An Uncommon Whore: The Journey

From childhood, I’ve been an avid reader, and the stories that made the most impact on me were frequently the fantasies that featured a heroic journey. The Tolkien Trilogy and the Hobbit are the first that come to mind, but there were other stories that feature heroes and heroines on a quest of some sort. That influence tends to show in some of my stories. I like taking characters out of their comfort zone and sending them down the road.

The journey is symbolic. I like to use the journey or quest to reflect the inner evolution of my characters. In Belle Starr, Belle goes on a hunt for a criminal. Later, that journey becomes a desperate search for her missing companion, the wolf Tucker. From the beginning of that hunt, to the end, she evolves as a character. Her priorities change, as does her entire perspective on life.

In my new release, An Uncommon Whore, the majority of the book takes place as Helios Dayspring and Griffin Hawke travel to their new home planet. At the beginning of the story, Helios is a fairly simple man. His needs and wants consist mainly of freeing himself from slavery and getting off the planet that he’s been trapped on. Beyond that, he has no goals, and few desires. As the journey continues, he becomes more complex, and while he stays true to the kind, clever man he is at the start of the book, by the time the journey ends, he is returned to his true destiny in life. Perhaps he’s a better man because of the trials that he’s experienced.

Captain Griffin Hawke was a bit of a challenge. Since the story is told from the point of view of Helios, he observes and documents the changes in Griffin. The Captain’s journey is largely emotional. His hurdles are those of trust, faith and self-worth. There is no doubt that he loves Helios, but Griffin can’t see any future beyond the end of the journey. He’s locked in the past and has no faith that their relationship will endure. While Helios has no memories at all, Griffin is crippled by too many memories. Time has crushed his dreams and hopes, and as the journey unwinds, he slowly rediscovers those dreams and once again begins to hope for a better life.

Every story is a journey of sorts. At the end of this story, we see that in reality, Helios' and Griffin's story is really just beginning.

An Uncommon Whore releases January 26 at Loose Id publishing.

Please visit my website: http://www.belindamcbride.com

Thoughts on a Rainy Afternoon

I’ve been having trouble reading fiction for some time. I’m not sure why -- it’s me, not the stories -- but I seem unable to focus. Anyway, last night I gave up on trying anything new and pulled out a tried-and-true favorite.

As I slowly scanned it, paragraph by paragraph, wondering at all that happened between the lines, it occurred to me what a strange, magical thing storytelling is.

When it works, it’s incredible. You’re there. You’re in that world, you’re feeling everything the characters feel, even as you’re predicting -- as they cannot -- what the outcome of their adventures will be. I think one of the most wonderful things about fiction is its ability to transport us, to make us part of another world, to live through other characters for a little while. For a short time the concerns of these characters seem more important than your own. Maybe that’s why good fiction is both exciting and relaxing.

Even a story that I’ve read as often as I have this one -- and even though this story is flawed (there’s a significant gap where characters who are out for a walk in the afternoon are suddenly home in bed at one in the morning) -- I love it. I keep poring over it as though it were a mystical text, wondering at the bits that were left out, wondering at the scenes that went unwritten, wondering what happened to the characters after the final page is turned. What did they say? What did they do? What exactly did that look mean?




I read it again and again, knowing that nothing will change -- nothing will have been added while I wasn’t looking, and everything still works out in the end -- yet I keep reading, keep wincing at the cruel words, smiling at the jokes, feeling relief when it all turns out happy.

Of course as a writer, it’s a little different. I can feel this for other stories, but I can’t feel it for my own. Readers write to tell me how much they worry about Adrien and Jake or how they hope everything turned out for James and Sedge or how they can’t wait until the next Will and Taylor story. Is Taylor's lung okay? Is Will going to cheat? They ask questions and analyze and…they are clearly as involved in the stories I write as I am -- though in a different way. They are as involved as I am in the stories of the authors I love. But for my own work…it’s not there. I can never see these stories as a reader does. I can never be moved by them the same way. They are never real to me in the same way.

That’s not to say that I’m not moved when I write my stories, or that I don’t lose myself in the world of my imagination -- I absolutely am and do. In fact, writing is almost like a drug. A dream. A waking dream. When you’re deep into the zone…when you’re at the point that even when you’re not writing, you’re still running the dialog, working out the plot knots, thinking through the character’s eyes…there’s nothing like it. It’s more intense than any book (though not nearly as relaxing or exciting).

It’s intense, but it’s not the same thing.

So it’s fascinating to watch readers react to the things you create. I totally understand where they’re coming from because first and foremost I am a passionate lover of books and stories. And it’s touching to think that I can do for some readers what my favorite writers do for me.




And I can even sympathize when they suggest that I write this rather than that. I feel that too. Why didn't my favorite writer ever write this scene? Why didn't she do a story where that happened? But being a writer, I know it doesn't work like that. First and foremost you have to enjoy what you write. We write for ourselves. We publish for others. I write what I like and I publish in the hopes that enough readers will enjoy my stories to make it worth my while to share them. I choose to share them, but I'd continue to write whether I published or not.

It's still a surprise -- and a delight -- that so many readers do like what I do. But for those who want me to write something else, all I can do is gently point out that first and foremost I have to enjoy what I write. The stories come to me and I like certain kinds of stories. Those certain kinds of stories are the ones I'm interested in writing. Lovely if our literary wants and needs coincide, but either way, I can only write what moves me to write.

And yet I do sympathize as I pore over this beloved story one more time, silently bemoaning the scenes the author skipped, and the conversations the characters didn't have, and -- worst of all -- the fact that this author quit writing all together. So few stories! Why did she do that? And is there a way to talk her round to starting up again?

Can you be persuaded back to loving something once you've moved on to something else? I've never found that to be true of myself. Maybe.



Just some thoughts for a rainy afternoon…

Series

The trouble with blogging is that you often belong to multiple blogs and end up having to post to a bunch of them around the same time. That's where I find myself today. I've posted to two blogs in the past week -- my own site and Fiction with Friction -- about writing series so that's what seems to be on my mine.

I'm currently working on the fourth book about Meg, Michael and Rudy in my Leashed series. Technically, it's the fifth book in the series, but one of them was about Meg's sister Noelle, not about Meg.

Leashed is one of my three mains series. In the past year, something momentous occurred in the other two. I finished them. Now, that's not to say that I won't ever write in those worlds again or won't write in those worlds. In the case of the Dark Elves, there's a whole fantasy world that I've invested a lot of time in so I probably will go back some day. In the case of Heaven Sent, I already have plans to include the guys as secondary characters in another series I plan, the Indigo Knights. But as far as the main arc of those two series goes, it's over. I've told what needed to be told and all the primary players -- and some of the secondary -- have found their HEA.

So what's next? That's the rub. I'm not sure. Other than the Knights, there's the world of Sursein Judgment to return to. Colt must have his story, after all. I've been asked to write a sequel to Just for You to find out what happens to Victor. But I really want to come up with something new. Another something I can turn into a series of books that works. That's what I like and that's what my readers seem to like as well. A series of stories that are their own thing but are part of a bigger whole. That's like life, isn't it?

New Release Tuesday--Mechele Armstrong's The Man!

I'm so so so excited. Whoo hooo! Settler's Mine 5: The Man is available.

Blurb: Colton returns to Settler’s Mine searching for his mate who he’d abandoned years before. He’d been on his way earlier, but once he and Larkin mated, they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves and it delayed his trip.

Michipi has made a new life for herself at Settler’s Mine and doesn’t want to trust Colton again, no matter how sincere he seems. Especially with his new mate receiving all the perks of the heartstone glow that she never got.

While Michipi enjoys being the subject of being two men’s desires and what they have to offer, however good they both are she can’t get past Colton’s past betrayal and denies the future of their mating. When an old enemy resurfaces to make an attempt on Colton's life, Michipi is forced to realize that she needs both men in her life. But has the knowledge come too late, and at too high a cost?

To read an excerpt!

(My copy function isn't working at Blogger to share another excerpt *sigh*. Not sure why. Had a heck of a time getting the blurb to post.)


May the muse have The Man
Mechele

The Dark Tide by Josh Lanyon

NEW RELEASE TODAY!

ISBN: 978-1-60737-490-9
Series: Adrien English Mysteries; Previous Book: Death of a Pirate King
Genre: LGBT Romantic Suspense
Length: Novel Plus
Cover Artist: Croco Designs
Price: $7.99

BLURB:
As if recovering from heart surgery beneath the gaze of his over-protective family wasn’t exasperating enough, someone keeps trying to break into Adrien English’s bookstore. What is this determined midnight intruder searching for?

When a half-century old skeleton tumbles out of the wall in the midst of the renovation of Cloak and Dagger Bookstore renovation, Adrien turns to hot and handsome ex-lover Jake Riordan -- now out-of-the closet and working as a private detective.

Jake is only too happy to have reason to stay in close contact with Adrien, but there are more surprises in Adrien’s past than either one of them expects -- and one of them may prove hazardous to Jake’s own heart.

EXCERPT:
We reached the bookstore. I thanked Lauren again, lifted a hand in farewell, and let myself into the big, empty building.

It was warm and very still inside. The heady scent of old books floated with the dust motes in the fading light. Old and used books have a particular scent -- very different from new books. That evening it was a mix of old leather, worn cloth, crumbling paper, and wood polish. It smelled like home. I couldn’t imagine willingly leaving Cloak and Dagger ever. Maybe they could stick me under the floorboards when I was done.

I walked over to the plastic wall dividing the bookstore from the other half of the building. There was no sign that the cops had been there during the day. No sign anyone had. Perhaps that was good news.

I went upstairs and unlocked my flat. It was too warm and stuffy upstairs, a bit too redolent of cat. I opened the windows to catch whatever evening breeze there was.
What had been the rush to get here again? Everything was exactly as I’d left it. As it would always be.

I sat down on the sofa, and Tomkins leaped onto the cushion beside me, rubbing his face against my arm.

“Miss me?”

Apparently so. Well, there was no accounting for taste; I’d be the first to admit that.

I dealt with the litter box, fed the cat, decided I’d opt for a snack later, considered having a drink, reconsidered, and returned to the sofa, where I stared at the ceiling for a time.

What the hell was my problem?

If I’d wanted company, why hadn’t I stayed at Lisa’s?

I listened to the distant street sounds as this part of town began to roll up the sidewalks for the evening. I listened to the building settling in for the long evening, stretching out wooden joints, cracking its knuckles.

“Oh, what the hell,” I said.

Tomkins briefly abandoned his pursuit of an ailing fly to throw me a curious look as I rose and went to the phone.

“He’s probably not even home,” I told him.

Tomkins offered no opinion. He sat down to watch, as though my dialing a phone was one of the most fascinating things he’d ever witnessed in his brief life.

The phone rang on the other end.

Once.

Twice.

I closed my eyes, trying to decide if I was going to leave a message.

“Riordan.”

I opened my eyes. Funny how the sound of his voice could still make my heart speed up. You’d have thought I’d be over it by now. You’d have thought wrong.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” One syllable, but his voice warmed perceptibly. “How are you doing?”

“Okay.” I wondered how long it would be before that statement was true.

“Yeah?”

I didn’t think there was any telltale note in my voice, yet his single questioning word held instant and complete discernment. Sometimes I thought Jake, ironically, knew me better than about anyone on the planet.

“Not really,” I admitted. “Did you hear about yesterday?”

“The skeleton in the wall? I heard.”

You could take the boy out of the police force, but you couldn’t take the police force out of the boy.

“We had another break-in too. That’s why I’m calling.”

His voice didn’t cool exactly, though it lost warmth. “Yes?”

“How’s the PI biz?”

He said colorlessly, “I got my first case yesterday. A woman wants me to follow her ex.”

“He’s already her ex?”

“Yeah.”

No wonder his voice sounded flat. “Are you going to take it?”

“Yes.” And clearly it was not up for discussion.

“Do you think you’d have time for another case?”

He sounded almost wary as he asked, “What case? Who’s the client?”

“Me,” I said. “I want to hire you.”

LA Weekly interview

I'm in an interview about gay romance in the LA Weekly! How cool is that? There are actually three bits to it. The main article, some really brief snippets from my and two friends' books and a smaller article about pen names. The Heaven Sent 2 cover is right there, bold and beautiful right across from the inside version of the lovely artwork you see above. The artwork which, by the way, is on the COVER! I'm sure there are lots of homophobes who were squirming at seeing that.

For those who don't know, the LA Weekly is a pretty big deal in the Los Angeles/Hollywood area. Just about everyone who seriously does anything in town at least knows of it if they don't pick it up (it's free) every Thursday. A lot of people who I've talked to seem more excited about the article than about the fact that I'm published. Which is kind of weird but that's the nature of the beast, I guess.

I think it was a nice bit of publicity for me, my author friends who participated and the m/m genre as a whole. I hope a lot of good comes from it.

Rituals

Recently, an interviewer asked me if I had any rituals before I started writing. I can't really remember offhand what my answer was; mostly it had to do with finding a quiet spot away from the normal distractions of our household. Maybe a little meditation to get me focused, but that was pretty much it. I can sit down and start writing cold, pretty much anytime or anywhere.

Well, that was a lie. Not an intentional one, but still, events of this night and morning have brought home to me just what a obsessive/compulsive person I am about writing. You see, I believe that writing is a craft that is powered by discipline. Yes, it's a creative art, but unfortunately, I don't run off inspiration 24/7. I'm moody and a bit lazy, and there are times when I'd much rather be outside playing than inside facing my computer. So I believe in discipline. But what I believe about myself isn't always true.

In November, I participated in NaNoWriMo, the big writing marathon that runs through the entire month. I did well, I believe I ended a bit over 52 thousand words. I completed 2 novellas and got a healthy start on a novel. Once I cleaned up one my novellas and submitted it last week, that left me facing some decisions on what to do next.

After a few days I picked my project, the sequel to Belle Starr. Fortunately, I did some early work on the book many months ago, so I'm not starting from scratch. I've got my story plotted, my characters developed and really, it should be a breeze.

Well, it isn't being easy.

I sit down, open the document and scan the work I've done. Then I take a break. That can be time on Facebook or Twitter. Maybe I'll catch up on email or write to my daughter. I'll do some "research." Usually that has to do with another project completely. I'll open another file and work on something unrelated, or go read a book. Then I return to the manuscript. This process continues for days. In the middle of the night, I get up and make muffins or go in the bathroom and search for grey hairs. Maybe take a bath and give myself a facial.

Anything...anything to avoid the manuscript that's waiting.

I finally figured out that there's not really a problem, this is simply a method of preparing my mind to turn itself over to the new book. Once I've finally submitted to the task at hand, I'll sit down and work steadily. Those hours and days that I've dithered haven't really been a waste; on some subconsious level I've been organizing my thoughts and diving into the characters. I'll go searching for music on You Tube or sorting through photos on stock photo sites. Sometimes I'll grab onto a line of poetry or a comment that someone makes in a movie. This is all fodder, setting the mood for the time to come.

Thankfully, these rituals don't always last for days on end, this is generally when I'm letting go of one story and family of characters and embracing the next project. As I sit here at 3:00am, I think that I'm nearly ready to let go of the last book and move on to the next. Of course, I'm writing a blog about my ritual of avoidance, so maybe I'm not as ready as I thought. But maybe tomorrow I will be.

Visit Belinda at her website: http://www.belindamcbride.com

Looking Back - Adrien English

Next Tuesday will see the release of the fifth and final Adrien English novel. This decade-old series is winding up at last -- with what I hope will be the strongest (certainly the longest) book so far.

So I thought it might be timely (seeing that it’s Christmas and I really don’t have it in me to find another blog -- I still have a LOT of Christmas shopping to finish up) to do a quick review of the books -- all available through Loose Id.

The Adrien English Mysteries -- combines the first two books in the series Fatal Shadows and A Dangerous Thing (very cost effective!).

Relationships can be murder. Bookseller and mystery author Adrien English is looking for love in all the wrong places -- and, according to hot and handsome LAPD detective Jake Riordan, it's liable to get him killed.

Fatal ShadowsA serial killer is stalking gay men, and a tawny-eyed LAPD detective wants bookseller Adrien English in handcuffs -- for all the wrong reasons!

A Dangerous Thing
When his romance goes south, Adrien heads north to the California Motherlode country. Can murder -- and Adrien's favorite LAPD detective -- be far behind?




The Hell You Say
Adrien English isn't really a detective, he's a bookseller and mystery writer who has a knack for attracting real life mischief and mayhem -- much to the displeasure of his sexy, sometimes-boyfriend, closeted homicide detective Jake Riordan.

When bookstore assistant Angus falls afoul of a Satanic cult, Adrien falls afoul of Jake -- but despite the fact that his amateur sleuthing is playing hell with his love life, Adrien can't help but delving into this case of kooks, cults, devil worship, and human sacrifice.







Death of a Pirate King
Gay bookseller and reluctant amateur sleuth Adrien English's writing career is suddenly taking off. His first novel, Murder Will Out, has been optioned by notorious Hollywood actor Paul Kane.

But when murder makes an appearance at a dinner party, who should be called in but Adrien's former lover, handsome closeted detective Jake Riordan, now a Lieutenant with LAPD. And that may just drive Adrien's current boyfriend, sexy UCLA professor Guy Snowden, to commit a murder of his own!





The Dark TideAs if recovering from heart surgery beneath the gaze of his over-protective family wasn’t exasperating enough, someone keeps trying to break into Adrien English’s bookstore. What is this determined midnight intruder searching for?

When a half-century old skeleton tumbles out of the wall in the midst of the renovation of Cloak and Dagger Bookstore renovation, Adrien turns to hot and handsome ex-lover Jake Riordan -- now out-of-the closet and working as a private detective.

Jake is only too happy to have reason to stay in close contact with Adrien, but there are more surprises in Adrien’s past than either one of them expects -- and one of them may prove hazardous to Jake’s own heart.

Working from Calls

Working from Calls: Six Degrees of Separation

Brenna Lyons

It’s funny how the author’s mind works. I guess if it worked like everyone else’s there wouldn’t be such a small percentage of people who are writers. Still...

The call comes out. At first glance, I really want to write something for it, but the usually-vociferous muse shrugs and tells me, “I got nothing.” I’d say it’s a first for her, but it happens often when calls for anthologies or collections come out, unless I already have something done or in process that would work for it. The logical side of my brain (ah...that left side) opines that I need to forget the call and move on to other projects.

If that was the end of it, I wouldn’t be the person I am. So, what happens next?

That pesky right brain--you know, the creative and feeling half of the picture--really wants to get in on that call. Like a small child, it’s poking the left side and whining, “But I want to write for this call. I want to. I want to. Find me something to write about.” I feel like offering right brain cheese to go with that whine...and in fact, probably nibble on some.

Back to the poor, beleaguered left brain. My left brain has never learned to be a proper parent and tell the child (right brain) that whining does not get the right brain what it wants, so the left brain is sneaking around, looking for the six degrees of separation to match the call to something interesting enough to kick the muse into gear. It’s unconscious, because if the conscious mind had an inkling of it, it would step in and smack the left brain around...and rightfully so.

The left brain, as you might know, is a pattern matcher. Mine is rather overdeveloped, as is the connection between right and left brain, which means the infantile right gets to bug the left unmercifully. “I’m bored, Mommy. I want something to do. No, I don’t want to do that. I want to write for that call I told you about.”

Back to the left brain, who is busy dedicating some small portion to satisfying right brain to shut the bugger up.

And the whole process goes something like the following...

1. I see a call for, say...holiday song stories for LooseId.

2. After running through every holiday song I know, Christian and not, the muse is still saying, “I got nothing.” And in the case of “Sailing Home for Christmas” by Doug Stone, she’s saying, “Still too raw. Try me back for that catharsis in a few more years.”

3. The back and forth of the right nagging left continues, until the left brain starts looking at holiday movies and happens upon Love Actually, one of my favorite holiday movies. Hence begins the six degrees of separation.

4. Admittedly, the “All I Want For Christmas Is You” song that Joanna Anderson (Olivia Olson) sings is my favorite, so I focus there. Sam (Thomas Sangster) desperately wants Joanna to know he’s alive, and his step-father, the new widower Daniel (Liam Neeson), helps him achieve that. In the end, both Sam and Daniel end up finding love.

5. Fresh from the heart wrenching stories of Liam Neeson losing his beloved wife Natasha Richardson, the character of Sam stuck in my mind...sort of. He was tragic but he did move on.

6. The further encroachment of Love Actually into the thought process came with the tragic love triangle of Peter (Chiwetel Ejiofor), Mark (Andrew Lincoln), and Juliet (Keira Knightley).

7. Presenting all of this to the right brain, the following happens... What if a Juliet-like woman has lost the man she loved and wanted to marry? What if she never knew the Mark-like brother of her husband-to-be loved her too? What if they remained friends, despite their feelings for each other? And what if something brought them together? Love happens, right?

8. Left brain says, “Now, go play and let me do some work over here.”

9. And right brain scurries away and creates a story aptly titled ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU for LooseId. In fact, it just released today.

All I Want For Christmas Is You- Two years after losing her fiancé Zach in a car accident, Robin is moving on. She's set her priorities, and one of them is following through with a life plan she and Zach made together...having a baby. It would be best if said child shared some of Zach's genes.

Enter David, Zach's older brother. He's Robin's best friend, her confidant, the one person who won't think she's crazy to do this...she hopes. Since there's no chance the ladies' man will fall for her, she hopes sex with him will stop the dreams where David takes Zach's place.

It's the invitation he's been waiting for, three years of watching Robin with his little brother, then watching her grieve Zach. If only she wanted David for himself and not a convenient sperm donor to conceive his brother's child. Then again, in such close quarters, maybe he'll be able to convince her to something more permanent...if his parents don't catch wind of the whole thing first.

HEA-yes, VIOLENCE-mild, LANGUAGE-graphic, SEX-erotic...anal sex/play

Cover art by April Martinez!

Happy reading!

Brenna

Kicking off my December giveaway

For the duration of this month I'm running a big ole giveaway on my blog. The grand prize is a Danielle gift set (perfume) and a ton of print books and goodies. Four other lucky individuals will win gift bagsstuffed with goodies.

The best thing is, all you have to do to enter is leave a comment. Simple as that.

For more information, please visit my blog.

http://www.amandayoung.org/2009/12/01/giving-thanks-contest/