, NONE of that can compare to the effectiveness of a handful of readers who love your work and share that love with their friends.

Give books away.

5 - Post excerpts. This can be tricky, I admit it. Readers sometimes buy books based on reviews, but the number one decider in whether a reader reads a book will be her feeling as she skims the first few paragraphs. And while you may think all you need is for the reader to buy your book, what you really need is a reader to buy all your books -- and that only happens if they like your books.

When you post excerpts, a reader gets to sample your work and one of three things happens: the book doesn't sound like her kind of thing, the book sounds like something he wants to read right now, and -- most commonly -- the book sounds like something she or he wants to read eventually.

And how you get that reader to move you from the "eventually" pile to the Must Have Right Now pile has to do with repeated exposure to the work and to you -- which is where all those other little seemingly invisible efforts start to pay off.

Readers, what kinds of promotional efforts appeal to you? What kinds of things turn you off?

Authors, what's your biggest challenge in getting the word out there?

Wondering About Shorts

Something I’ve been wondering lately: do readers of m/m romances/erotic romances like reading shorts? No, not the ones some hot guy is wearing…I mean short stories.

I enjoy writing an occasional short story. They take me more time than I’d like since I tend to rewrite more than I write, but for the most part I enjoy the freedom of putting together something shorter than my normal work. Something where I can try a new character without committing to a longer story arc. Where I can play with a sex scene that might not fit any of my other characters. Where I can take a kernel of an idea and run with it, rather than worry whether a plot has enough meat to carry any entire novella or novel-length book.

I’ve got a couple of free stories available on my website. My hope was that they would give potential readers a sampling of my work before they invested in a new author’s first book. But now that I have two books out, I’m debating if I should write any more shorts. I have at least one more I need to finish editing. But after that, I'm wondering if I should write another if the muse strikes. Do readers enjoy an occasional short story from authors (either as a freebie or for sale) or would you prefer authors spend their time working on longer stories? Any authors out there care to share if your shorts are doing well with readers?

Do you enjoy reading shorts at all? Why or why not? Do you find they are usually representative of an author’s other work? Or are you frustrated and wish an author would stick to one length (either shorter or longer)?

I’d love to hear what anyone thinks on the subject of shorts (even if you just want to comment on the pics of the guys in shorts I shared).

For anyone interested, you can check out my website for my free m/m erotic romances.

Thanks for listening and for any opinions you’d like to share.

Sloan Parker
www.sloanparker.com

BLOOD HEAT by Josh Lanyon

I forgot what I was blabbing about around the time of my last release -- I think perhaps the release fell between blogging dates -- ennnywhoooo (as my dear old gran used to say) I'm in that headlong rush to meeting a deadline and I thought I'd be a slacker this morning and just plug my latest LI release, Blood Heat.

Blood Heat is the third book in the Dangerous Ground series. That's the one about the two DSS agents who find their partnership and friendship endangered when one of them decides he's in love with the other. Matters come to a head (NO, don't say it) during a camping trip in the High Sierras.

It's the "hot tub story," in other words.




Dangerous Ground was followed by Old Poison AKA "the phone sex story" also known as "the cobra in a bottle" story (and that is NOT a sexual reference, for the record). I find in this genre that books are often referred to by...uh...specific scenes of intimacy. I'm sure that's just for convenience sake.

Not sure how readers will refer to Blood Heat. The "speeding bullet story?" The "flash flood story?" Certainly there are plenty of speeding bullets and a flash flood. Anyway, book three finds Will and Taylor on the run again. I hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing!

978-1-60737-869-3
Genre: LGBT Action/Adventure
Length: Novella
Series: Dangerous Ground; Previous Book: Old Poison
Price: $4.99

BLURB:
Special Agents for the Department of Diplomatic Security, Taylor MacAllister and Will Brandt have been partners forever and lovers for three months, but their new relationship is threatened when Will is offered a plum two-year assignment in Paris.

Will believes the posting only means postponing what they both want. Taylor fears that kind of separation will mean the end of their new and still-fragile relationship. It’s a bad time to find themselves in the middle of the New Mexico wilderness responsible for the health and welfare of a suspected terrorist. Especially when everyone else they run into seems determined to see their prisoner -- and them -- dead.

EXCERPT:
According to Taylor’s watch, it was after six in the morning by the time they started down the far side of the mountain and found the black SUV mired in mud up to its custom rims.

By then the rain had stopped and the water had receded considerably. The canyon road was a knee-high swamp of debris and water, but the danger was past.
“It could be anyone’s vehicle,” Will called as Taylor splashed through the water to peer through the tinted side windows.

“Sure,” Taylor said. “Who doesn’t go on vacation without taking their leg irons?”
Will joined him in the water-filled ruts at the side of the road, making a frame for his face and trying to see inside. “Are you sure?” He could just make out a baseball bat, what looked like a military utility bag, and, yes, metallic links that appeared to be leg shackles. “Hmm. You just might be right.”

“I guess someone could have kinky tastes.”

“You ought to know.”

Taylor grimaced.

“Which is one of the things I like best about you,” Will added.

“Just a born diplomat, aren’t you? No wonder you’re climbing through the ranks.”
Will had no reply to that. They sloshed through the water and clambered back to the relatively dry area of the hillside.

A flash of blue caught Will’s eye. A blue jay landed on the branch of a pine tree and greeted the morning with its harsh song. The sun was rising, and it was already growing warm. The receding floodwater had a dank, unhealthy smell to it.

Taylor wiped his forehead. “Which way do you think they went?”

“Assuming they aren’t lost or didn’t get swept away, they’ll be heading the same direction we are. They need food, water, and shelter, the same as us.”

“Hedwig couldn’t climb these mountains. Could she?”

Will shrugged. “I guess if she had to, she would. I’ve seen pregnant weight lifters. In magazines.”

“She didn’t look like the athletic type to me.”

“Maybe Nemov carried her. He looked like he could.”

“He looked like he could carry his SUV. I don’t know why he didn’t.” Taylor had his BlackBerry out and was clicking away and frowning at the results. Or lack of same.
“You’re not going to get any reception down here.”

Taylor muttered something uncomplimentary, though whether to the national forest or Will was unclear.

They began to walk, continuing at a brisk pace until the sun appeared over the trees. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Pine needles glistened and sparkled in the pure sunlight.

“You have to admit this is beautiful country,” Will said, shading his eyes and gazing up at the distant snowcapped mountains.

Taylor opened his mouth -- though it was unlikely he was going to admit anything of the kind -- when something big, mottled brown and gray burst out of the brush and took wing, gobbling in fright.

He jumped a foot and gazed openmouthed at Will. “Jesus. What was that?”

Will dropped against a tree trunk and tried not to laugh. He didn’t really have the breath to spare, but Taylor’s half-alarmed, half-offended expression struck him as hysterically funny.

“Wild turkey. A hen, I think. You should see the size of the toms.”

“No thanks. I prefer my turkeys on a Thanksgiving platter.”

Again, Will had to struggle not to laugh.

They resumed their hike, having found what looked like an old track. Possibly a former stagecoach route. It paralleled the highway for a time and then led up into the hills. It was Will who spotted the two sets of footprints in the mud. One large, one smaller.

“That answers one question. They both made it out of the flash flood.”

Taylor nodded. He looked as relieved as Will felt. “They’ll have holed up somewhere ahead of us on the trail. No way did he drag a pregnant woman up and down a mountainside in the middle of a rainstorm at night -- even if he wanted to. She’d never have made it.”

“Maybe he doesn’t need her to make it.”

Taylor stared at him, thinking it over. He shook his head. “In that case, I think he’d have taken advantage of the flood to arrange a fatal accident. Plenty of opportunity. Especially if he left her handcuffed. Get her halfway up the slope and then give her a little push. Oops.”

“You worry me sometimes.”

“Good.” Taylor grinned a brief and dangerous grin.


Buy from Loose Id

http://www.joshlanyon.com/
http://jgraeme2007.livejournal.com/
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/JoshLanyon
Twitter: @JoshLanyon

New Release: Breathe by Sloan Parker

Breathe
by Sloan Parker

Genre: LGBT Suspense (m/m)
Length: Novel Plus
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs



Available now at
Loose Id

BREATHE is the story of two small-town strangers who meet and discover an undeniable attraction only to learn a little too late they never should have met at all. Or so they think.

One man’s wife was killed in a car accident a year before the story begins. The other man is the one who caused the accident that took her life. They are (hopefully) two very likable guys stuck in an impossible situation.

For me this story is about forgiveness, love, and the power of both to make a huge difference in our lives. I hope anyone who picks up a copy enjoys Lincoln and Jay's story. I had a wonderful experience writing it.


BLURB

Lincoln McCaw lost everything -- his home, his job, his partner -- after he caused a fatal accident. A year later, he's drowning the guilt and despair in whiskey, but he needs to move on. His sister and her kids are counting on him. Then he meets a man who ignites a passion Lincoln thought he’d never find. Too bad one night is all they can have together. Now he needs to figure out how to turn away from the only person who makes him feel alive…before whoever is
sending him threats decides Lincoln needs to suffer more than he already has.

Jay Miller is surrounded by grief and misery until he finally gives in to all those years of sexual fantasies about being with another guy. Realizing he’s ended up in the arms of the man who caused his wife’s accident, he tries to pull away. But how can he give up a friendship he needs more than anything -- a friendship and a love that could save him? He may not have time to make the choice before someone else destroys it all.

Read an excerpt and purchase at Loose Id

Slow-Motion Sex and a Headache Chaser

I spent part of yesterday writing an intense, sexual encounter between two old friends. It was the first time they had touched each other intimately in years. The words flowed, and it was an enjoyable scene to write (and not in a dirty enjoyable way. Sheesh. Well not that much, anyway). I usually like the writing of sex scenes, but this was the first time writing one gave me a headache. I think I had ratcheted up the tension so much that I was feeling it in my brain or something. Perhaps it had something to do with the non-completion of the act for the characters. Maybe I ticked myself off as much as I did them by not seeing it through.

I hear some writers say they dislike or dread writing the sex scenes. I’ve never really read much on why that is which got me to wondering if maybe it gives them a headache too. I don’t know.

I have to say I occasionally skip a sex scene or leave it purposely vague the first time through, but it’s not because I don’t want to write it. I’m either not in the right frame of mind or I’m not deep enough into the story to really get a handle on what I want the characters to be feeling in that moment.

There are a few things I have to be able to do to keep writing the scene:

1) Slow down the action.
I watch the scene unfold in my mind in slow motion, taking note of every movement, every touch and how each character responds, utilizing the ones that change the dynamic each step of the way.

2) Put myself into the scene, into the character’s mind and body.
Once I have an idea of how I want it to go, I get inside the POV character and describe it from his perspective. I can practically feel the anticipation, the tension, the touches. It’s an intense way to write but has proven effective for me as a writing technique.

3) Utilize as many of the five senses as I can.
This is true for most scenes but are especially true for intimate moments. Smell and taste are hard ones for me to describe, but I try to pull them in when I can.

4) Know what the characters need to gain or learn from the experience.
Sometimes I know a sex scene is the next logical step in the progression of their story, but I’m just not sure how they are supposed to come out of it. Since I’ve been outlining everything I’m writing these days, I usually have these details identified before I write the first full draft which helps me write the scene.

So tell me (for research purpose only, of course) who are some authors that you think can pull off amazing sex scenes that put you right into the moment? If I haven’t yet, I’ll probably want to check out their work…and possibly ask them if they get a headache while writing their scenes too.

Oh, and before I go...check out the cover art for my next release, BREATHE, coming from Loose Id next month. The artist was Valerie Tibbs. Isn't it gorgeous?



Sloan Parker
www.sloanparker.com

To Sleep...

My first professional writing job was to adapt the novel Dracula into a stage production for a theatre festival. I spent weeks delving into the lore of the vampire, reading and re-reading the novel and doing my best to dig the latent Victorian sexuality from between the lines. By the time the play was up and running, I’d pretty much had it with bloodsuckers.

So… Fast forward. I’ve got this silly idea for a character…a vampire with insomnia. Like I said, it seemed pretty silly. I shelved the character idea until last spring when a call came from Loose Id. They wanted stories to celebrate Coming Out Day in October. I really didn’t think about writing anything for it until a certain someone encouraged me to submit a proposal…three days before the call closed. (Thanks Treva!) That’s when I remembered my poor insomniac vampire and the silly idea suddenly became rather poignant. That’s when Oliver Bleu was born…selfish, romantic and doomed by his inability to slip into the oblivion of the undead.

Sleep is such an elemental, basic survival need. We need those hours of dream state, not only for our sanity, but simply to stay alive. Before his tragic death, actor Heath Ledger complained of insomnia. I’ve suffered with it for years, almost every summer. I’ve used sleep medications, self-hypnosis, and behavior modification. I’ve also self medicated with drugs and alcohol. Finally, I reached a crossroads. I decided to submit to the demon and see where it took me.

Yes, I still suffer insomnia, but no longer feel like its killing me. If I can’t sleep, I get up and continue on with my day. I sleep when my brain and body are both ready for it. If I go to sleep at midnight and wake at three in the morning, I get up and work. As it generally doesn’t continue more than a month or two, I can manage with frequent naps and deep relaxation. I am very fortunate, because I remember the feelings of despair that came from watching the clock.

Now imagine a vampire, locked into his sleeping place during the hours of daylight. He’s unable to sleep, unable to move or speak or even take a breath. It would be a living hell. Every sunset Oliver Bleu rises weaker than he was when he lay down for the day. He’s fading slowly. His light is dying.

And then he meets his salvation…

Blacque/Bleu is available at Loose Id, LLC

www.belindamcbride.com

www.belindam.blogspot.com

Here you come again

I just thought it would make a good blog title, but now I've got that damn Dolly Parton song stuck in my head.

I finished yet another crap first draft about midnight last night (see earlier LI post on my embracing my ugly inner artist) which makes two novellas in about a week and a half. Now I have to go back and flesh in the not-so-lovely bones of one of my earlier literary monsterpieces.

I staggered in to view email this mornng -- already disgruntled to find I'm out of V8-Fusion -- and I saw that I have a blog due yet again. And four sets of edits.

I have no idea what to talk about this morning. Other than the fact that I desperately want this year to be over.

Coincidentally this week I received a questionaire from another publisher asking about blogs. What blogs do I read, what blog topics do I enjoy, blah, blah, blog.

I increasingly think that blogs as a whole may be past their prime. I've been saying that for two years, of course, so I could be wrong. Another publisher sent an invitation to a course in learning Twitter...and I can't make up my mind about that one either, although it certainly seems less time consuming.

So I think I'll leave ths post to be answered by readers -- and if no readers respond, well, fellow writers, I think we may have our answer.

Readers...

1 - Do you read publisher blogs?

2 - What blogs, if any, do you read?

3 - What topics interest you?

4 - What topics don't interest you?

5 - How would you like to interact with writers and publishers if not through blogs?

6 - Any other thoughts about blogs?

7 - Any other thoughts not about blogs?

The Spark of a New Idea

I recently started work on an outline for a new story that I hope I can squeeze in after my current project. For those of you following along, yes, I’m back to outlining and thinking about new plots. This one began with the spark of an idea for a specific setting and one detail about the two main characters.

As I was working on the outline yesterday, it struck me that I couldn’t recall when this idea first hit me. Where had that spark came from? Had I seen something? Read something?

I’m always playing with ideas in my head, and sometimes they start out so innocuous it doesn’t register as anything important until a few days pass and a few dozen “what ifs” run through my mind. Then I start writing it all down, and the idea makes its way into my official story ideas folder.

I guess it’s okay that I don’t know where this one came from or how it started. I know where it’s going. And in the end, it’s the final product that’ll matter.

So where have some of my other ideas come from?

Anything, anywhere. TV, movies, art, news stories, overheard conversations, people watching. The smallest gesture of two people in a crowded restaurant can grow and transform into a full backstory about how these two lovers met. I play with their “story,” asking myself what if this happened? And then this? Oh, how about this? And so on…

Yes, taking me out to dinner can be a challenge.

People are fascinating. You never know what you’ll see when you discreetly watch from a distance at a restaurant, the county fair, the waiting room of the doctor’s office, or even driving down the highway.

Maybe you’ll see a teenager singing to his steering wheel. Does he have dreams of becoming the next American Idol?

Or a couple arguing through tears and shouts, their young child in the backseat chattering away to her doll. Is this a typical family squabble? Or is there something more to it? Maybe they are trying to figure out how to elude the baby’s dangerous biological father who’s just escaped from prison.

I’m sure my conclusions are nowhere near the reality of their lives, but it sure is fun to make up my own ideas…and then throw all kinds of disasters at them.

Sloan Parker
www.sloanparker.com

Rough and Ready

I think Sloan and I are in a similar place creatively speaking. We keep blogging on writer's ennui and reenergizing ourselves and tips and tricks for getting your muse off her lazy ass and back to work.

I'M NOT PAYING YOU TO EAT BON BONS AND WATCH SOAPS, CHICK.

That would be my muse I'm shrieking at, not Sloan (who I'm sure is in the shower right this very minute thinking writerly thoughts as she gropes for the soap).

So I reached a turning point last week.

For the last year (it started in December '09 to be honest) I've been hanging on by my fingernails. I had a blazingly productive year in 2009, but the downside of that was I felt that I needed to do really different stuff in 2010. So I did. I did short stories and fantasy and socio-political paranormal and edgy contemporary romance...and none of it was particularly easy, but I felt like I really needed to stretch and prove myself. And that my readers deserved that.

(Polite applause from said readers in the gallery.)

So I did just that -- to my satisfaction at least -- but the end result was that I'm done experimenting for a while.

(Much more enthusiastic applause from said readers in the said gallery.)

Next year I'm strictly writing projects that entertain me. And if every flipping book is about a cop and a writer, so be it.

Well, they won't all be cops and writers because I have seen the future and it is booked. Yeah, in this bright and fierce spirit of defiance I took a look at next year's schedule and deflated like a hot balloon as I realized A - I'm booked solidly, B - I don't get to take the two or three months off at the start of the year that I had planned to take.

Well, I mean I could, but there is that thing called a mortgage.

What to do, what to do. I'd been telling myself for months I could just...hold...on until...January and then I realized I was talking about January 2012.

A funny thing happened on the way to my nervous breakdown...I rediscovered the joy of a rough draft. I'm not saying there's not a lot of merit in taking showers or vacuuming or driving or walking (I do all these things -- and may I add gardening and splashing in the wading pool to the list of idea generators?), but for me nothing beats the old fashioned joy of writing a shitty first draft.

I mean hammer something, ANYTHING down. Get some semblance of a rough draft down and then move on to the next one. Let the first sit for a bit while you're disgracing yourself with the next project. Then start filling in the blanks of the first trainwreck, and lo! It ain't nearly as bad as you thought. And even if it is (and parts of it are -- OUCH) it still gives a foundation and that foundation is all you need to regain your creative footing.

In the past three weeks I've hammered out three horrible rough drafts, and all of them are now turning into something...well, dare I say it? something pretty good. I've almost rediscovered my joy of writing. Or at least my joy of finishing projects.

Inevitably, once you start to write, ideas will -- must -- come. Maybe they're not brilliant ideas, but from these first basic acorns do mighty oaks spring. Sometimes they shortly after topple over and plough you into the earth but the point is ideas need fertile ground in which to germinate, so you have to spread the manure before you can get the flowers.

Anyway, this, er, shit is working. It's ugly and rough but it's effective, and weirdly enough I'm remembering what it is I love about writing. And no, it's not being up to my elbows in molten crap. It's what springs from the molten crap.

Creativity requires letting go. Letting go of your fear that people won't like what you're doing, that you will be criticized, that this won't be as good as that, that you will fail. Worst of all, that you will disappoint yourself.

The truth is, you only really disappoint yourself when you fail to try. And none of the other even matters. What matters is that you fulfill your creative imperative. You're a storyteller. You have stories to tell.

Tell. Your. Stories.

Speaking of which...time to get back to it. I have some really horrible writing to get done today.

Release Day!! His Brother's Keeper

His Brother's Keeper
by Ali Katz
Publisher: Loose Id
Cover Art: Justin James
Purchase Link

What happens to romance when the honeymoon is over? Eventually, real life will interrupt: jobs, finances, sickness, disaster, kids, the age old question of who's turn it is to do the dishes tonight. Few couples lead lives so charmed they never have to deal with these things. The raging heat of passion is reduced to a simmer when family takes over.

His Brother's Keeper, affectionately referred to by my friends and crit partners as HBK, is one family's story.

Sal and Jess are from different worlds. Sal knows how to love. He's watched his parents practice for-better-or-worse his whole life. Jess, who's homelife revolved around taking care of his little brother, is still learning.

But, when disaster strikes, it's Jess in the driver's seat with Sal riding shotgun. Romance, however, is forced into the back seat for a while and love becomes the fuel that keeps them going.

More than a romance, HBK is a love story. I hope it touches you in some way.

Blurb

After six months, Jess and Sal are still living the honeymoon - sex in the hall, sex on the stairs, sex on the kitchen floor. Life couldn't be more perfect.

Enter Jess's little brother, Teddy.

A kid is the last thing the lovers need, especially a sullen, troubled teen, with far too much baggage, but Teddy needs them, and when life throws a curve, real men swing.

A kid in the house, however, means getting together is no longer just a matter of wrestling to see who's going to top, or stashing little bottles of lube in convenient places. It takes innovation - they haven't tried the laundry room in the garage -- and discretion -- hard to be discreet if your lover crows when he comes. Watching Teddy bloom makes the daily challenges worthwhile. They manage.

Their little family is just beginning to take on a healthy new shape when Teddy is viciously attacked and Sal comes under suspicion.
Now, where and when take second place to if and but. The ultimate test begins as they fight to hold fast to love and family while merciless forces work to rip them apart.

Read an Excerpt

Thanks for reading,

ali
www.a-katz.com
On Facebook: Ali Katz
On Twitter: practicalkatz

The Book as Film

I've been experiencing a writerly...ennui as of late.

I hesitate to use the dreaded "B" word. Burn out. I hesitate to use it because once the word takes spectre-like form in my brain it's liable to be haunting me for months. But I also hesitate to use because it's not exactly accurate. It's not that I don't have ideas anymore or can't remember how to write. It's not that the work isn't any good. It's as good as it ever was (which I guess was always a matter of opinion anyway). It just takes more effort. Like having to peddle a flying machine rather than using wings. I can still get airborne, but flying isn't quite as fun.

No, the only word I can think to describe this is ennui. I don't feel like writing. If I make myself write -- which I have to do of course, since I have a million deadlines and a mortgage that depends on me meeting them -- the work is fine. It's slow, granted. I'm only doing 1 - 2K a day. But since that's the schedule I recommend to my writing students, it's a perfectly respectable -- and productive number.

It's not that I want to go do something else. I can't think of anything I'd rather do -- other than swim, watch movies, eat, drink wine, and read. So one of these days I'll probably do a post on burn-out and how to reset your creative buttons. One thing I find useful is to go do something else creative, and to that end I've been experimenting creating book trailers.

I'm not sure when the idea took root exactly. I've been reading a few articles on promotion and book trailers are one of those things getting a fair bit of press. The New York Times had an article this week on authors doing a "star turn." You know, those trailers where the author gets up and reads from her book or discusses how she came to write it -- those are actually the most prevalent trailers and probably the least effective.


Anyway, I started out trying to hire someone to do a couple of trailers for me, but as I studied trailers and got pricing from folks, I couldn't help thinking how neat some of these trailers were and how FUN it would be to put something like that together. And of course as I was studying all these sites I kept coming across How To articles on doing book trailers yourself, and several of them pointed out that most of us already have some limited movie making softwear on our computers.


Well, say no more, say no more!


One of my best tricks for battling burn-out is to simply throw myself into some other creative endeavor. Music is always a good one. I'd love to paint, but I'm not painter sadly, despite a lot of art classes and the fact that nearly everyone in my family can draw or paint. Anyway, I started playing around with doing my own book trailers. Now, I won't pretend that the results are professional-looking. For one thing my trailer is too long, for another, it's too busy, and for a third, I don't know what the heck I'm doing, but I had a lot of fun with it. And, oddly enough, it revitalized my enthusiasm for this particular book, The Darkling Thrush.


Best of all, it resparked my creativity. It was relatively easy to do, too. Of course that's probably apparent from the quality of the thing, but hey! So without further adieu, my first book trailer.

New Release A VINTAGE AFFAIR

ISBN: 978-1-60737-807-5
Genre: LGBT Mystery/Suspense
Length: Short Novel
Price: $5.99

BLURB
Message in a bottle.

Somewhere in the cobwebbed cellar of the decrepit antebellum mansion known as Ballineen are the legendary Lee bottles -- and Austin Gillespie is there to find them. The last thing on his mind is hot and heavy romance with handsome bad boy Jeff Brady. But Jeff has other ideas and, after one intoxicating night, so does Austin.

The only problem is they have different ideas. Jeff doesn’t believe in love at first sight, and even if he did, he’s buried more deeply in the closet than those famous missing bottles of vintage Madeira. Popping a cork or two is one thing. Popping the question? No way. No how.

Unless Austin is ready to give up on another dream, he’s going to have to figure out how to make sure the lights go on -- and stay on -- in Georgia.


EXCERPT
He woke to a warm mouth moving on his with gentle insistence.

Smiling, his lips parted in welcome, he reached up to hook an arm around Jeff’s broad shoulders and draw him closer. Jeff’s mouth smiled against his. He tasted…robust, full-bodied. Sleepy and warm and human.

The last twenty-four hours came back in all their astonishing detail. Austin remembered thinking that nothing must be allowed to go wrong with the Cashel appraisal—shortly before everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong. It didn’t seem to matter much just now.

He lifted his lashes. Morning. A soft, rosy daylight filtered through the open drapes. Jeff’s eyes looked impossibly green in the vernal luminance. There was a faint gold bristle on his jaw, and his hair was sexily mussed.

“Thank you for last night.” The whispered words were commonplace enough, but Jeff’s expression transformed them into something more.

Or maybe that’s what Austin wanted to see. He said, equally unoriginal, “I had a really nice time.”

“I wish I could stay, but it’s already six o’clock.”

Austin wished Jeff could stay too. If Jeff changed his mind, he’d reschedule his own leaving. He couldn’t say it, though. He’d said far too much the night before. It had to be Jeff’s idea, Jeff’s choice, and Austin already knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“Part of why it’s special tonight is because we know this is a one time only.”
But for a few sweet heartbeats, it seemed like maybe Jeff would decide to at least postpone his leave-taking.

“You really are something, you know?”

“Naw,” Austin mimicked gently.

Jeff laughed. He rested his hand against the side of Austin’s face as though trying to memorize him in the soft uncertainty of the morning light.

Austin gazed unblinkingly up at him. Stay. Please.

Jeff’s face seemed to close. He drew back, rolled lithely off the bed, and reached for his underwear and khakis.

He dressed quickly, efficiently.

Austin enjoyed the view for a few seconds. There was no point rising until Jeff left. He planned to shower and then dress and then hit the road. He’d grab coffee and breakfast on the way, fill the gas tank at that station on the corner… He forced himself to think only of the day ahead, concentrate on the practicalities of his trip home. He must not—must not—be stupid about this. Indulging in a one-night stand had been stupid enough. Trying to make it into something more than it was would not only be stupid, it would be pathetic.

Interrupting his thoughts, Jeff said suddenly, “If they do send you back this way, you could give me a call.”

Was that supposed to be some grand concession? Judging by the guarded look on Jeff’s face, it was.

Austin said neutrally, “Sure.”

Jeff swiftly buttoned his shirt.

Austin knew it was a mistake, but he couldn’t seem to stop the words. “Do you ever get to DC? Or—”

“No.”

Jeff didn’t look at him. He reached for his wallet, automatically checking its contents.

Austin opened his mouth, then closed it. What was the matter with him? It wasn’t like he couldn’t take a hint. Or like Jeff didn’t understand what he was saying.
He threw back the bedclothes, and the scent of warm linen and recent sex wafted through the room. He walked to the window and gazed down at the park.

He felt Jeff come up behind him even before warm hands fastened on his biceps.

Jeff said huskily, “Austin. I won’t ever forget last night.”

Austin said over the tightness in his throat, “The pleasure was all mine.”

He could feel Jeff’s uncertainty, his hesitation, and it was ridiculous that he found himself unable to make this easy on them both. It was crazy. Crazy to react like this. It wasn’t like he hadn’t understood the rules of engagement. Or hadn’t had them explained to him in words of one syllable.

He hadn’t had enough sleep; that was all. And yesterday had been stressful by anyone’s standards. Naturally, after all that had happened, the evening with Jeff seemed to take on a greater, almost symbolic importance. Once he was home and everything got back to normal, he was going to wonder what the fuck his problem had been.

Maybe he was coming down with the flu or something.

“Are you…?” Jeff stopped. “Austin?”

He could hear the uneasy question in Jeff’s tone, and he nodded tightly to show he was listening. He hoped Jeff didn’t say anything that required a verbal response, because that was going to be hard to pull off without embarrassing them both.
“You take care of yourself, you hear?” Jeff said at last. He dropped one quick, final kiss on Austin’s shoulder and turned away.

Austin was counting the leaves on the tree across the way when he heard the door close.

A Vintage Affair by Josh Lanyon

Ode to an Editor

Okay, it's not really an ode. It's not even a sonnet. But it is heartfelt.

I think aspiring writers are sometimes curious about what it's like working with editors. I don't mean betas or CPs or copyeditors, I mean real live content editors. Exalted (if overworked) creatures who know enough about books and writing and literature to partner with writers and help them to be the best that they can be.

Working with editors is one of the perks of being professionally published. Finding the right editor is one of the most important creative relationships you'll form in your writing life.

That and finding the right tax accountant.

Ha! I jest. (But not entirely.)

Anyway, back to finding and working with editors.

I was reminded recently of how important it is to find that right match of skills and chemistry as I was working on a manuscript for Carina Press and Angela James. It's been a while since I worked with an editor that was entirely new to me. Angie bought my manuscript Fair Game based on a proposal I'd sent her. When the time came to write the book I was suddenly, for the first time in a long time, struck with insecurity. Angie and I haven't worked together a lot. What if she ended up not really even liking this book? What if I couldn't deliver what she wanted?

Gulp.

I had a sort of similar experience last year working with Nicole Kimberling of Blind Eye Books. Nikki did pretty much the same thing: bought a book based on a proposal. Now, Nikki and I are friends, so I knew that she was very familiar with my work and my style and my voice, but she was also having to guide me through a genre I'm not familiar with...spec fiction. Fantasy. And again there was this pressure of...what if I can't deliver the goods?

What if I...fail?

Cue the thunder claps!

Now let me cut to the chase here. Both Angie and Nikki were terrific to work with. These are two projects I feel proud of -- which is important. To me, anyway. And I think this is true for most writers. It might sound weird, but when you work in the arts -- any art, I suspect -- it's not just about making money. Not that I have any objection to making money. But it's impossible not to invest a lot of yourself in a creative project such as a book or a piece of music or a painting. That's why it's not as easy to be objective about criticism as it is in ye old day job. If I turn in a report and the math is wrong, well hell. I need to fix that. And it could be embarrassing, but it's not...personal. If you see what I mean.

So finding the right editor is a kind of validation, too. This person "gets" it. Eureka.

As a matter of fact, when it comes to content editors, I've been incredibly lucky in my writing career. And, regardless of what the uninformed may think or say, the attention my ebooks and small press books have received from editors like Angie, Nikki, and let us not forget Sasha Knight (AKA Ms. Eagle Eye) at Samhain has been consistent with any mainstream publisher I've worked with. (Better in some cases!)




Which finally brings me to Judi David, my editor at Loose Id.

Judi was the first editor I worked with in the m/m romance genre. Loose Id was the first ebook publisher I signed with and, frankly, I was a nervous wreck. I expected...well, I didn't know what to expect. And, I can tell you right now, that if things had gone a different way -- if Judi had been a different kind of person or a different kind of editor -- I would not currently be the household name I am.

Yes, I am a household name. Didn't you know that? My household name is Honey-what-the-hell-is-THIS-on-your-computer???

It's a name I share with a select few of you.*g*

Back to Judi who knows what I'm trying to say half the time before I've worked it out for myself. By now we've figured out a sort of shorthand, and I can turn in a very rough draft and she can read between all those lines that aren't there. That's what I call providing back up.

Nowdays there aren't a lot of hearts and flowers in the edits, but if I do the neurotic author thing, she knows what to say -- and it's always the right thing.

And it helps that she gets my humor.

And it helps that she's read a few books that aren't romance novels.

And it helps that she speaks up when we're in an area that isn't her area of expertise.

Turning in a first draft, a rough draft, is sort of like getting naked for the first time with someone. And even when it's an editor you've worked with before, there's an element of anxiety. You need to be able to trust that this person is going to tell you the truth, but also that she or he can look beyond their subjective tastes to the needs of the book, the audience, the market, the publisher -- that this editor is going to work with you to make the best possible book, but that it's still going to be your book, your story told in your voice.

You need to know that this person likes your work.

Do Judi and I always see eye to eye? No. But I trust her. So when we don't see eye to eye, I'm not afraid to let go of the side of the pool and swim out to the deep end. I know she'll throw me that life preserver if I really do need it.

So thank you, Judi. By the time each book releases, I'm usually too tired to mention it, but I appreciate all you do to make me a better writer -- and a happier writer because of it.

Respect the Process

As a newly published author, I know I have a lot to learn and improve upon in terms of my writing. I hope to get better with each project and learn new aspects of the business of writing, but I also hope to evolve, expand my wings so to speak with the craft of writing, the process of how I write, and what I write about.

I know it's an unending process. As Josh Lanyon said in his last post on this blog, "Writing doesn't get easier." (okay, I admit it…I was kinda freaked to hear that from Lanyon, but I believe it's true.)

Intellectually, I know this, and I'm prepared for the difficulties of continued publication: the work it takes to write and balance the other activities of being an author, the critiques and reviews, the deadlines.

One of the things I hadn't prepared myself for was my reaction to my own process of writing.

I'm a plotter. I plan the story and characters in detail before I begin writing. Even through the years of writing fiction that no one ever read, I had pages and pages of notes for every story (at least the ones I attempted to write).

But this time around something odd happened when I sat down to outline Trapped, the working title for my third novel-length romantic suspense (fourth if you count the one I haven't submitted yet). I panicked. Am I doing this writing thing all wrong?

I had a few details about the characters, and I knew how I wanted the romance to evolve, but the rest of the plot was slow going. Normally I wouldn't panic, just keep plugging away at ideas until something struck me as "the story" for this couple. Only this time, I was writing the outline at the same time as my first release was featured on the digital shelves at Loose Id. I had readers. I had an editor waiting for more work. I was on Twitter and Facebook. I also had new writer friends both on-line and in-person. I heard the daily progress of other writers whom I admire, other writers who had varying styles of how they work.

As the ideas slowed and panic swirled in my gut, the creative part of my brain seemed to freeze up and questions filled my mind. Should I be writing in a different way? Should I skip the outlining? Was the way I was planning the writing holding me back from getting into the story? Would I be better served if I opened up a blank document, wrote "Chapter One," and just dug into the story?

I decided to ignore the questions for the moment. I've been known to say to others that they need to go with what works for them, so I pushed aside the panic and kept working.

Now, a few weeks later, the outline for Trapped is complete at 22,000 words. It's the most detailed outline I've ever done, and I hope it's going help the rest of the words flow when I start back at writing chapter one.

It wasn't until I got the ideas into this coherent outline that I fully relaxed. That I remembered this is how I work best. This is how my brain thinks. This is how I can come up with ideas. Brainstorming, freewriting, outlining, character sketches, research -- it's all how I find a story to tell. I can't start chapter one until I've done my own form of "due diligence."

It wasn't until I had a stack of note cards five inches high (photo included) on the desk in front of me -- a story I'm excited to tell -- that I remembered, Yeah, this is my process. And I need to respect that.

Sloan Parker
www.sloanparker.com

Letter to a Reader

I get a fair bit of fanmail.

Not so much that I can't keep up with it, but enough to let me know that my work is being read and discussed and appreciated. That's validation for a writer. Sure, we all want, need, and appreciate reviews, but there's something about a reader taking the time and trouble to personally contact you that is different.

For one thing, the reader is risking something. Possible rejection. Suppose the writer is offended? Or just...well, ignores the letter? For another thing, the reader has nothing to gain. There is no audience to be impressed by the reviewer's way with words or clever insights. There is no one to fill in the silences. It's a private conversation. Taking the time to personally write a letter to an author whose work you enjoy takes effort. It's like going that little extra step of sending a small gift to your hostess after a wonderful weekend stay. It's kind and it's generous and it's gracious.

So I thought I'd address some of the comments that typically pop up in letters from readers.


Dear Gentle Reader,

No need to apologize for "disturbing" or "bothering" me. I don't want you to think that I'm sitting here shooting paperclips across the room, but I'm never too busy to hear from you. The day that I am too busy to hear from you, my dear reader, is the day I hang up my quill pen and ink well.

I do not think you are being "too forward" by approaching me or offering your thoughts on my stories. To be honest, I always find your thoughts interesting. Yes, you do sometimes get it wrong, but so (apparently) do I!

(That's where you chuckle, dear gentle reader, 'cos I'm teasing you.)

I often say that we writers write for ourselves, but we publish for others. It's my pleasure to share these stories with you -- I'm glad you're reading my work and that it's moved you enough to want to talk to me about it. And I mean that whether you liked the story or had some problems with it. I'm not going to pretend that I'm going to change the stories I write just to please you, but I am genuinely interested in what worked or didn't work for you. No, I'm not going to be mad at you because you write to tell me you didn't understand something or something bothered you or saddened you.

By the way, dear reader, it's okay to gush. Almost every single one of you apologizes at some point for "gushing." I have a feeling we authors define gushing differently from you readers.

Dictionary definition of gush: to express oneself extravagantly or emotionally; talk effusively: I LOVE your work!

You know, just as you had to work your nerve up to write me, so it takes me effort to put my work out there for others to read. Writers, like everyone else in this world, get a lot more rejection than they do gushing praise. Even after we convince an agent or a publisher to take a risk on us, we still have to win over reviewers and booksellers and...you.

So it's nice -- really, really nice -- to hear that you liked my work. And you don't have to qualify that because I know my work isn't perfect (only too well) and that everyone doesn't love me all the time. Sometimes the best medicine in the world is simply to hear what I'm doing right.

Don't apologize. Really. I think I speak for all writers when I say feel free to gush.




Finally, dear reader, you don't have to apologize for liking the books you like. I don't care that you're a middleaged married woman or a seventy year old man in the midwest or a college kid in England. I'm not judging you, and if I was judging you, how harsh a judge could I be when I'm the one writing the stories you're enjoying so much? I'm writing for myself, remember? I'm writing the kinds of stories I would love to read, so apologizing for liking my work is really not necessary. In fact, you're...er, making me laugh nervously because if you're uncomfortable, what should I be feeling for writing this stuff?

Anyway, that's it, dear reader. Thank you again for writing. For going to that little bit of extra bother, for taking the trouble to say something positive and encouraging to me when you could probably use an encouraging, friendly word yourself. It's funny the way your letters always seem to come when I need them the most. You're very good about that -- and it's one reason I keep publishing my stories.

Yours sincerely,
Josh