A Fool and His Manny

This is probably mean.

But it's late, and I need an hour of television and knitting or I'll go out of my mind. 

I finished a book last night--which is why I didn't blog, because... you know... this... close... and also, Mate left for Germany, and I was missing him so the less introspection the better.

Anyway--

Tonight was another juggernaut of activity, including kids doing homework right up until bedtime.

Squish made me do maths! (A true test of a mother's love!) And ZoomBoy wrote an epilogue to Of Mice and Men that made us both cry.

I mean... 

Oh my God. 

I don't know how he did it, but he made the goddamned book sadder.

So I read him some of the funnier parts of this book, and reminded him that brave people wrote romance because they dared to dream of a happy ending, and then I hugged. 

A lot. 

And decided that for blogging, I would probably be better off just posting some Dustin and Quinlan.  This book starts 21 years after the first one ended. That baby Nica and Jacob were expecting is now fully grown, and Quinlan has been part of their family for seven years.

He is, as Dustin says, not doing as well as he could be...

*  *  *

Mads didn’t stay for coffee long.

They talked idly—music, the tour, which Mads had been a part of for a while, and about Bobbie and Chrissy and the men in their lives.

At around ten-thirty, Quinlan stood apologetically and yawned, and Mads grimaced. “Subtle, Quinlan. But I get it. You have to be up at three in the morning, out the door at four.  Walk me out?”

They got to the landing outside his door before Mads pressed for a kiss. 

Quinlan opened his mouth reluctantly.  It wasn’t a bad kiss—just a little bland. Like eating restaurant lasagna instead of Nica’s special.  He returned it dutifully, and pulled back like a gentleman, not sure what to do about Madison’s sigh.

“You’re not even giving me a chance, are you?”

“You’re a great guy,” Quinlan told him, remembering Dustin’s words.

“But I’m not your guy.”

“I’m sorry.”  And he was. The family’s hostility notwithstanding, it would have been great if he could have hooked up with another musician, someone who got his love of performance, who appreciated the time he spent on the road teaching.

“You make me sad,” Mads told him bitterly. “You’ve devoted your life to these kids, and they’re going to be grown soon, and you will have pushed away anyone who could have filled the damned void.”

“Petey’s only seven,” Quinlan told him, willing him to smile. “I’ve got a little time.”

Mads shook his head and kissed his cheek and turned away. “Later.”

Quinlan had no choice but to watch him go.

With a sigh, he leaned out on the railing as Mads clattered down the landing and hopped into his car.  The night was still warm—uncomfortably warm—and Quinlan spared a moment to be glad the tour extended into the Pacific Northwest for a little bit of relief from the heat.

“Not a late night?” Dustin asked, startling him.

Peering into the darkness of the front yard, Quinlan saw the bright ember of a cigarette glowing under the fruitless mulberry tree.

“I thought you quit for good,” Quinlan chastised. Dustin had done it for his mother’s birthday. 

“One every couple of days.” Dustin drew deeply. “Work get-togethers, that sort of thing. You gonna tell on me?”

 Quinlan half-laughed. “Not my place anymore. You’re grown, remember?”

Dustin pitched the butt to the ground and ravaged it under his tennis shoe. “I do remember,” he said mildly. “I was just making sure you did.”

“I remember.” Quinlan couldn’t deny it. “We’re exactly the same height now, and we can take you out in public.”

He was rewarded with Dustin’s low laughter. “You’re funny,” Dustin said, like it was just hitting him. “You weren’t this funny when I was a kid.”

“Not supposed to be funny when you’re trying to make sure the kid you’re watching isn’t a threat to himself or others.”

Dustin grunted. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“No.”  He hadn’t been, Quinlan thought, chest aching. “Once you warmed up to me, you were really pretty awesome.”

“Why’d you scare him away, Q?”  Dustin came out of the shadow of the tree and stood under the landing, face lit by the soda lamp over Quinlan’s shoulder. He should have looked like a kid again—an adolescent Romeo—but he didn’t. He looked like a man, determined, thoughtful. Quinlan fought off a shiver.

“You were right,” he said softly. “He was a sweet guy, but not my guy.”

“You are so lonely.”

Quinlan stepped back, the words feeling like a slap. “I am not!”

“You are.” Dustin stood there, just looking, like he was debating whether or not to come to the top of the landing or not. “You always have been. But it got worse, I think. After Sammy got sick. It was like… like you got scared. You realized how much people could mean to you, and you didn’t let us go, but you didn’t let anyone else in. And now, you’re just… stuck.”

“I don’t see you out there finding your soul mate!” Quinlan snapped, this entire conversation hurting him in ways he didn’t think he could be hurt.

Dustin’s low laughter struck him again, but this time disturbingly close to his groin. “Oh, honey,” he said silkily. “You are a smart man, and smart about people, and good and kind and intuitive. It is stunning to me, that you don’t know that I’ve found him already. But then, you’ve been hiding out in that apartment, in the back of the family photos, in your own heart for so long. You won’t even see my soulmate when he goes inside, brushes his teeth, changes his underwear, sets his alarm and goes to bed.”

Quinlan made a child’s sound, Dustin’s low gravel as hypnotizing as a perfect lullaby.

“It’s a good thing I know him when I see him,” Dustin said, like Quinlan had actually spoken. “See you in the morning, Quin.”

“Night—“ His voice squeaked and he tried again. “Night, Dusty.”

Dustin’s chuckled lingered as he turned toward the street and walked to his car, calling, “Belinda, get your ass in gear!” as he went.

The front door of the house opened and Belinda followed, shooing the dog back in as she ran out. Apparently they’d let poor Ginger back inside after Mads had left, and Quinlan thought that Mads would never know they’d actually made an effort by protecting him from the terrible hound.

He went back inside and washed the two coffee cups, fed his fish, showered, and stripped down to his boxers for bed. His suitcase, his knapsack, and his trumpet sat, neat and tidy and ready in the corner of his room, and as he put his phone in the jack and ran a mental rehearsal of grabbing his phone, the jack, his computer and cords, and his luggage before he ran down the stairs, he thought that he could do it.

He could close his eyes and sleep without letting the promise in Dustin’s voice unnerve him.

Without letting the heat of his body as they’d stood together seep through his skin and remind him how to be aroused.

Without letting Dustin’s words hurt him, taunt him, ring in the silence of his cozy, empty little sanctuary, until his heart bled and he was forced to admit that Dustin was right.

Dustin wasn’t a kid anymore, and Quinlan was a very lonely man.

So, ZoomBoy, how was school?

So, I pick ZoomBoy up from school and the conversation goes like this:

Me: So, ZoomBoy, how was school?

ZB: It was okay--we didn't have PE.

Me: Why not?

ZB: Because we had career day. The classes were cut short.

Me: That was exciting.

ZB: Yeah, sure.

Okay--the end.

Now, we took ZB's cat, Dewey, in for a vet's appointment today. ZB came with me. The silence in the car got thick and boring, so I tried again.

Me: So, how was career day?

ZB: It was okay. The Freshmen didn't get the best picks because the seniors went first.

Me: So what was left?

ZB: Well, I got personal finance, IT, and broadcasting and media.

Me: Broadcasting and media? That's cool.

ZB: Yup.

Me: Did you have a guest speaker?

ZB: Yup.

Me: What did he have to say?

ZB: Well, he'd done all these interviews--J.J. Abrams, the Franco brothers, the cast of Rogue 1, people from Star Trek, all sorts of people. He had stories about those guys. I guess he's on the news or something.

Side note here: Sacramento is a small town, but there's really only one person who fits this description, and he's a local celebrity.  Anybody in Sacramento has heard of Mark S. Allen.

Me: ZoomBoy, do you mean to tell me that your career class was taught by Mark S. Allen?

ZB: Yeah-- that was his name! How'd you know? He put us on his FB page and everything!

Me: Kid, you are killing me. Killing. Me.  Holy God, you're the worst. Have you ever heard of burying the lede?

Anyway-- here's the video from today when ZoomBoy's class got to talk to Mark S. Allen. You can see him in the middle back, toward the right, in a gray shirt. God help me if anything REALLY interesting ever happens to him at school--I won't find out until he's thirty years old.

Damned Car

My day was way more boring than it had to be.

Last time we had the car serviced, I said, "Hey--the battery died after I played music in the car for twenty minutes"

And the woman told me, "Well, you're not supposed to do that. Batteries die."

And I just gaped at her, because if that was true, there would have been no drive in movie industry. Yes, SOME of the cars needed jump starts, but if the entire goddamned movie theater couldn't move at the end of a movie because people listened to the movie through their car radios, then nobody would have come back ever again.

But I was done that day--I have 0x0=i0 patience with car service people anyway. I frequently infuriate Mate by going to the Quick Change oil place--the place where you drive your car in, stay in the passenger seat, listen to music from your radio, and watch hot young men run around your car and check all the fluids. They bring your dogs doggie treats and they bring you coffee or juice or chocolate, and the service takes less than an hour, so THAT brings me joy.

In that case, we just decided we would replace the goddamned battery if it died again.

Mate bought me a juice box-- a battery charger that you charge when your car is running.  Then when your car DIES you can jump start it from the juice box--it's pretty ingenious. You can also charge your cell phone and a few other things from it, and generally, it goes down with water and an emergency blanket as  a handy thing to have.

But the car was still balking--WHAH-wha-wha-wha-WHA-wha-wha-wha whenever we started it, so I took it in today.

And they were running WAY behind, so Mate took me home, went to work, picked the kids up and then took me to go get the damned car.

In the meantime, I texted Mate, "Hey! Car guys called! Guess how much!"

He sends back, "$500"

"How did you know?"

"It doesn't matter if we take it in to get the window's washed, it costs $500."

He's right of course.

So, my day was boring, the dogs got no walkies, I got no pool, but the car got a new battery and that's going to be that.

Okay, fine. I guess I could have walked the dogs around the neighborhood... but that's the other thing.

I really did get some writing done!

ZoomBoy Grows Taller

Busy weekend!

Chicken's birthday was today, but we had a family dinner at Wong's which is sort of tradition. I surprised Chicken with clothes and pie, but her real present was concert tickets, and she texted me from the event and it sounded like she had fun.

Anyway-- we had to do the dinner on Friday because she had the concert today (her actual birthday) and ZoomBoy had the Homecoming dance last night.

Now, here's the thing.

Mate and I--eternally shy, Mate and I--didn't come even close to having the social life this boy has.

He asked a girl to the dance--and got a "soft no"--she wasn't going period, but she was very flattered to be asked. So he asked me for money (and he does anything we ask around here, so I was glad to give it) and bought his ticket, and then asked politely for us to go shopping.

"For what?" I asked.

"AAA batteries and deodorant."

Hahahahaha... like any woman with a kid going to a dance and another kid having a birthday and another kid just cheerfully along for the ride ever just walked into Target and bought batteries and deodorant.

I mean we bought the batteries--and the Desperado scented Old Spice (and just look at the picture--I could have gotten him BearGlove and HawkRidge and still not scratched the surface of the Old Spice imprint insanity) but we also got  ZoomBoy some slick new "school dance" clothes.

Oh--and we got Chicken an Eeyore union suit and Squish... well, a unicorn.

Unicorn pajamas.

Because, seriously.

But anyway-- Chicken was watching ZoomBoy and Squish on Homecoming dance night while we took in a movie and dinner for our birthdays. (Mate is going to be gone next weekend, and I shall be turning fifty alone... aloooooooooone.... ALLLLOOOOOOOOOONE....)  and that was all planned.

PLANNED I tell you, PLANNED, a week ago, right down to me texting two different times to people for Chicken's birthday dinner because we hadn't counted on Homecoming, THAT kind of planned.

What we didn't plan for was the morning before Homecoming, Mate knocked on the kitchen door with stuff on his hands, and ZoomBoy went TEAR-ASSING THROUGH THE KITCHEN, skidded his foot on a mat on the tile, and landed on his ass.

You heard me.    

The day of the dance, my kid sprained his ass.

Mate thought it was just a deep bruise, but judging by his troll-like walk I assessed it as sciatica, and it persisted in spite of icing, medication, and lots of sciatica stretches, because it was a REALLY HARD FALL.

So, he didn't plan for spraining his ass.

And honestly, he didn't plan for the tie, either. The tie was definitely a surprise. Big T sent me the pictures, and I said, "We decided to find the tie?" and ZB said, "Yes. Because I wanted a tie." "You couldn't have told me about the tie at Target so I could have gotten one that matched?" "I like that tie."  "Okay."

So, two unplanned things for Homecoming.

This morning, as he was online, gaming with his younger friends, I heard the following conversation:

"So, I fell down yesterday and broke my butt. No, seriously. Broke it. Tell 'em, Mom!"

"He fell down and sprained his ass! How old are your friends?"

"Eight. They're dad's friends' kids."

"Oh aces."

"So I did! I broke my butt and then I went to homecoming. And I danced. No, seriously. I slow danced. With a girl. Uh-huh. It's totally true."

So there you go. That's our ZoomBoy--getting a little bit older, and a little bit taller.

And spraining his ass and wearing a tie.

He might still need me for a little bit. Just saying.

Picking Out Cover Models

Also known as God Bless Reese Dante, because she puts up with this from me about four times a year...

So, he's got a thin nose, a pointed chin, he's in his thirties, lines by the eyes, hazel eyes, not blue, blue will do, can you make them bluish brown?

He's got a long build, okay, muscles are nice, I like muscles, I guess this guy's muscles are, yeah I got distracted my next guy will be built, I promise, but this guy needs long hair and is skinny and sort of like that guy from the show that you don't know, let me find a picture...

Oooh...

That took longer than I thought, no it's not stock photo, sorry, do you need one from the stock photo place, I hate that place, all those guys look too happy, what's the deal with the teeth?

And here's one--wait, he's 17? Oh that's embarrassing, how's this one--18? Oh wow. No, I"m not a perv I swear, but they're college age, and everybody under 30 looks like they're in high school to me.

Oh God. I'm too old to pick out a cute guy. I"m gonna get myself arrested, how bout him?

No, he's got a broad nose and a square jaw and brown hair--can we make him blond? With hazel eyes? And, yes. Lines by the eyes.

Cause he's not eighteen.

Well the other guy's in his twenties.

But neither of them are eighteen.

Okay, old guy, no muscles... well, not scrawny but... oh Lord. Yeah, no. I thought that guy would look good but not blond. Jesus, not a blond. I'm so sorry. I made you make that guy blond for six photos.

That was a crime against nature.

Look at more stock photos? Sure.

There's this one, but nose.

This one, but chin.

This one, but eyes.

This one but... oh God no what am I thinking I couldn't bone that even if I was thirty cause he gives me the creeps.

As, yes, I'm sure I'm doing to you. Mental picture erased, let's forget that model exists.

Okay, this guy, he's a blond, right? The eyes. Yeah. Hazel eyes. God, he's cute. Not that my guy was supposed to be cute--they're never cute on paper, but ugly guys don't sell books.

That sounded venal.

Well, it's a little venal.

I know--in real life, I go for guys that look just like that, but this is fantasy, I get it. We need to sell the fantasy.

This guy?

No, this guy?

With this guy?

Oh God no, those two people should never meet under any circumstances ever. If aliens ever put them under glass to mate they'd let the species die out before those two people spent more than a nanosecond  occupying the same space.

That guy? Blond?

Oh Jesus, what am I saying. I should have learned. NEVER FORCE BLOND!

That guy 's cute.

Yeah, he's the original young guy.

I don't know what to say--I know he's everywhere but there's a reason for that.

Whole world loves him.  Kittens want to purr in his arms, dogs want to lick his face, I want to lick his chest, let's go with him.

Unless, of course, he looks like that with this other guy.

Oh my God--that's like negative chemistry. You could put those two people in a cadmium rod and clean up nuclear spills.

Okay.

This guy-- ugh. Never mind.

This guy, with glasses, a shorter jaw, a longer nose, caterpillar eyebrows, some gray in his beard and a hooded sweatshirt.

Oh my God--Mate?

Crap. That won't work. This guy's supposed to be thirty.

When did I forget what thirty looked like?

Oh. Yeah. Thirty didn't look like that when I was thirty.

This guy? Yeah. Not thirty.

Oh Jesus. This guy. No, I don't want him--he just looks like Putin. Please tell me nobody put Putin on a gay romance--I may gag.

Okay, this guy? I like this guy. YAY! We found a guy!

This guy?  Looks just like the other guy. That'll be great. OH MY GOD IT'S THE SAME GUY. How did I do that? We can have the same guy twice, except one of them's blond with long hair and one of them has glasses. People will think I'm writing twincest. Really weird twincest.

Okay, this guy. His hair needs to be red. The same red as my daughter's hair--her lightest color needs to be his darkest color. And he needs to be looking at me three quarters, but I still need to see his ass. What do you mean they can't do that--isn't that one shot? That model? Angelina Jolie?

Okay, fine. YOu're right. Tomb Raider isn't reality.

Okay.

What about this guy?  Yeah.

You're right.

Gross.

I give up.

Yes I do.

No, I do.

Deck chairs on the beach with a Christmas tree.

It'll be great. Nobody will buy it. They'll think it's haunted Christmas.

But won't have to look at another stock photography model with too darned many teeth.

Or, God save us all, Putin.

Pretty pretty yarn...

So I got a new order of yarn in the mail--it's called Halloweentown (I think) and it's from Nerd Girl Yarns.   Now, if you go to the page and look around, you'll realize that they dye yarns in fandoms-- so, a lot of their yarns are named after, say, characters or lines from Dr. Who or The Avengers or Supernatural.

Which I think is THE ABSOLUTE COOLEST THING EVER.

So, I was still tripping on the excitement of my Nerd Girl Yarn delivery, when I realized that, as the wave-crashing insanity of my whatever-sockyarn shawl continued, I was going to need, perhaps, some purple in my next sequence. (Trust me-- there IS a stripe sequence here--give it two or three more repeats and it will become clear.)

So, I was crawling through the sock archives when I discovered, THIS.

It was dyed (I believe) by a wonderful woman named Nancy Ianone who read the Green's Hill books ten years ago, and sent me a skein of sock yarn dyed around Green (the green!), Bracken (the brown gray), and Cory (the sunshine yellow:-)  It looks like the ocean--and probably would have been perfect for Wave Crash (as I've now dubbed it) but... but... it's so pretty. It was made JUST FOR MY GUYS.

I love it so.

But it did make me think.

One of my favorite things--and this is sock yarn I've kept-- was when Opal yarns put out Harry Potter color ways. I was able to get Ron Weasely and Albus Dumbledore.  I still have them--I look at them sometimes as I'm sifting through the archives and just pet them.

I love them so.

Now, I know not a lot of people respond on the blog itself--but I DO get a lot of responses on social media, so feel free to chat me up there.

What colors do your favorite characters make you think of?  Not just mine--although PLEASE if you have an idea for my characters, send me, by all means!  But any of your favorite characters--if you have a color way or a sock yarn or just a few bars on Colour Lovers, by all means send me a swatch.  What colors do you think best suit your favorite characters in books, film, or TV?  I mean, if you think about it, for visual literature, people spend HOURS looking at swatches and palettes-- it's only natural for us to pick up on those, right? And authors think about hair color, eye color, what kind of furniture this character would have, what they would like to wear--

What colors are your characters in love with?

I'm dying to find out...

Mate's Favorite Things

Movies--ALL movies, he has no particular favorites. In my memory, I only remember him NOT watching four or five movies to the end.

But he does have a few favorites, movies or television shows he'll stop anything for, stay up late for, tape and watch over and over again.   

You've Got e-Mail

Sleepless In Seattle

Hidden Figures

Apollo 13

The Right Stuff

Say Anything

Major League

The Fifth Element

The Princess Bride

Friends

Castle

Buffy

Bob's Burgers

Archer

Rick and Morty

I am not quite like my Mate.

I love movies-- some movies.

Mate likes Paul Thomas Anderson Movies.

They creep me out.

Mate likes Rick and Morty and Bob's Burgers.

When I was a kid, I was forced to watch Heavy Metal and Wizards and Nine Lives of Fritz the Cat in the theater. 

They totally freaked me out. Sadly, I'm not a fan of grownup cartoons, animated blood, vomit, or semen. 

There, I said it.

I feel better.

But I too have some movies that I can watch again and again and again...

Say Anything

The Princess Bride

A Knight's Tale

Last of the Mohicans

The 13th Warrior

Gladiator

Die Hard 1, 3 & 4

Twister

Men in Black

Independence Day

Serenity

Firefly

Castle

Hidden Figures

Out of Sight

Ocean's 11

Logan Lucky

Guardians of the Galaxy 1 & 2

All 3 of the Star Trek reboots

Fifth Element

Midsomer Mysteries

Supernatural

Mate will put up with almost all of my movies and shows--except Supernatural. It sends him into the other room.

I haven't seen any of the last two seasons. This makes me want to cry.

But the thing is, they're close.

Not exact.

But close enough.

He favors more romance.

I favor more shit go boom.

He'll watch Newt Scamander's Fierce Creatures and Where to Find Them a dozen times and I can watch it to keep him company. I'll watch 1-7 of the Harry Potter movies at any time and he'll do the same.

I only mention this because there does come a time in your lives when your happiness depends on what you can do at the same time, in the same place, while in the house together.

It doesn't matter that I'm knitting and he's writing soccer e-mails--

What matters is that we can deal with the same TV while we're doing it.

It's something nobody tells you in romance books or relationship books. TV (or books or movies or music or other quiet domestic things like exercising together or walking the dogs or going beer tasting) can make the difference. 

And eventually, I will talk him and the kids into watching the next two seasons of Supernatural. 

Cause, you know. Winchester brothers. There it is.

The Green's Hill Werewolves and Upcoming Projects...

 In the world of the Little Goddess

After a rocky start and some unexpected battles, Teague Sullivan may have found a home at Green’s Hill. With Jack and Katy by his side, he has the chance to achieve a happiness he only dreamed of during his impoverished childhood.

But much of Teague’s happiness depends upon being worthy of serving Green and Lady Cory, two leaders he’d die for and two people who gave him a chance to be a good man. Teague needs to serve them to feel worthy of love, but Jack resents anything that takes Teague away from his lovers, even his duty.

The three of them, Jack, Teague, and Katy, perform a delicate dance with an uncertain crescendo. What's more likely to destroy them? Jack's jealousy, Cory's wrath, or the true enemy, the rival wolf pack with the insane leaders who are trying to take over Green's turf? Teague Sullivan, who never thought much of himself, is suddenly the crux of everything he's ever loved. Can he become the man and alpha wolf his people need? 

Available at Amazon

Okay-- so the second volume of The Green's Hill Werewolves is coming out tomorrow, and folks on my FB Group (Amy Lane Anonymous--come join the madness!) have been asking for an "Update post"--sort of a "catch all" of what's coming up and what I"m working on now--and I'm happy to oblige.

First of all-- The Green's Hill Werewolves being re-released is sort of a big deal for me. I know I haven't jumped through hoops, but having these stories joint the rest in the Little Goddess world makes me very happy. Even today, after all these years I get people telling me, "You know, Teague is my favorite."

And that's hands down--even all of the other tortured heroes I've written, Teague is their favorite.

I love that. And I love that now that I've written Quickening, Parts 1 & 2, we get to see Teague rise to his full potential--but he starts here. In the werewolf stories that I originally wrote as a way to stretch my "sex writing muscles."  

And as a way to write heroes, male heroes, having sex without a girl present. Yes, I know there is Katy, and the threesome sex was AWESOME. 

The these guys were my first m/m couple, even if there's a girl in the mix.

So I'm proud and happy that they're covered so beautifully, and that people might get a chance to read them. 

So...

After that?

Well, we have Familiar Angel, which should be up on DSP ANY DAY NOW. Like, before Friday at the latest. 

Now, I have talked about two angel stories--one, I've used "Tucker" as a shorthand, and that book is All the Rules of Heaven, which is an urban fantasy series. The first book of which should be out in April. This book here, Familiar Angel, is different.

Familiar Angel is part of a three book series, the Familiar series.  The first one is this October, Familiar Demon is next October, and Familiar Lover should be the October after that.

These stories center around three young men escaping a brothel, who stumble into a clearing where they see a sorceress, an angel, and a demon come together in power to rescue her demon lover.

In the course of the magical goings on, she makes the boys her familiars--and they become family. 

140 years later, the family business is rescuing victims of human trafficking--a cause dear to their hearts. 

But being heroes takes its toll, and each of the boys has to find their way to a forever lover who will keep their hearts as they risk their still youthful bodies. 

The first one is Harry's story. And for reference in the photo, Harry is the cat. 

Suriel is the angel. 

Together, they were beautiful.  

BTW? I'm gonna brag here? 

Cindy Dees, that's RITA AWARD WINNING Cindy Dees read my book and put a cover blurb on it. 

I almost swoon looking at that gorgeous, Cindy Dees blessed, Reese Dante cover every damned time.

And after that?

Well, I don't have a cover yet--but blame Irma on that because Reese Dante is doing the cover for that one, and she just got power back. 

Reese is on the case though, and I'll have a cover for Regret Me Not, my yearly Christmas novella, very soon.  It should be out in Late November

In the meantime, take a look at this:

This is the cover for a collection of my previous Christmas novellas--the ones that haven't been put into collections before (like Winter Courtship of Fur Bearing Critters, which is in the Granby Knitting Menagerie collection or Candy Man which is included in the paperback of Bitter Taffy) or weren't paperback length to start with, such as Winter Ball, Christmas Kitsch, or Freckles. 

These are my short novellas--most of them written for the Dreamspinner Advent Calendar.  They're between 20-30K in length, and guaranteed angst free and adorable, and now available in paperback as of December 25th.

You're welcome :-)

Now, after Christmas, coming out in February/March, is Bobby Green. No cover for that yet, but yes, it's the sequel to Black John, and it's 125K, and it's got some hard moments in it. Not as hard as John's book, but some moments.  

After Bobby is All the Rules of Heaven--which is being self produced because seriously, it clicks no boxes. In typical ME fashion, Heaven just isn't box-able, so I decided not to force it. It's urban fantasy, which means I'll write about Tucker and Angel whenever I have a minute, and it's set in Gold Country. And it DOES acknowledge the existence of Green's Hill, so in future books, there may be some cameos.

After Heaven, we have the third book in the Manny series, Stand by Your Manny. It should be out in May, and it's Sammy's story.  

For those of you wondering what I'm working on now?

Well, a character named Quinlan appears at the end of Sammy and Cooper's book, a sweet boy who takes care of Sammy when he's away from home and takes no for an answer. I'm working on Quinlan's story--which is also Dustin's story. Remember Dustin? The obnoxious little shit who catapulted lasagna onto Taylor's eyepatch? 

Well he's 14 in Stand by Your Manny, and 21 in A Fool and His Manny--and that's the story I'm working on right now. It should be the last of the Mannies, and I've really loved writing the Lowells/Robbins/Graysons. They feel like family.

Now, after Stand by Your Manny, things get a little up in the air.

I've finished the first in a "mixed" series-- m/f, m/m, and one m/m/f story. The series is called Stealing Home, and the first story, Seasons in the Sun is Juniper and Gus's second chance at love. The entire series is based around a fictional baseball team called the Sacramento Mud Wumpets, and I'm planning to release Juni in June, appropriately enough.

And after that...

Well, I can tell you what I'm working on in what order, but not when it comes out:

Now: A Fool and His Manny

Next: Crocus, sequel to Bonfires

After that: Give a Fish a Bicycle, sequel to Red Fish, Dead Fish

January-ish--Familiar Demon, sequel to Familiar Angel

February/March-ish--Pop Fly--sequel to Seasons in the Sun

April/May-ish--Fall Games--sequel to Winter Ball and Summer Lessons

May/June-ish--Christmas novella

July-ish--Triple Play--Sequel to Seasons in the Sun

And honestly, that's as far as I can plan without my little brain exploding.

So there you go. That's my scheduled work about a year in advance--enjoy!