I'm feeling mildly better--but the only--and I mean ONLY thing I did over the last two days was pack, edit, and finish Mate's sweater. Now, Friday night I read at the Lavender Library, and Saturday morning I had a chapter meeting where I got to see Anna J. Stewart and hear Sheryl Lister's rather amazing presentation on dialog, and after that?
Well I huddled in a blanket and tried hard to sleep. I wore my slippers. I drugged the fuck up. I tried hard to kick this bug before it kicked the shit out of me.
Mate cooked dinner. Twice. And brought me my coffee this morning, because it was clear I wasn't getting out to walk the dogs. I've got my fingers crossed that I'll be better tomorrow--I'm going to bed early for a 4:30 wake up and a 6:41 flight.
Here's hoping. I'm also packing a fuckton of cold meds. Wheee!
And as for anything else I've packed?
Your guess is as good as mine. Could fit, could be a circus tent, could be a Chihuahua sweater--we'll only know when we arrive in Florida and it looks like crap.
Also?
I don't know if I have enough swag.
It's bothering me.
Like, REALLY bothering me.
But there's nothing I can do about it now.
The one thing--one GREAT thing--that I accomplished this weekend besides a shitton of editing, was finishing Mate's sweater.
It's crocheted, out of Plymouth yarn cakes and Encore, which is a 25%/75% blend of wool and acrylic. I know--I usually love the all wool myself, but for throwing in the wash with the rest of the sweatshirts (which is how my family cares for yarn!) this is pretty much the best.
The pattern is my own, top town, and what was supposed to be a straight line down the center, a sort of pattern feature caused by joining the yarn, seems to be a spiral down the front. I am STILL not sure why it does that, but Mate swears it doesn't matter. He's also not sure he'll wear it to work--but I think he's pleased.
He posed like Obi Wan Mate for a couple of pictures--be sure to tell him he looks very wise.
Sunday, February 24, 2019
Thursday, February 21, 2019
Ugh... I get on a plane when?
So, Squish and Mate have been sick ALL WEEK, and they've shared.
Last night I started taking Zicam and Motrin and spiking a fever and I'm EXHAUSTED but I can't sleep and I have a reading tomorrow and a meeting on Saturday and I need to fold clothes and pack in the meantime.
*sniffle*
I'll be honest.
I took the kids in for a mani-pedi today--it's been the only really fun thing they've gotten to do all week, and they've had it OFF. Squish got purple nails with flowers (in spite of my mother's assertion that this will end up with her getting pregnant at sixteen because she's not old enough for dark colors, I am made of wet cardboard and I think Squish is too level headed for that bullshit, so I caved.)
ZoomBoy got turquoise sparkles, Chicken got pastels, and I got brand colors that I immediately biffed.
Twice.
And I was wearing capris and sandals ALL DAY and I don't think that made the whole "I'm sick!" thing any better.
So I'll be downing Zicam for the next five days and hopefully I can sleep on the plane, and then I'll be at Karen's house for a couple of days and then we're going to Coastal Magic.
If you see me at Coastal Magic and I look a little... uh.... o)).((o, it's because all the things are hurting and I want to sleep.
But I'll be there anyway--because I miss everybody, and, well, I said I would.
Everybody, let's cheer on Zicam and Motrin, okay?
Last night I started taking Zicam and Motrin and spiking a fever and I'm EXHAUSTED but I can't sleep and I have a reading tomorrow and a meeting on Saturday and I need to fold clothes and pack in the meantime.
*sniffle*
I'll be honest.
I took the kids in for a mani-pedi today--it's been the only really fun thing they've gotten to do all week, and they've had it OFF. Squish got purple nails with flowers (in spite of my mother's assertion that this will end up with her getting pregnant at sixteen because she's not old enough for dark colors, I am made of wet cardboard and I think Squish is too level headed for that bullshit, so I caved.)
ZoomBoy got turquoise sparkles, Chicken got pastels, and I got brand colors that I immediately biffed.
Twice.
And I was wearing capris and sandals ALL DAY and I don't think that made the whole "I'm sick!" thing any better.
So I'll be downing Zicam for the next five days and hopefully I can sleep on the plane, and then I'll be at Karen's house for a couple of days and then we're going to Coastal Magic.
If you see me at Coastal Magic and I look a little... uh.... o)).((o, it's because all the things are hurting and I want to sleep.
But I'll be there anyway--because I miss everybody, and, well, I said I would.
Everybody, let's cheer on Zicam and Motrin, okay?
Wednesday, February 20, 2019
Do your balls hang low...
So, Mate and I were watching TV tonight and I had a sudden urge to talk about a book I turned in a month ago.
Yeah, right? I don't do this often, because as proud of I am of what I do for a living, I also tend not to inflict my imaginary people on my loved ones, because I'm very aware that once I do, I don't stop. I do this in public, too--if you hear me plotting out loud and suddenly I get all tongue-tied and blushy it's sheer self-consciousness. I'd just as soon drop the finished version on everybody's plate and run away and very carefully only look at the good things you have to say about it. But sometimes, sometimes, I HAVE to talk about my imaginary people and this was one of those times.
So I open my mouth to tell Mate about the character arc of Kell, a secondary character in Beneath the Stain and Paint it Black, and how proud I was that Kellogg James had a lot of character growth when Mate shifted in the couch across from me and grimaced.
"Wha--"
"I twisted my balls. I went to cross my legs and there's not as much thigh gap as there used to be. Ouch."
I opened my mouth and closed it and we both started that insidious laughter, the kind that snorts between your tongue and your palate and that won't stop.
"It happens!" he explained. "It's like, they sag low, and pretty soon you're sitting on them!"
I can only make sounds at this point. And we sit for a moment, snickering, and he says, "They get tangled! That's something that doesn't make it into your books!"
And I manage, "Every time you open your mouth something more wonderful comes out!"
And we''re stuck again, not able to breathe.
Finally, I say, "You know, you can talk about this all night long and it still won't stop me from talking about imaginary people!"
"I know!" he howls and we're gone.
The kids come in and ask us what's so funny, and we can't. We just can't.
I finally get around to telling him about Kell and his wonderful plot arc, but I just keep thinking about "That's something that doesn't make it into your books!"
Watch me.
Yeah, right? I don't do this often, because as proud of I am of what I do for a living, I also tend not to inflict my imaginary people on my loved ones, because I'm very aware that once I do, I don't stop. I do this in public, too--if you hear me plotting out loud and suddenly I get all tongue-tied and blushy it's sheer self-consciousness. I'd just as soon drop the finished version on everybody's plate and run away and very carefully only look at the good things you have to say about it. But sometimes, sometimes, I HAVE to talk about my imaginary people and this was one of those times.
So I open my mouth to tell Mate about the character arc of Kell, a secondary character in Beneath the Stain and Paint it Black, and how proud I was that Kellogg James had a lot of character growth when Mate shifted in the couch across from me and grimaced.
"Wha--"
"I twisted my balls. I went to cross my legs and there's not as much thigh gap as there used to be. Ouch."
I opened my mouth and closed it and we both started that insidious laughter, the kind that snorts between your tongue and your palate and that won't stop.
"It happens!" he explained. "It's like, they sag low, and pretty soon you're sitting on them!"
I can only make sounds at this point. And we sit for a moment, snickering, and he says, "They get tangled! That's something that doesn't make it into your books!"
And I manage, "Every time you open your mouth something more wonderful comes out!"
And we''re stuck again, not able to breathe.
Finally, I say, "You know, you can talk about this all night long and it still won't stop me from talking about imaginary people!"
"I know!" he howls and we're gone.
The kids come in and ask us what's so funny, and we can't. We just can't.
I finally get around to telling him about Kell and his wonderful plot arc, but I just keep thinking about "That's something that doesn't make it into your books!"
Watch me.
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Fun With Maths and Engineering
Okay-- you have to click the link.
THIS LINK HERE.
DO YOU SEE THAT?
Like, OMG-- it's a baby jacket made in two pieces. By crocheting a SIX-SIDED SQUARE, each side with a right angle. Which is like... you know, WAY TOO MANY ANGLES. So, when you fold this six-sided thing, something magical happens. Something that only needs an arm seam to make it half a jacket.
And you add another six sided square and OMG IT'S FUCKING MAGIC!
I can't even...
I'm just...
Like, OMG CAN YOU EVEN?
AND THERE'S A GROWNUP VERSION!
And the thing is, it's like the Elizabeth Zimmerman Baby Surprise Jacket because with that, you're working on a misshapen rectangle, that looks sort of like a tortured starfish, right? and then, when it gets to be the right size, you sew up the shoulder seam all the way down to the wrist and SURPRISE, IT'S A JACKET! Which is, as you know, how it got its name.
And yes, I should know this by now. I've been experimenting with sweaters and crochet and how to make a sweater in one piece, just add arms later, and I really really really love doing ALL OF THAT.
But I have to tell you.
Math and I have never been friends. I used to cry when I had to do physics homework. The only way I could ever reason my way through math was with words.
So to see math done in yarn, and to see it engineered to look like something amazing, and--ESPECIALLY with the use of color--to make it more than amazing, to make it MAGICAL...
Well, it makes me think better of people and the Goddess. It just really does. Because we could throw on any old thing, really. We need clothes to protect us from the elements. There are EASIER and CHEAPER ways to get sweaters-- every knitter and crocheter knows it.
But we don't do that. We sit with a project on our laps and work on it until we take string and a hook or a couple of sticks and make something beautiful and amazing and functional and sometimes even fun, and we give it to somebody else and say, "On to the next miracle!"
And we take joy in almost every stitch. (I say almost. Yes, I've had some projects that I've hated... but you try not to hate on the project... it feels like that poisons the wool.)
So there you go.
Today's daily miracle.
A six sided square with 540 degrees of angles, folded in half, and sewn up along two sides, then joined with another piece of the same yarn-igami.
And in the simple things, I see the divine.
THIS LINK HERE.
DO YOU SEE THAT?
Like, OMG-- it's a baby jacket made in two pieces. By crocheting a SIX-SIDED SQUARE, each side with a right angle. Which is like... you know, WAY TOO MANY ANGLES. So, when you fold this six-sided thing, something magical happens. Something that only needs an arm seam to make it half a jacket.
And you add another six sided square and OMG IT'S FUCKING MAGIC!
I can't even...
I'm just...
Like, OMG CAN YOU EVEN?
AND THERE'S A GROWNUP VERSION!
And the thing is, it's like the Elizabeth Zimmerman Baby Surprise Jacket because with that, you're working on a misshapen rectangle, that looks sort of like a tortured starfish, right? and then, when it gets to be the right size, you sew up the shoulder seam all the way down to the wrist and SURPRISE, IT'S A JACKET! Which is, as you know, how it got its name.
And yes, I should know this by now. I've been experimenting with sweaters and crochet and how to make a sweater in one piece, just add arms later, and I really really really love doing ALL OF THAT.
But I have to tell you.
Math and I have never been friends. I used to cry when I had to do physics homework. The only way I could ever reason my way through math was with words.
So to see math done in yarn, and to see it engineered to look like something amazing, and--ESPECIALLY with the use of color--to make it more than amazing, to make it MAGICAL...
Well, it makes me think better of people and the Goddess. It just really does. Because we could throw on any old thing, really. We need clothes to protect us from the elements. There are EASIER and CHEAPER ways to get sweaters-- every knitter and crocheter knows it.
But we don't do that. We sit with a project on our laps and work on it until we take string and a hook or a couple of sticks and make something beautiful and amazing and functional and sometimes even fun, and we give it to somebody else and say, "On to the next miracle!"
And we take joy in almost every stitch. (I say almost. Yes, I've had some projects that I've hated... but you try not to hate on the project... it feels like that poisons the wool.)
So there you go.
Today's daily miracle.
A six sided square with 540 degrees of angles, folded in half, and sewn up along two sides, then joined with another piece of the same yarn-igami.
And in the simple things, I see the divine.
Sunday, February 17, 2019
*runs around with hair on fire*
So, was GOING to spend all day working on the Shitty Craft Book-- spent it working on swag instead. The good news is, part of my swag is Suitcase Sachets, made wit Scentsy-- and it smelled REALLY good. But other than that, I've got bits and bobs--and a pressing need to write 3K tonight after I'm done blogging. Don't mind the snippets here folks, I can hardly hold a complete thought in my widdle bwain.
*
We got home from the grocery store and saw Dewey sitting on the porch, staring at us with what ZoomBoy calls his judging face.
Me: Oh my goodness, lookit dat FLOOF!
Mate: That is the dumbest cat we've ever had.
Me: No! He's just composed!
Mate: Bullshit! That face right there? The face ZoomBoy calls his judging face?
Me: Yes--isn't he cute?
Mate: That's the face someone makes when they're listing to the sound of the wind whistling between their ears!
Me: OMG!
Mate: *whistles* whhhhooooooooooooooooooooosh......
Sadly enough, I'll never look at that cat the same way again.
*
While Mate and I did Avenger's Swag Assemble (also known as Amy Lane's little sweatshop) we watched The Umbrella Academy-- first six episodes. OMG. At first we were like, "Hey, it's like, the Avengers meets the Royal Tenenbaums" and then we realized that we had the Royal Tenenbaums right, but the crossover film would be Looper. And it's really good. And stylized. And ironic. And rip-your-heart-out. And dark. Really really fuckin' dark. But we loved it, and it kept us good company as we worked on swag for SIX HOURS.
*
The kids gave the dogs baths.
The funny part was Geoffie, who was SO JEALOUS. "All those OTHER dogs are getting attention, why aren't *I* getting attention? Huh? Huh? Huh?" And then she got a bath and she was SO HAPPY!!!!!
Dogs are weird. That dog is more me than any human I know.
*
Mate and I went out to dinner Friday night because it was February the 15th, and February the 14th is for amateurs. Anyway-- dinner was WONDERFUL, but the funniest part was our waiter.
He looked like Dex.
I mean, he lOOKED LIKE DEX.
And he had a Dex voice.
And I was so distracted.
"He looks like Dex!" I squeaked. "Like from my books."
"I know who Dex is," Mate said dryly.
"You do?"
"Yeah. I do."
And then I was no longer distracted, because Mate knows who Dex is.
*
Squish keeps getting upset because her YA novels don't end on an HEA. I keep giving her my old Harlequins instead.
I think this is how a lot of us started reading romance.
Because dammit, we wanted to be happy at the end.
*
We got home from the grocery store and saw Dewey sitting on the porch, staring at us with what ZoomBoy calls his judging face.
Me: Oh my goodness, lookit dat FLOOF!
Mate: That is the dumbest cat we've ever had.
Me: No! He's just composed!
Mate: Bullshit! That face right there? The face ZoomBoy calls his judging face?
Me: Yes--isn't he cute?
Mate: That's the face someone makes when they're listing to the sound of the wind whistling between their ears!
Me: OMG!
Mate: *whistles* whhhhooooooooooooooooooooosh......
Sadly enough, I'll never look at that cat the same way again.
*
While Mate and I did Avenger's Swag Assemble (also known as Amy Lane's little sweatshop) we watched The Umbrella Academy-- first six episodes. OMG. At first we were like, "Hey, it's like, the Avengers meets the Royal Tenenbaums" and then we realized that we had the Royal Tenenbaums right, but the crossover film would be Looper. And it's really good. And stylized. And ironic. And rip-your-heart-out. And dark. Really really fuckin' dark. But we loved it, and it kept us good company as we worked on swag for SIX HOURS.
*
The kids gave the dogs baths.
The funny part was Geoffie, who was SO JEALOUS. "All those OTHER dogs are getting attention, why aren't *I* getting attention? Huh? Huh? Huh?" And then she got a bath and she was SO HAPPY!!!!!
Dogs are weird. That dog is more me than any human I know.
*
Mate and I went out to dinner Friday night because it was February the 15th, and February the 14th is for amateurs. Anyway-- dinner was WONDERFUL, but the funniest part was our waiter.
He looked like Dex.
I mean, he lOOKED LIKE DEX.
And he had a Dex voice.
And I was so distracted.
"He looks like Dex!" I squeaked. "Like from my books."
"I know who Dex is," Mate said dryly.
"You do?"
"Yeah. I do."
And then I was no longer distracted, because Mate knows who Dex is.
*
Squish keeps getting upset because her YA novels don't end on an HEA. I keep giving her my old Harlequins instead.
I think this is how a lot of us started reading romance.
Because dammit, we wanted to be happy at the end.
Friday, February 15, 2019
Waiting, Sweetheart, Waiting... A Jai/George Installment
"George... George? Hello, are you going to give me that tablet?"
George looked up from outer space and pulled himself back to the ICU. "Yeah, Amal-- here."
Amal Dara was George's supervisor--it was his job to check out George's paperwork from his shift. Off duty, they were friends. They'd tried dating--once--but both had agreed that their one kiss had been like kissing a relative. A female relative.
"Where are you? You've been somewhere else all week!"
George smiled faintly. "Going camping tonight. You know. Sort of..."
"Hoping you don't get stood up in the mountains?"
George had tried to explain--oh, he had. He'd tried to explain about Jai taking care of him, about how steady he'd been, about watching the sunset together, and the marvelous kiss. He'd talked about sleeping folded up in Jai's arms, like he was delicate and precious. He'd tried--he really had.
Apparently all Amal had heard was, "You threw up on the guy and you think he's coming back."
George grunted. "He texted me last night and said he'd be there." He couldn't seem to emphasize how much he thought this meant. "And Annaliese is watching the cat. So, you know. If nothing else, I've got my camping gear ready. I might as well go."
"Go and not get laid," Amal said.
"Don't be judgy. It wasn't like I was getting laid anyway."
"Yeah, cause you're too good for a threesome!" Amal laughed and George rolled his eyes.
"George, Harvey, and Gary," George reminded him. "Think about how boring that threesome would have been, with all those names. 'It's like, hey, I've got a small white penis, you have a small white penis, we all have small white penises! This'll be GREAT!'"
Amal smirked. "I've seen you in the showers. You have a medium white penis."
"So. Much. Better." If George rolled his eyes any harder, they'd sproing out of his head. "The point is, I don't care how big or what color his penis is, he's interesting. He's... he's kind. And he sat and watched a sunset with me with the sort of concentration other guys spare for sports. And he acted like kissing me was a big deal and not even you can pretend to do that."
Amal grimaced. "That may be true," he conceded. "But this doesn't mean I want to spend next week searching the mountains for your remains. You are going to be here Monday morning, aren't you?"
George smiled reassuringly. "Unless I get the stomach flu again, I promise."
Amal just shook his head. "Tell Annaliese to call me if you don't check in on your cat. What was this guy's name again?"
"Jai," George repeated. "No, I don't know his last name."
"That's reassuring."
"I think he used to be with the mob," George told him. "But don't quote me on that."
Amal was staring at him, so George snagged his tablet back just long enough to sign himself out and then gave it back. "Have fun looking for my remains!"
But as he hit the showers and then hopped in his truck for home, he wasn't thinking about being scared. He was thinking about seeing Jai again, and the way his brown eyes had been gentle and smiling as he'd kissed George goodbye in the dark of the morning.
He was wondering if they'd light up with joy when George showed up around sunset, and if George could get another kiss looking decent, when he'd gotten a couple of them looking like hell.
* * *
Jai paced the campground for the third time, making sure everything was set up like it should be. He'd brought spaghetti and was reheating it on the camp stove, along with a small pot of hot chocolate, and some cut up apples in the ice chest. IT wasn't fancy, but Jai didn't eat fancy, and they were camping and...
And George had texted him back. Had reserved the camp site. Had double checked. Had told him when he was leaving. Had texted him from the gas station.
Every text had been like a little bell signaling, "We shall have sex now!" in the back of Jai's mind.
He tried to tell himself it was ridiculous--George would take one look at him, his giant body, his evil smile--and shrink away in revulsion. The Jai who donned coveralls and helped Ace and Sonny out in the garage was an ex-mobster. Hell, he still performed nefarious deeds if he was needed. His George... his sweet, gentle lost little soul--didn't need a Jai in his life.
But apparently Jai had hope, because the tend was up, the sleeping bags were zipped, and Jai had even remembered a little bit of eucalyptus mint freshener for the bags and the pillows.
The tent didn't smell like feet.
It was a miracle.
The only thing that remained was to see if George would actually show, and if he did, would he actually--
Oh no. There he was.
His truck hadn't been looked at since Jai had tuned it the month before, and Jai grunted. Why did people think they could abuse their vehicles and not have them turn rabid? He'd have to look at it while they were there.
But right now George was skidding to a halt, back end of the truck fishtailing as he came in to rest behind Jai's Toyota.
He slid out and practically ran across the campsite, and right into Jai's arms.
Jai caught him, surprised. He'd been expecting a moment of awkwardness that would enable George to beat his hasty retreat, but what he got was an arm full of George--more than that. George gave a small hop and wrapped his legs around Jai's waist and took his mouth.
Jai opened for him no question, so primed for this kiss they could have been in a firefight and it wouldn't have stopped him. He sucked on George's tongue or a moment and then let George free to plunder, to take his mouth to assert ownership, while Jai cupped his ass and pulled him as close as humanly possible with that much clothing on.
Finally, George wiggled and Jai let him slide down his body. "Into the tent?" he asked breathlessly, eyes huge, pale cheeks a mess of razor burn because Jai could shave three times a day and still sport stubble.
"I have dinner," Jai said, hoping that wasn't a deal breaker.
George straightened up and smiled. "Really? That's..." He bit his lip, the shyness from their last meeting not entirely gone. "That's wonderful. You cooked dinner?"
"Spaghetti." Jai shrugged. "Hot chocolate. Apple slices. Is not fancy."
"But it's thoughtful," George murmured. "It's thoughtful, and I'd be a heel to turn it down. Let's sit down and have dinner, Jai. Let's talk about the last month. And then let's go to the tent and..." Oh, that wicked smile he had, when he was letting Jai know sex was on the table. "Let's finish that kiss."
It was Jai's turn to bite his lip. "I thought the kiss was finished," he said with dignity.
"Oh, no. That kiss is just getting started, my friend. I have so many plans for where it will go!"
George looked up from outer space and pulled himself back to the ICU. "Yeah, Amal-- here."
Amal Dara was George's supervisor--it was his job to check out George's paperwork from his shift. Off duty, they were friends. They'd tried dating--once--but both had agreed that their one kiss had been like kissing a relative. A female relative.
"Where are you? You've been somewhere else all week!"
George smiled faintly. "Going camping tonight. You know. Sort of..."
"Hoping you don't get stood up in the mountains?"
George had tried to explain--oh, he had. He'd tried to explain about Jai taking care of him, about how steady he'd been, about watching the sunset together, and the marvelous kiss. He'd talked about sleeping folded up in Jai's arms, like he was delicate and precious. He'd tried--he really had.
Apparently all Amal had heard was, "You threw up on the guy and you think he's coming back."
George grunted. "He texted me last night and said he'd be there." He couldn't seem to emphasize how much he thought this meant. "And Annaliese is watching the cat. So, you know. If nothing else, I've got my camping gear ready. I might as well go."
"Go and not get laid," Amal said.
"Don't be judgy. It wasn't like I was getting laid anyway."
"Yeah, cause you're too good for a threesome!" Amal laughed and George rolled his eyes.
"George, Harvey, and Gary," George reminded him. "Think about how boring that threesome would have been, with all those names. 'It's like, hey, I've got a small white penis, you have a small white penis, we all have small white penises! This'll be GREAT!'"
Amal smirked. "I've seen you in the showers. You have a medium white penis."
"So. Much. Better." If George rolled his eyes any harder, they'd sproing out of his head. "The point is, I don't care how big or what color his penis is, he's interesting. He's... he's kind. And he sat and watched a sunset with me with the sort of concentration other guys spare for sports. And he acted like kissing me was a big deal and not even you can pretend to do that."
Amal grimaced. "That may be true," he conceded. "But this doesn't mean I want to spend next week searching the mountains for your remains. You are going to be here Monday morning, aren't you?"
George smiled reassuringly. "Unless I get the stomach flu again, I promise."
Amal just shook his head. "Tell Annaliese to call me if you don't check in on your cat. What was this guy's name again?"
"Jai," George repeated. "No, I don't know his last name."
"That's reassuring."
"I think he used to be with the mob," George told him. "But don't quote me on that."
Amal was staring at him, so George snagged his tablet back just long enough to sign himself out and then gave it back. "Have fun looking for my remains!"
But as he hit the showers and then hopped in his truck for home, he wasn't thinking about being scared. He was thinking about seeing Jai again, and the way his brown eyes had been gentle and smiling as he'd kissed George goodbye in the dark of the morning.
He was wondering if they'd light up with joy when George showed up around sunset, and if George could get another kiss looking decent, when he'd gotten a couple of them looking like hell.
* * *
Jai paced the campground for the third time, making sure everything was set up like it should be. He'd brought spaghetti and was reheating it on the camp stove, along with a small pot of hot chocolate, and some cut up apples in the ice chest. IT wasn't fancy, but Jai didn't eat fancy, and they were camping and...
And George had texted him back. Had reserved the camp site. Had double checked. Had told him when he was leaving. Had texted him from the gas station.
Every text had been like a little bell signaling, "We shall have sex now!" in the back of Jai's mind.
He tried to tell himself it was ridiculous--George would take one look at him, his giant body, his evil smile--and shrink away in revulsion. The Jai who donned coveralls and helped Ace and Sonny out in the garage was an ex-mobster. Hell, he still performed nefarious deeds if he was needed. His George... his sweet, gentle lost little soul--didn't need a Jai in his life.
But apparently Jai had hope, because the tend was up, the sleeping bags were zipped, and Jai had even remembered a little bit of eucalyptus mint freshener for the bags and the pillows.
The tent didn't smell like feet.
It was a miracle.
The only thing that remained was to see if George would actually show, and if he did, would he actually--
Oh no. There he was.
His truck hadn't been looked at since Jai had tuned it the month before, and Jai grunted. Why did people think they could abuse their vehicles and not have them turn rabid? He'd have to look at it while they were there.
But right now George was skidding to a halt, back end of the truck fishtailing as he came in to rest behind Jai's Toyota.
He slid out and practically ran across the campsite, and right into Jai's arms.
Jai caught him, surprised. He'd been expecting a moment of awkwardness that would enable George to beat his hasty retreat, but what he got was an arm full of George--more than that. George gave a small hop and wrapped his legs around Jai's waist and took his mouth.
Jai opened for him no question, so primed for this kiss they could have been in a firefight and it wouldn't have stopped him. He sucked on George's tongue or a moment and then let George free to plunder, to take his mouth to assert ownership, while Jai cupped his ass and pulled him as close as humanly possible with that much clothing on.
Finally, George wiggled and Jai let him slide down his body. "Into the tent?" he asked breathlessly, eyes huge, pale cheeks a mess of razor burn because Jai could shave three times a day and still sport stubble.
"I have dinner," Jai said, hoping that wasn't a deal breaker.
George straightened up and smiled. "Really? That's..." He bit his lip, the shyness from their last meeting not entirely gone. "That's wonderful. You cooked dinner?"
"Spaghetti." Jai shrugged. "Hot chocolate. Apple slices. Is not fancy."
"But it's thoughtful," George murmured. "It's thoughtful, and I'd be a heel to turn it down. Let's sit down and have dinner, Jai. Let's talk about the last month. And then let's go to the tent and..." Oh, that wicked smile he had, when he was letting Jai know sex was on the table. "Let's finish that kiss."
It was Jai's turn to bite his lip. "I thought the kiss was finished," he said with dignity.
"Oh, no. That kiss is just getting started, my friend. I have so many plans for where it will go!"
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Rain, Rain...
So, it's been raining here pretty steadily all day. Chicken and I went to take the dogs to the park and found that all the walkways near the little stream were flooded--as Chicken told the dogs, "It's a Chihuahua death trap there, guys, and we want you to live!"
So, super short walkies, obviously no shimmies, and rain and rain and rain.
Sacramento is used to rain--before climate change, it had a ten year flood cycle. Every ten years it flooded. Every twenty years it got Biblical. Right now is the first time in twenty years that's felt Biblical.
When I worked at Natomas, they had to wait to get clearance to build more in the area-- they were afraid of the levee breaking. Apparently, after Hurricane Katrina hit Louisiana, Natomas was rated in the three most likely places to flood. I'm not sure if the levee was shored up, or if the seven years of drought made people dumb, or if money changed hands, but they've been building up a storm out there-- so far, nothing bad has happened.
But Natomas is really close to Rio Linda--a.k.a. Levee Oaks, which may sound familiar to folks who loved the Keeping Promise Rock books. One of the things that prompted the big flooding scene in that book was that Rio Linda floods ALL THE TIME. One year, my friend was looking for horse property and had an appointment to meet her realtor at a house in Rio Linda. The realtor canceled, my friend went anyway, and the house was UNDER WATER.
Because that's Rio Linda.
One year, when we lived in Sacramento--close to where Fair Oaks turns to J Street, but a few blocks over--we got a call from Mate's mother. She wanted to know if we were okay. Her call woke me up and I was like, "Uh, yeah, Dee-- we're great. How're you?"
"Amy, have you even looked outside?"
"Nope. Looks sunny out there!"
"Have Mate turn on the news."
And right there was a picture of our block. Our set of fourplexes were the only ones NOT under water. Lucky us.
In 1986 a series of SUPER DOOPER SHITTY decisions ended up with my friend and I driving on a flooded road on the shittiest night of the year. Her distributor cap got wet because the car was up to its hood in water (and NOT as she maintains, because a good samaritan stopped to drag a picnic table across a flooded bridge, which I helped with) and the car eventually stalled and we walked the three miles to the place her horse was being stabled. The whole thing that set us off was that a number of horses drowned at Cal Expo (where there's horse racing sometimes) because nobody had let them out of their stalls, and she wanted to check on her horse. I'd told my parents I was staying with her--and didn't want to admit to doing anything so bumfuck stupid as walking three miles in knee deep flooding, barefoot, so, while my folks' house was a mile away, we just kept walking to make sure her horse was okay. Damned animal was fine.
Anyway--I remember rain.
I'm going to give thoughts of safety to everyone, man or beast, outside tonight, and wish everybody inside a snug, warm, safe house. I"m going to hope that we all stay dry and that the rain finds a place to go that wreaks havoc on neither man nor road.
I'm going to quietly remember that although there will always be things like work and stress and things I MUST DO TODAY OR ALL WILL BE LOST, there are ALWAYS forces bigger than myself out there, and they need to be respected.
In this part of California, where drought can break you and rain can wash away the pieces, we know how to respect the rain.
Monday, February 11, 2019
Familiar Demon
So, tomorrow is the release day of Familiar Demon, and I have to say-- I was SO DAMNED EXCITED to go back to my old stomping grounds of paranormal romance and urban fantasy.
The first book-- Familiar Angel--was about Harry and Suriel, and I wanted it to be a cross between Hawaii 5-0 and Romeo and Juliet. Suriel was the Angel Bound to service-- he and Harry had been in love for a century--but Suriel had to trust in the love enough to cut his bonds with heaven, and he had to escape the ties of obligation that literally bound his corporeal form to the other plane.
Harry was a reckless trouble magnet who could beat an entire squadron of bad guys after getting teleported into a firefight naked.
Yeah. I gotta admit. I had fun.
But Familiar Demon was a different story.
For one thing, Familiar Angel was supposed to be a Dreamspun Beyond, but they felt it was too heavy in the world building department (which is funny, because some people complain it's too light. Yeesh.) It was published as a regular romance, and... well, like with so much of what I write, nobody was sure where to put it. I'm troublesome that way, I admit it.
Anyway, those things that held me back in world building (and sensuality!) when writing Familiar Angel were no longer present in Familiar Demon, and boy did I go to town.
The world building, the sex, the shapeshifters careening around the known universe to have an existential scavenger hunt in the family minivan--oh my word, I had so much fun with this book.
And in the end, I brought it back to my first love, the first world I'd ever built, and one of the things I've written that I'm proudest of. I brought it back to Green's Hill, and the world of the Little Familiar Demon, I also hope it was fun to visit them again.
Goddess. And while I hope Cory and company didn't overwhelm the action in
So Familiar Demon is out--and it's a new peek into the world of the Little Goddess.
And it's a chance to visit Harry and Suriel some more.
And I hope it's a hell of a lot of fun.
Come check it out.
Familiar Angel
One hundred and forty years ago, Harry, Edward, and Francis met an angel, a demon, and a sorceress while escaping imprisonment and worse! They emerged with a new family—and shapeshifting powers beyond their wildest dreams.
Now Harry and his brothers use their sorcery to rescue those enslaved in human trafficking—but Harry’s not doing so well. Pining for Suriel the angel has driven him to take more and more risks until his family desperately asks Suriel for an intervention.
In order for Suriel to escape the bindings of heaven, he needs to be sure enough of his love to fight to be with Harry. Back when they first met, Harry was feral and angry, and he didn’t know enough about love for Suriel to justify that risk. Can Suriel trust in Harry enough now to break his bonds of service for the boy who has loved his Familiar Angel for nearly a century and a half?
Mullins was lured into hell through desperation—and a fatal mistake. He’s done his best to hang onto his soul in the twisted realm of the underworld, and serving the Youngblood family when summoned has been his only joy. Edward concocts a plan to spring Mullins by collecting a series of items to perform an ancient ritual—an idea that terrifies Mullins. He can’t bear the thought of losing Edward and his brothers to a dangerous quest.
But every item in their collection is an adventure in brotherhood and magic, and as Mullins watches from the sidelines, he becomes more and more hopeful that they will succeed. When the time comes for Mullins to join the mission, can he find enough faith and hope to redeem himself and allow himself happiness in the arms of a man who would literally go to hell and back—and beyond—to have Mullins by his side?
Little Goddess: Book One
Working graveyards in a gas station seems a small price for Cory to pay to get her degree and get the hell out of her tiny town. She's terrified of disappearing into the aimless masses of the lost and the young who haunt her neck of the woods. Until the night she actually stops looking at her books and looks up. What awaits her is a world she has only read about—one filled with fantastical creatures that she's sure she could never be.
And then Adrian walks in, bearing a wealth of pain, an agonizing secret, and a hundred and fifty years with a lover he's afraid she won't understand. In one breathless kiss, her entire understanding of her own worth and destiny is turned completely upside down. When her newfound world explodes into violence and Adrian's lover—and prince—walks into the picture, she's forced to explore feelings and abilities she's never dreamed of. The first thing she discovers is that love doesn't fit into nice neat little boxes. The second thing is that risking your life is nothing compared to facing who you really are—and who you'll kill to protect.
The first book-- Familiar Angel--was about Harry and Suriel, and I wanted it to be a cross between Hawaii 5-0 and Romeo and Juliet. Suriel was the Angel Bound to service-- he and Harry had been in love for a century--but Suriel had to trust in the love enough to cut his bonds with heaven, and he had to escape the ties of obligation that literally bound his corporeal form to the other plane.
Harry was a reckless trouble magnet who could beat an entire squadron of bad guys after getting teleported into a firefight naked.
Yeah. I gotta admit. I had fun.
But Familiar Demon was a different story.
For one thing, Familiar Angel was supposed to be a Dreamspun Beyond, but they felt it was too heavy in the world building department (which is funny, because some people complain it's too light. Yeesh.) It was published as a regular romance, and... well, like with so much of what I write, nobody was sure where to put it. I'm troublesome that way, I admit it.
Anyway, those things that held me back in world building (and sensuality!) when writing Familiar Angel were no longer present in Familiar Demon, and boy did I go to town.
The world building, the sex, the shapeshifters careening around the known universe to have an existential scavenger hunt in the family minivan--oh my word, I had so much fun with this book.
And in the end, I brought it back to my first love, the first world I'd ever built, and one of the things I've written that I'm proudest of. I brought it back to Green's Hill, and the world of the Little Familiar Demon, I also hope it was fun to visit them again.
Goddess. And while I hope Cory and company didn't overwhelm the action in
So Familiar Demon is out--and it's a new peek into the world of the Little Goddess.
And it's a chance to visit Harry and Suriel some more.
And I hope it's a hell of a lot of fun.
Come check it out.
Familiar Angel
One hundred and forty years ago, Harry, Edward, and Francis met an angel, a demon, and a sorceress while escaping imprisonment and worse! They emerged with a new family—and shapeshifting powers beyond their wildest dreams.
Now Harry and his brothers use their sorcery to rescue those enslaved in human trafficking—but Harry’s not doing so well. Pining for Suriel the angel has driven him to take more and more risks until his family desperately asks Suriel for an intervention.
In order for Suriel to escape the bindings of heaven, he needs to be sure enough of his love to fight to be with Harry. Back when they first met, Harry was feral and angry, and he didn’t know enough about love for Suriel to justify that risk. Can Suriel trust in Harry enough now to break his bonds of service for the boy who has loved his Familiar Angel for nearly a century and a half?
Familiar Demon
Familiar Love: Book Two
For over a century, Edward Youngblood has been the logical one in a family of temperamental magical beings. But reason has not made him immune to passion, and Edward’s passion for Mullins, the family’s demon instructor, has only grown.Mullins was lured into hell through desperation—and a fatal mistake. He’s done his best to hang onto his soul in the twisted realm of the underworld, and serving the Youngblood family when summoned has been his only joy. Edward concocts a plan to spring Mullins by collecting a series of items to perform an ancient ritual—an idea that terrifies Mullins. He can’t bear the thought of losing Edward and his brothers to a dangerous quest.
But every item in their collection is an adventure in brotherhood and magic, and as Mullins watches from the sidelines, he becomes more and more hopeful that they will succeed. When the time comes for Mullins to join the mission, can he find enough faith and hope to redeem himself and allow himself happiness in the arms of a man who would literally go to hell and back—and beyond—to have Mullins by his side?
The Little Goddess Series-- Start with Vulnerable...
Working graveyards in a gas station seems a small price for Cory to pay to get her degree and get the hell out of her tiny town. She's terrified of disappearing into the aimless masses of the lost and the young who haunt her neck of the woods. Until the night she actually stops looking at her books and looks up. What awaits her is a world she has only read about—one filled with fantastical creatures that she's sure she could never be.
And then Adrian walks in, bearing a wealth of pain, an agonizing secret, and a hundred and fifty years with a lover he's afraid she won't understand. In one breathless kiss, her entire understanding of her own worth and destiny is turned completely upside down. When her newfound world explodes into violence and Adrian's lover—and prince—walks into the picture, she's forced to explore feelings and abilities she's never dreamed of. The first thing she discovers is that love doesn't fit into nice neat little boxes. The second thing is that risking your life is nothing compared to facing who you really are—and who you'll kill to protect.
Friday, February 8, 2019
10 Interesting Things About Working Late
10--You stop needing your nap and time becomes relative.
9--Second dinner becomes a thing, but it's eaten standing up in front of the pantry as you imagine what you were doing.
8--WHO STOLE MY GLASS OF WATER? Oh. Just empty. I'll get it in a minute. (One Hour Later...) WHO STOLE MY GLASS OF WATER??
7-- Is that blanket moving? Why is that blanket moving? OH MY GOD THAT BLANKET HAS EYES? Oh shit--Gibbs? For sweet fucks sake you scared me to death.
6--Squish, why are you awake again? To read a good story to get the taste of the sad one out of your mouth? Who authorized that? Well, shit yeah, that was me. Are we crying anymore? Okay, fine, go to bed.
5--Well, I did a blog tour, some business, and I finished the second Shitty Craft Book revision. I'm going to bed.
4-- I need to do 2K on my actual book? *laughs hysterically* Maybe not.
3--Is it getting colder in here, or is it just because it's 35 degrees outside, I'm sitting by the window, and the heater shut off two hours ago?
2--Who needs a sweater and slippers when you've got a couch blanket and a dog bed?
1--Well, it must be time to go to bed. I can't feel my feet.
9--Second dinner becomes a thing, but it's eaten standing up in front of the pantry as you imagine what you were doing.
8--WHO STOLE MY GLASS OF WATER? Oh. Just empty. I'll get it in a minute. (One Hour Later...) WHO STOLE MY GLASS OF WATER??
7-- Is that blanket moving? Why is that blanket moving? OH MY GOD THAT BLANKET HAS EYES? Oh shit--Gibbs? For sweet fucks sake you scared me to death.
6--Squish, why are you awake again? To read a good story to get the taste of the sad one out of your mouth? Who authorized that? Well, shit yeah, that was me. Are we crying anymore? Okay, fine, go to bed.
5--Well, I did a blog tour, some business, and I finished the second Shitty Craft Book revision. I'm going to bed.
4-- I need to do 2K on my actual book? *laughs hysterically* Maybe not.
3--Is it getting colder in here, or is it just because it's 35 degrees outside, I'm sitting by the window, and the heater shut off two hours ago?
2--Who needs a sweater and slippers when you've got a couch blanket and a dog bed?
1--Well, it must be time to go to bed. I can't feel my feet.
Wednesday, February 6, 2019
Oops! Sorry about that!
I literally forgot to blog last night.
See, what happened there was this...
I spent all day in second revisions for the Shitty Craft Book and saved the evening after the family went to bed to do some serious writing on Fish. And then, at 11:30 pm, I stopped what I was doing and said, "Oh shit, I gotta..." because I had missed a deadline that got moved up a smidge.
And what I had to do was write a little story for Yarn! magazine, and it came out adorable, but there was a sweater attached. I mean, literally a sweater in the story and my editor wanted a pattern for it.
Well, like everything else in my life, this got shuttled to a little bit later--and suddenly, it was late.
So at 12:30 in the morning I was writing a crochet pattern for a sweater I made a little while ago, and people? I will tell you right now-- it involved MATHS. The terrible, awful, horrible hated MATHS. And counting. And I counted and then counted again and then wrote in crochet-- which is an entire other language, you have no idea, and then I counted and did maths again.
Anyway when I was done with that, I still had to write 2K on Fish on a Bicycle because YO! and then at 1:30 in the morning I went to bed.
And I woke up this morning and thought, "Oh, hey. Nobody will miss me..." And then I felt guilty because blogging has been sort of a habit and a regime for... well, thirteen years now.
So anyway, my brain is full of things. So many things. And tonight, after a nap punctuated by texts and calls and I don't know what, I rolled out of bed and got the kids in the car to go to dance, and I kept trying to think... just think... you know. To like order all of the many things...
And Squish wanted to talk. She wanted to talk and talk and talk and talk and she relaxed the conversation for a moment and two things that had been trying to connect in my head like magnets but had gotten pushed apart like words finally connected and I screamed "OH MY GOD! SHIT! GODDAMMIT!"
And the kids said, "WHAT? WHAT WAS THAT? OH MY GOD ARE WE GONNA DIE?"
And I said, "No, I just have to start my blog tour-- it's late."
And they said, "NEXT TIME SAY THAT! WE THOUGHT WE WERE GONNA DIE!"
No. Not going to die. But I really do need some sleep. And to finish this revision and this blog tour and this book.
And some sleep.
But hey-- Familiar Demon is out next week and Little Goddess fans, beware. There is a sizable chunk of the book spent in the LG.
Heh heh... I had fun with that.
See, what happened there was this...
I spent all day in second revisions for the Shitty Craft Book and saved the evening after the family went to bed to do some serious writing on Fish. And then, at 11:30 pm, I stopped what I was doing and said, "Oh shit, I gotta..." because I had missed a deadline that got moved up a smidge.
And what I had to do was write a little story for Yarn! magazine, and it came out adorable, but there was a sweater attached. I mean, literally a sweater in the story and my editor wanted a pattern for it.
Well, like everything else in my life, this got shuttled to a little bit later--and suddenly, it was late.
So at 12:30 in the morning I was writing a crochet pattern for a sweater I made a little while ago, and people? I will tell you right now-- it involved MATHS. The terrible, awful, horrible hated MATHS. And counting. And I counted and then counted again and then wrote in crochet-- which is an entire other language, you have no idea, and then I counted and did maths again.
Anyway when I was done with that, I still had to write 2K on Fish on a Bicycle because YO! and then at 1:30 in the morning I went to bed.
And I woke up this morning and thought, "Oh, hey. Nobody will miss me..." And then I felt guilty because blogging has been sort of a habit and a regime for... well, thirteen years now.
So anyway, my brain is full of things. So many things. And tonight, after a nap punctuated by texts and calls and I don't know what, I rolled out of bed and got the kids in the car to go to dance, and I kept trying to think... just think... you know. To like order all of the many things...
And Squish wanted to talk. She wanted to talk and talk and talk and talk and she relaxed the conversation for a moment and two things that had been trying to connect in my head like magnets but had gotten pushed apart like words finally connected and I screamed "OH MY GOD! SHIT! GODDAMMIT!"
And the kids said, "WHAT? WHAT WAS THAT? OH MY GOD ARE WE GONNA DIE?"
And I said, "No, I just have to start my blog tour-- it's late."
And they said, "NEXT TIME SAY THAT! WE THOUGHT WE WERE GONNA DIE!"
No. Not going to die. But I really do need some sleep. And to finish this revision and this blog tour and this book.
And some sleep.
But hey-- Familiar Demon is out next week and Little Goddess fans, beware. There is a sizable chunk of the book spent in the LG.
Heh heh... I had fun with that.
Monday, February 4, 2019
Kermit Flail-- the month of love!
YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!
We have a GREAT set of offerings this month--and, may I say it, a surprising number of paranormals for February! It's like everybody who didn't want to write lovely fluffy Valentines Day romance wrote about demons and ghosts instead. It's like Halloween in February--and I am on BOARD!
And our two contemporaries look just sweet as can be--and since the 14th is Christmas for romance readers, we ALL need a little bit of sweet in our lives! Kate McMurray gives us See the Light, a sweet friends-to-lovers story, and Ariel Tachna's adorable Rebuild My Heart gives us opposites attract and a surprise family!
And as for demons and ghosts...
Well, gay romance's answer to Mary Janice Davison, Ms. E.J. Russell gives us Demon on the Down-Low, and yes, it looks adorable! And in Not Dead Yet Jenn Burke gives us the beginning of a hot new series featuring a part-time ghost and his ex-boyfriend and a whole lot of twists I don't give away--but I can tell you I was THRILLED when I realized these guys would be showing up on my Kindle again!
And then there's me, with Familiar Demon, the sequel to Familiar Angel, this book featuring Edward and Mullins and a love story that took 140 years to come true.
So it's beginning to look like a fabulous February--and I hope you think so too!
YAYAYAYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!
by Kate McMurray
Up-and-coming Broadway actor Jeremy was given two days to get up and get out. Dumped by his long-term boyfriend and suddenly homeless, he needs a sofa and a sympathetic ear, stat.
Enter Max, aspiring makeup artist and Jeremy’s BFF and former roommate.
Max has been in love with his best friend forever. Now that Jeremy is back in his home, his old feelings are back, too. He’s happy to help his friend, but this time…it’s complicated.
When Jeremy gets his big break in a new show, the message of the play hits home. “Live life to the fullest” means recognizing how he really feels about Max, and that’s not complicated at all. Jeremy’s in love, and wants to move full steam ahead.
But Max has waited too long for Jeremy to look at him this way, and he doesn’t want to risk his heart. If this is just a rebound fling, or if Jeremy is only interested in Max because he’s convenient, it will not only shatter him—it will ruin the best friendship he’s ever known.
Demon on the Down-Low
by E.J. Russell
After decades of unrequited love, this kangaroo will jump at the chance for a date. Any date.
Lovelorn kangaroo shifter Hamish Mulherne, drummer for the mega-hit rock band Hunter’s Moon, waited years for the band’s jaguar shifter bassist to notice him. Instead, she’s just gotten married and is in a thriving poly relationship. How is Hamish supposed to compete with that? But with everyone else in the band mated and revoltingly happy, he needs somebody. Since he can’t expect true love to strike twice, he signs up with Supernatural Selection. Because what the hell.
When Zeke Oz was placed at Supernatural Selection through the Sheol work-release program, he thought he was the luckiest demon alive. But when he seems responsible for several massive matchmaking errors, he’s put on notice: find the perfect match for Hamish, or get booted back to Sheol for good. The only catch? He has to do it without the agency’s matchmaking spells, and Hamish simply will not engage.
But Zeke starts to believe that the reason all of Hamish’s dates fizzle is because nobody in the database is good enough for him. And Hamish realizes that his perfect match might be the cute demon who’s trying so hard to make him happy.
Rebuild My Heart
by Ariel Tachna
A love built to last.
When Derek Jackson is hired to renovate the LGBT bookstore that’s also Owen Hensley’s home, opposites attract. Derek is a big burly blue-collar guy, about ten years older than slight, sweet, and bookish Owen. As they spend time together, it becomes clear that each handsome outside leads to a beautiful interior. Far from the shy twink he appears, Owen has a rock-solid foundation that helped him put himself through college and start his own business. Behind Derek’s strong façade waits a tender heart that’s been battered by a rough family past—something Owen understands.
After Owen’s runaway nephew lands on his doorstep, it throws a wrench in their plans. Derek can’t ask Owen to choose, but he doesn’t think he can take second place with his lover the way he always has with his family. Can they find a way to keep their romance standing?
And Ariel is offering a chance to win one of three paperback copies by entering her FB Group from the link here:
by Jenn Burke
Wes Cooper was dead. Then he wasn’t—though he’s not exactly alive, either. As an immortal not-ghost, he can transition between this world and the otherplane, which makes him the perfect thief for hire. For seventy years he’s made a “living” returning items to their rightful owners, seeing his fair share of the bizarre in the process. But he’s never witnessed murder. Until now.
His latest mission brings him more than he bargained for: a very-dead actor who is definitely going to stay that way. It’s just Wes’s luck that his ex-boyfriend, Detective Hudson Rojas, is assigned to the case. Hudson broke Wes’s heart years ago—and could again, given he’s rocking a hot silver-fox look that shouldn’t be legal.
As they work together to track down the murderer before anyone else gets hurt, it becomes clear Wes and Hudson have unfinished business. And when a secret Hudson’s been keeping threatens more than just their happiness, it might mean the end of their not-life together—permanently.
His latest mission brings him more than he bargained for: a very-dead actor who is definitely going to stay that way. It’s just Wes’s luck that his ex-boyfriend, Detective Hudson Rojas, is assigned to the case. Hudson broke Wes’s heart years ago—and could again, given he’s rocking a hot silver-fox look that shouldn’t be legal.
As they work together to track down the murderer before anyone else gets hurt, it becomes clear Wes and Hudson have unfinished business. And when a secret Hudson’s been keeping threatens more than just their happiness, it might mean the end of their not-life together—permanently.
by Amy Lane
For over a century, Edward Youngblood has been the logical one in a family of temperamental magical beings. But reason has not made him immune to passion, and Edward’s passion for Mullins, the family’s demon instructor, has only grown.
Mullins was lured into hell through desperation—and a fatal mistake. He’s done his best to hang onto his soul in the twisted realm of the underworld, and serving the Youngblood family when summoned has been his only joy. Edward concocts a plan to spring Mullins by collecting a series of items to perform an ancient ritual—an idea that terrifies Mullins. He can’t bear the thought of losing Edward and his brothers to a dangerous quest.
But every item in their collection is an adventure in brotherhood and magic, and as Mullins watches from the sidelines, he becomes more and more hopeful that they will succeed. When the time comes for Mullins to join the mission, can he find enough faith and hope to redeem himself and allow himself happiness in the arms of a man who would literally go to hell and back—and beyond—to have Mullins by his side?
Surfacing!
Well, I'm ALMOST to the point of not panicking.
Almost.
I do have to admit--I "bailed on Saturday. All of it. All of Saturday. I bailed." This means that I didn't do soccer and I didn't go to the dress rehearsal at Raley Field for dance on Saturday and we didn't go out. Mate took the kids and then brought me dinner and I knocked one of the things off my list.
But only one.
So, tomorrow is Kermit Flail-- YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!! But tonight?
Still running!
but I can give you a little bit of family--the kind of thing that ONLY happens when you're concentrating on something really hard.
While I was focusing on an edit, Squish came over to the sliding glass door next to me and PROBABLY had the following conversation:
"Mom, I'm gonna let Gibbs out, okay? Mom, I let Gibbs out, but she's pooping in the rain, okay? Mom, I'm gonna go to bed--I'm leaving the door open until Gibbs come back inside, okay?"
And I probably said something like,
"Sure, yeah, okay, whatever."
And then she disappeared and Mate was like, "Why is the door open?"
And I was on my last nerve so I said, "I DON'T KNOW!!" And then I looked and realized that Gibbs was ready to come in, but the cat was sitting in her cat bed staring at Gibbs with judgment in her eyes and I was like, "Jesus, Gibbs, get over yourself, it's just the fucking cat!"
Mate was like, "What?"
"Fucking cat-- the door was open because FUCKING CAT but now Gibbs is inside and I can close it again."
"Oh. Okay. Fine. Why didn't you say so?"
And then, shortly after that, ZoomBoy was standing behind me, trying to get my attention.
"Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mommy. Mom. Mom--"
"WHAT?"
"Oh. I'm sorry. Goodnight."
"What? What did you need?"
"I was trying to wish you goodnight."
Me, feeling like the worst mother ever: "Goodnight, ZoomBoy... I love you..."
So anyway-- THAT'S what my house is like right now.
*headdesk*
Urgh.
Friday, February 1, 2019
Under water again...
So, WAY underwater this week. Like... *waves while drowning*
But tonight, as I was working, my friend's chat window pops up and I'm like, "Hey, I can talk to Rayna--"
And at that moment, in the dead silence of the house, Mate starts screaming "OW OW OW OW OW OW!!!"
I run down the hallway, dogs clattering at my heels, and he's sprawled in the middle of the bed.
"What--"
"I woke up and had a muscle cramp, and rolled over, and it went away."
So I start to massage it, with Geoffie giving me open mouth kisses, and the other dogs still barking because they're a little bit confused.
He fell back asleep again--but it was my only break for an hour.
Damn.
Excuse me while I go to bed and take a breath.
But tonight, as I was working, my friend's chat window pops up and I'm like, "Hey, I can talk to Rayna--"
And at that moment, in the dead silence of the house, Mate starts screaming "OW OW OW OW OW OW!!!"
I run down the hallway, dogs clattering at my heels, and he's sprawled in the middle of the bed.
"What--"
"I woke up and had a muscle cramp, and rolled over, and it went away."
So I start to massage it, with Geoffie giving me open mouth kisses, and the other dogs still barking because they're a little bit confused.
He fell back asleep again--but it was my only break for an hour.
Damn.
Excuse me while I go to bed and take a breath.