February 26, 2014
How has your day been? After the promise of the early spring sunshine and the daffodils, I have to confess that today has been ‘if it can go wrong, it will go wrong.’ I haven’t had the time to play on here that I would have liked. Today is one of those days that I would have like to crawl under the duvet and stay there. However on the plus side, my broken washing machine will be replaced on Saturday and my flights are booked for Rainbow Con.
As this is my last flight I thought I’d tell you what is coming out next from Sue’s world. Frankie & Al is due out on March 21st. After the emotional turmoil of Final Admission this is a cheeky story.
Dumped by his boyfriend, Frankie Mason goes out with the girls, gets totally trashed, and ends his night by falling in front of a taxi. He’s rescued by a man with beautiful green eyes who takes care of him until he’s put into an ambulance. Frankie curses himself as he realizes he doesn’t have the man’s phone number. Still in pain a few days later, he is dragged out to a club only to be saved by Green Eyes once more. This time, he isn’t letting the man go.
Unfortunately Frankie has to attend a team-building exercise, nicknamed Womb Weekend, organized by his company. Al is working so he doesn’t mind, until he discovers who the team leader is. Al has a lot of explaining to do!
I’m away to my bed in a moment, debating whether to invest in another netbook/laptop – we have been through so many – or just to give up and get a desktop PC. What do you prefer?
February 26, 2014
I have to admit that I have a love/hate relationship with earphones. I love the idea of them but they hurt my ears no matter how expensive they are. Also my kids steal them. EVERY SINGLE PAIR. I like headphones if I’m sitting at the computer. My son has a purple pair that I always use but he won’t let me walk down the street wearing them. Meanie.
Do any of you use audiobooks? I know very little about them because I rarely listen to anything whilst I’m out and about, but I know some of my friends are addicted to them, with their favourite readers. It’s like they have fallen in love with books all over again and I really ought to find a pair of headphones that fit me so that I can feel that love.
Leave a comment on this post to enter the draw for a copy of either Morning Report or The Isle… of Where? on Audible.
February 26, 2014
Good Morning from sunny London!
For those of you suffering from yet another bout of snow. ice, rain, wind etc, I feel very sorry for you. Today is glorious. Spring has sprung. Here’s a daffodil to prove it.
Okay, I will stop rubbing your nose in it and move on swiftly. Today I’m offering not one, but two giveaways. Firstly for my brand new release today, Final Admission and secondly for a new audio book, Morning Report. So lets kick off with Final Admission. Leave a comment here to enter the draw for this book.
YAY WELCOME (AGAIN) to the world of a very special book for me, Final Admission.
If it hadn’t been for Lynn West at Dreamspinner this book would never have seen the light of day again and I owe her a huge thanks.
When Ethan Williams lands a job at Bingwell, Brock and Bacon, he realizes his coworkers aren’t exaggerating about James Trenchard. He really is a dick. But after Ethan is forced to work closely with James, he realizes there’s more to the lawyer than meets the eye.
Vibrant Ethan is a desperate reason to live again as James endures silent guilt and abuse from his husband after an accident. He calls Ethan for help after a beating, and stolen moments soon become the norm, but they can’t hide forever.
Ethan’s coworkers think he got his promotion because James is sweet on him, James is still being beaten despite his family’s concern, and the situation is swiftly becoming intolerable. Ethan and James need to find a way out of the cycle that’s hurting them both before their brand new love suffers as well.
I ought to add a warning – this book deals with domestic abuse.
“TRENCHARD IS a dick. Unless you’re a chick. Then he’s the only one with a dick. The rest of us might as well not exist.”
There was a rumble of agreement at Vince Line’s vehement rhyming declaration.
Not having a clue who Vince was talking about, the new boy at the advertising agency, Ethan Williams, looked around at the other account executives, all nodding and muttering into their coffee cups. Janice, the only woman among the execs, had a small secretive smile curving her lips, giving Ethan the impression she knew a lot more than she was giving away.
“Do you remember last year with Antonia from the third floor?” Vince’s fingers curled around the handle of his mug so tightly Ethan feared for the china.
“Heck yes,” Paul chimed in. “He was all over her the second he walked in the building.”
“And she went out to dinner with him.” Vince’s tone was bitter. “When I asked her to go out for a drink, she laughed at me. Then Trenchard raised his eyebrow and she was dropping her panties before you could say ‘slut.’”
Paul shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s James Trenchard, Vince. If he asked you out, you’d be dropping your panties even faster.”
Ethan waited for Vince to explode. He was, as far as Ethan was aware, a full-on heterosexual male, albeit an arrogant douche who had women running for the hills.
Instead, Vince bit his fingernail before saying, “Nah, probably not.”
“Who is this dude?” Ethan asked, totally confused.
Vince gave him a look. “He’s James Trenchard.”
As if that was supposed to explain everything. By the way they were all nodding, maybe it did.
By the way they were all saying “James Trenchard,” Ethan wasn’t sure what he was expecting: the messiah, perhaps? He certainly wasn’t expecting the second coming to be the lead attorney for Brock, Bingwell & Bacon, the marketing agency in downtown Seattle where Ethan had just been hired as an account executive.
They were congregating in the coffee room on the second floor before they went to the monthly meeting with the accounts managers and project managers. According to his coworkers this meeting was dreaded by everyone as the senior management team picked over each account. Today had the added hassle of James Trenchard, the lawyer on retainer, attending the meeting.
As the lawyer and Ethan’s boss greeted each other, Ethan stared at him, trying to see the attraction. Sure, he was good-looking, almost beautiful even, for a guy in his midthirties, with sleek light brown hair that curled over his collar and ice-blue eyes framed by long lashes. Those lips wouldn’t look out of place on a woman except, for some reason, on Trenchard they didn’t look effeminate. He was wearing a charcoal-gray pinstripe suit, with a plum-colored shirt and tie. Ethan noticed how well the suit pants showed off his ass. Trenchard wasn’t that bad—he seemed friendly—but not enough to warrant the status of messiah or dick.
Right up until Trenchard let the door bang behind him. Right into Ethan’s face.
“Told you so,” whispered Vince.
The guy was a dick, no doubt about it. Not a word of apology for almost rearranging Ethan’s face, and then he’d ignored them all as they used the elevator to the tenth floor. Ethan stared at the lawyer’s back with dislike, his lip curling as James Trenchard openly flirted with Ethan’s boss, Ms. Cauldwell. It was sickening the way his hand rested on her lower back. What was worse, Ethan’s “lay one finger on me and I’ll break your balls” boss was positively blooming under his sleazy charm. She had just giggled,giggled, at something he said.
But as the sleazebag showed Ethan’s boss into the large, airy conference room, he looked over his shoulder to the group following them, Ethan included.
“Your boys get prettier every year, Lulu,” Trenchard said conversationally. “Especially that large one.”
The large one, of course, had to be Ethan, standing clear of most of the men by at least half a foot. And he wasn’t fucking pretty. Especially not with a door imprinted on his face. Unimpressed at being reduced to the level of a thirteen-year-old girl, Ethan rolled his eyes at Vince and Paul.
He noticed Ms. Cauldwell hadn’t even bothered to look at her team. “You batting for the other side this year, James?”
“I bat for everyone,” Trenchard said and showed his perfect white teeth. Ethan imagined Trenchard sinking them into Ethan’s shoulder, even as he sank his cock into Ethan’s body.
Ms. Cauldwell snorted. “I bet you do. Well, my guys are pretty and clever, so don’t you forget it. Don’t make the mistake of thinking they are just for show.”
Trenchard’s eyes swept appreciatively over the small group of men and Janice, his gaze lingering on Ethan’s face. “Oh, I won’t underestimate them, Lulu. I definitely won’t.” And didn’t Ethan just know Trenchard was talking to him.
Ethan wanted to punch him in the face.
“I don’t think your large boy likes me very much,” James said to Ms. Cauldwell as they sat down.
“Mr. Williams has good instincts,” Ms. Cauldwell said. Ethan resisted the urge to preen a little.
“I’m sure he does,” the lawyer drawled.
The rest of them spread around the table. Ethan didn’t know how it had happened, but somehow he ended up on the opposite side of the table from the lawyer. His temper rising, Ethan avoided looking at his smug face; instead, his gaze fell on Trenchard’s hand as it wrapped around a fountain pen. Long fingers tipped with well-manicured nails—strong hands. Ethan wondered what they’d look like around Ethan’s dick. Cheeks heating, Ethan looked up hastily and caught Trenchard smirking at him. Ethan had the sinking feeling he knew exactly what Ethan had been thinking.
“Put him down, James.” Ms. Cauldwell sounded more resigned than angry as she tapped her fingers on the desk impatiently.
Trenchard sat back in his chair. “I haven’t touched him, Lulu.”
“He’s off-limits. Mr. Williams, if you could actually concentrate on our meeting?” Her tone made it clear it wasn’t a question.
His cheeks even hotter, Ethan muttered his apologies. He could feel the amused stares of all his colleagues except for the annoyance rolling off Vince. Ethan looked up to see Trenchard still gazing at him as if he was a succulent piece of hog roast.
Ethan was grateful when the monthly meeting actually started and the attention was diverted away from him. As the meeting progressed, he was unwillingly impressed. Trenchard knew his business. Nothing got past him as he went through each account and their current advertising campaigns. Everyone was expected to contribute, even junior staff as part of their training, but thankfully Ethan managed to acquit himself adequately when it came to his turn, answering the few questions Trenchard aimed in his direction. Some of his colleagues didn’t fare so well. Ethan winced as Vince and his project manager were shredded for a copyright mistake that had cost the agency thousands of dollars in a lawsuit.
By the time the end of the meeting arrived, he was more relaxed and able to handle himself. That complacent feeling lasted until a warm foot traveled up his calf. From the angle of the foot, it could only be Trenchard. Ethan was pinned like a butterfly on a board as the silk-clad foot moved until it was resting between his legs.
Trenchard was in the middle of a detailed discussion on why they were going to get screwed by Disney if they used “The Circle of Life” in their advertising copy, and his foot was in a detailed exploration of Ethan’s groin. Unable to move, unable to say anything, Ethan bit his lip as his traitorous cock sat up and begged for attention. He couldn’t even shove the foot off without drawing attention to himself. There was absolutely nothing he could do as slowly, inexorably, he was drawn closer to climax. Just as his balls drew up tight, screaming for their release, the foot was gone.
In shock at his denied orgasm, Ethan watched in horror as the lawyer pushed his chair back and stood up.
“I think we’re done for the day, Lulu. Good work, everyone.” Trenchard gave a professional smile as he looked around the room, not resting on Ethan any longer than the others.
Ms. Cauldwell nodded. “There is lunch in the room adjacent to this one, gentlemen. I’m sure the sandwiches aren’t too stale.”
Everyone started pushing their chairs back except Ethan. He clutched his pen so tight it was in danger of snapping. He was so close to coming, a puff of wind could set him off.
“Mr. Williams, are you coming?” Ms. Cauldwell asked.
Very likely, he thought desperately as he gave her a wild-eyed “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll leave you to collect the files and then you can join us for lunch,” she suggested as she pushed her chair back, not giving a hint that she knew of his predicament.
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated, not moving a muscle. Trenchard, the bastard, hadn’t even looked at him since he got up.
Paul gave him a puzzled look but obediently handed over his file, the others following suit.
Angry as fuck, Ethan was left alone in the conference room. He stared at the pile of files in front of him while he willed his erection to subside. He wanted to get his cock out and jack off. Get it over and done with. Only he couldn’t do that, so he had to wait until his boner had gone down enough for him to walk without a limp. He’d be lucky if there was any food left by the time he got there. Ethan ground his teeth together.
By the time he was able to show himself in public and walk into the boardroom, his prediction was accurate. The food platters were empty and all that was left was a few pieces of limp watercress. Ethan groaned inwardly. It would be late evening before he had a chance to eat again.
Someone thrust a plate into his hand. Not expecting it, Ethan dropped the files. The plate of sandwiches miraculously stayed intact. The room was silent for a moment, then everyone burst out laughing.
“Dear me, Lulu, you really picked a good one this time.” Ethan could hear Trenchard’s mocking tone over the laughter.
Ethan sank to his knees to pick up the files, putting a sandwich in his mouth just in case they got taken away. He was immediately joined by Paul, reaching out for one that slipped farther away.
“I’m so sorry, Ethan.”
“I saved you some food. I should have waited until you’d put the files down.”
“So you should, Mr. Vicini. It seems Mr. Williams can’t manage two things at once. Multi-tasking is obviously not one of his skills.”
Ethan looked up to see Trenchard standing over him, that mocking smile still on his handsome face. Glaring at the lawyer, he got to his feet, files in hand.
Throwing caution to the wind, Ethan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I am perfectly capable of managing two things at once, Mr. Trenchard, just as you seem to be. It’s such a shame that you’ll never find out.” He took satisfaction in the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed the lawyer’s face.
His boss was watching them from the sidelines, a peculiarly satisfied expression on her face.
“I think I’ll take the files back to the office, Ms. Cauldwell,” he informed her, not really caring if this was against protocol.
She nodded, that odd look still on her face. “Good idea, Mr. Williams.”
He took another sandwich from the plate Paul was holding—he was hungry after all—and left the room, a shred of his dignity still intact.
As he left he heard his boss say quietly, “One for my team this year, I think.”
James gave a short laugh. “Not on your life, Lulu. This is just the opening salvo. Williams is just a kid. He could never stand to play with the big boys.” And didn’t Ethan just hear the emphasis.
Ethan was a short hop from dropping the files and walking back in to plant his fist in James’s face.
“Honestly, Lulu, you’re going to have to up your game if you think you’re going to beat me.”
“James, one day you might just get what’s coming to you.”
“Never gonna happen.”
Humiliated and furious, Ethan stabbed the elevator button. The guy was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Who the fuck did he think he was? If Ethan hadn’t needed his job so much, he might have called his bluff. Except he wouldn’t have, because God, that foot had felt good on his cock.
Yes, Mr. Trenchard, you are a total dick.
February 18, 2014
Okay, Guess who???
I’m here with the last excerpt and question. Good luck everyone. Remember, don’t posts your answers any earlier then two o’clock, EST. I’ll see you at the cocktail hour with a drink and three winners in hand. For you not familiar with cocktail hour, that’s 5pm EST. This so exciting!!!!
Hank was standing over the stove with a wooden spoon in each hand as the sound of Norah Jones wafted through the house. He was swaying and humming along to Norah’s sultry version of the “Tennessee Waltz” while stirring a pot of yellow cheese grits with one spoon and a sauté pan of jumbo shrimp and Andouille sausage with the other. A thought suddenly hit him, and he turned his head to one side, deciding what to do about it.
He lowered the flame on both burners, picked up his cell phone, and opened his contacts, choosing the contact he’d programmed earlier that day for Garner. While the call connected and started to ring, Hank found himself swaying again to Norah’s soulful sounds.
He stopped when he heard Garner’s voice. “Hey, Hank.” Garner had obviously checked the caller ID before he answered.
“Hey, man, how’s it going?”
“Pretty good. Thompson and I just finished checking in the last arrival, and I’m about to head down to the boat to unwind for a second and then shower.”
Hank felt a wave of panic and looked down at his watch. Six forty-nine. He went over his mental checklist. He still had to finish dinner, set the table, shower, and pick up Garner, and he had just over an hour in which to do it all.
“Yeah, I’m here. Boy, do I need to get a move on, though. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t allergic to shellfish or see if there was anything else I should know about your diet.”
“Nope. No food allergies that I’m aware of.”
“Okay, good. Gotta go! See you at eight.”
“Okay,” Garner said with a chuckle.
Hank ended the call and went back to the stove. He dipped his spoon into the simmering grits and brought the cheesy mixture to his mouth. “Ummmm, perfect. One down.”
He turned off the burner, covered the pot, and turned his attention to the shrimp and sausage mixture.
As he pushed the shrimp and sausage around in the pan, listening to Norah sing “I Think It’s Going to Rain Today,” he thought about Thompson for some reason. Garner mentioning his name on the phone triggered a couple of memories that had stuck with him all day and he wasn’t sure why. For starters, he’d stopped by the marina midmorning with some bagels for Garner and Thompson. When he’d found the office empty, he’d approached the large window and found them coming up the dock, Thompson’s arm slung over Garner’s shoulder and both of them laughing hysterically. The scene had struck him as odd because ever since Caroline’s death, Thompson had been very reserved and mostly closed off. In fact, Hank hadn’t seen him crack more than a smile for as long as he could remember. But then they’d stopped laughing suddenly, and it looked as though the mood or conversation had taken on a more serious tone. They had continued up the dock looking like each of them had more to say, and, not wanting to get in the middle of anything, Hank had slipped out unnoticed.
Then when he’d come back to the marina on that call, it looked like they were into something heavy again, so not wanting to interrupt this time either, he’d said hello, but chose not to stop and headed right for his boat. But as he was on the water leaving the marina, he saw Thompson throw his arms around Garner, saw Garner make some move to get free, then Thompson’s arm was around Garner’s neck, and they were walking up the dock laughing again. I wonder what is going on with those two? Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Holy shit! Am I jealous?
Hank realized that he really liked spending time with Garner. He didn’t know where it was headed, but he liked him enough to go along for the ride. He hadn’t felt any type of connection to anyone in such a long time, and he was damned excited about it. Garner was smart, good-looking, sexy as hell, and had a wicked sense of humor. All the traits he liked in a man. Some of the excitement waned a bit with his next thought. Six weeks, Hank! He’s only here for six weeks. Be careful and don’t go getting your heart broken.
The sizzling sound of the food brought him back to reality, and he decided to push the thoughts to the back of his mind for now. Besides, he could ask Garner what was going on between him and Thompson tonight.
Hank tasted one of the shrimp. “Just about done,” he said under his breath. “I think I’ll let them marinate for a while and finish them off right before I serve them.”
He turned off the gas burner, moved about the kitchen getting dishes, silverware, and placemats together, and headed for the dining room. “That Yankee isn’t going to think twice about Thompson Gray when he gets a taste of my famous Southern Shrimp & Grits. A way to a man’s heart through his stomach and all that.”
When the table was set, he stood back and admired his work. He glanced at his watch again. Forty minutes to go. Not bad, Hank. Not bad at all.
Garner was standing outside the marina entrance when he saw the white F150 round the corner. He waved as the truck pulled up and stopped. The power window came down and the driver leaned out. “Hellooo, sailor! Looking for a ride?”
“If you’re going my way,” Garner retorted.
Hank grinned and winked. “Oh yeah, I go your way.”
Hank put the truck in park, hopped out, and stole a quick kiss on Garner’s cheek.
“Thanks,” Garner said. “You look great, by the way.”
Hank was wearing a nicely pressed blue chambray shirt over a bright-orange T-shirt, khakis, and brown driving shoes.
“Thanks. You too.”
Garner felt underdressed in his amber-colored V-neck T-shirt, blue jeans, and blue-and-gold Nikes. He ran his hands down the front of his shirt. “This old thing?”
Hank laughed and opened the door. “Yes, that old thing. I like the way it brings out the blond in your hair. Now get in there, silly.”
Garner watched Hank run back around, jump in, and buckle his seatbelt. He moved with a confident grace and Garner liked it.
As the truck sped up, Hank leaned over and patted Garner’s thigh. “How was the rest of your day? When I came back from my call, Thompson said you were out.”
“Yeah, he asked me to run a marina guest up to West Marine to pick up a replacement bilge pump.”
“God, I love that store,” Hank said. “If I ever sold my business, I would really like to work there. The only problem I can foresee is I’d buy so much shit, I’d owe them money at the end of every pay period.”
Garner nodded in agreement. “Me too. I’m afraid I’d be right there with you.”
The short ride back to Hank’s place was filled with the usual back-and-forth banter they’d become accustomed to in the short time they’d known one another.
In less than ten minutes, Hank pulled into the driveway of a beige bungalow-style home boasting a white wraparound porch with a swing, white wicker furniture, and green-and-white striped upholstery. Dark-green shutters and a pale-yellow door finished off the exterior. Garner thought it looked like something out of a magazine. The landscaping was perfectly manicured and the outdoor lighting was spot on. There was soft lamplight coming from all the windows, and the entire place looked warm and inviting.
“This is absolutely charming,” Garner said, taking it all in.
Hank put the truck in park, rested both hands on the steering wheel, and stared at his house as if he was seeing it for the first time himself. “Thanks, I’ve owned it for about a year and just finished renovating the entire thing.”
Garner opened his door. “Come on, I can’t wait to see the inside.”
Hank hopped out of the truck, apparently as eager to show off his place as Garner was to see it. They walked into a spacious foyer with at least twelve-foot ceilings. There was a round leather-inlaid drum table in the center with a bouquet of fresh flowers and a secretary with a Chippendale chair against the back wall. A powder room was recessed in the back right corner. Garner turned to the left and saw a formal dining room, complete with romantic table set for two. He stepped into the room, admiring one thing to the next. He stopped when he saw a large antique cupboard in the far corner loaded with some type of porcelain. “Everything is lovely, but this piece is spectacular.”
“Thanks. It was my grandmommy Ellen’s, right down to the very last piece of porcelain inside of it. It’s one of my two prized possessions.”
“And the other?” Garner asked.
Hank’s very being seemed to be filling with pride as he took Garner by the hand and led him across the foyer to the formal living room.
“And this is the formal living room,” he said with the wave of his hand.
Garner followed in awe, certain his mouth was hanging open from the sheer beauty surrounding him. There was a royal-blue tone-on-tone striped camelback couch sitting in the center of the room with two tapestry-upholstered Martha Washington chairs flanking a large fireplace. End tables and other accent pieces effortlessly placed here and there donned the room and created a comfortable but elegant feel. There was a hall at the far right, which Garner assumed led to the bedrooms, and closed double french doors across the back wall. But before he could ask where they led, he spotted a triple mahogany chest of drawers with shiny brass pulls against the back wall. “That’s got to be the other piece.”
“Bingo,” Hank said. “You have a great eye.”
He ran his fingers across the top of the long chest, admiring it. “I don’t know about that, but it’s hard to miss this example of fine craftsmans—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Hank’s lips were covering his. It was a long, deep, and slow kiss. Hank’s tongue explored every crevice of his mouth, and when it ended, it left Garner breathless and wanting more.
Hank brushed the side of Garner’s face with the back of his hand. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you early this morning.”
Garner smiled at the compliment. Then something didn’t sit right with that statement. He thought for a second. This morning? I didn’t see him until this afternoon. “You mean this afternoon?” Garner corrected.
“Nope. This morning,” Hank restated with a nonchalant tone.
Suddenly, memories of an earlier time back in New York when he’d had an overzealous admirer that had turned into amateur stalking flooded Garner’s memory. Stop it, Garner. He doesn’t appear to be the stalker type. And besides, if he were really stalking you, would he tell you about it? He pushed those ridiculous thoughts out of his mind, but he must have still had a concerned look on his face that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain over dinner,” Hank volunteered.
Garner opened his mouth to protest, but Hank held up a finger. “It’s really nothing. I promise.”
Question: What color was the camelback couch in Hank’s living room?
February 18, 2014
My name is Scotty Cade and I’m looking so forward to chatting with you today. I’d like to introduce you to my latest novel, “Sunrise Over Savannah,” which released yesterday over at Dreamspinner Press. Here’s a link if you want to take a quick look. http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4716.
This book is very near and dear to my heart and was inspired by a real life person named Thompson and an event that happened at a marina where Thompson worked in Savannah GA. Here’s the Reader’s Digest version:
On one of our many October trips down south on our boat, my husband and I, traveling with our best friends stopped in Savannah GA for an overnight stay. The deck hand who greeted and docked us was one of those young, gorgeous, friendly, and charismatic guys you stumble onto every once in a while. He had shoulder length blonde hair, emerald green eyes and a smile that might, if bottled up, finally achieve world peace. Although we had just met him, we were all instantly drawn to him and knew he was the type that you and everyone else wanted to hang out with. He was just that amazing. As I mentioned, his name was Thompson and the best thing about him was that he seemed oblivious to his charm and good looks or the affect he had on the people around him. Now imagine four homosexuals on a boat, Kell and I in our mid fifties and our friends in their mid seventies all making conversation and batting our eyelashes at this kid. He didn’t blink an eye, just smiled and chatted us up for over an hour. I knew immediately that I wanted to write a book about him, the only issue was the plot line.
Much to my surprise, it didn’t take very long for that to present itself either. The next morning just before sunrise. I was awake early, as we were leaving at first light for our next day on the water, and I always checked my charts and the weather, you know, all the nervous nell stuff boat captains do. So I was on the fly bridge of our boat listening to the marine weather loop sipping my coffee and saw a man standing on the edge of the dock holding his own cup of coffee watching the sun peak over the horizon. For most of the time, all I could see was his back and even with my limited view, I recognized his well, defeated stance . His shoulders were slumped and his head was tilted to one side. It wasn’t until he turned and made his way past our boat that I really saw the solum and forlorn expression he was wearing. The sight took my breath away and haunted me for a long timer. The whole thing left me feeling empty and yearning for answers. I asked around a little, not wanting to pry and no one knew the guy or had even seen him, so I never got the answers I sought. But the image of him on that dock watching the sunrise??? It stayed with me and still today, it is as clear as if it happened yesterday. And for anyone who knows me, if something like this stays with me, it will surely end up a novel or at the very least, in a novel of mine. Weighing heavy on my mind, the story unfolded rather quickly, practically wrote itself and I’m very proud of it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much to my dismay, when we stopped at the same marina on our latest trip, he was no longer working there, apparently chasing an acting career. Go Thompson! See you in Hollywood!
So with all that said, today I will be giving away three copies of Sunrise Over Savannah eBooks and here’s how I’m gonna do it. Over the course of the morning, I will post three excerpts from the story. At the end of each excerpt, I will ask a question related to that particular excerpt. Starting at two o’clock this afternoon, you can posts your answers and everyone who answers all three questions correctly will be entered in the drawing. At five o’clock I will posts the correct answers and announce the winners.
You’ll need to check in multiple times because you have to get all three answers correct to be entered into the drawing.
February 15, 2014
I drew out a name from the hat and Trix was the lucky one! :D Congratulations!
I will have DSP staff add my book in your shelf. Hope you like it as much as you have expected
Others – You get another chance on the 15th! Because I will be on DSP’s FB page for an hour to do a live chat there. And there will be a giveaway included Be there between 12-2 hours EST (9-11 hours PST) and find Cardeno C. having a chat in the first hour and I will be in the next… Hope you decide to stop by.
Here’s the event link – https://www.facebook.com/events/620815741305949/
With this post, I bid adieu! It was fun chatting with you guys
February 14, 2014
(This post was originally posted on Sue Brown‘s website)
Bradley Parker – The boy who forgot
The first ever date Brad went to was with a guy named Aaron Mackenzie and it was way back in high school. Aaron was in his Biology class and he always sat at the back, quiet and shy, aloof from most of their classmates. But while the class went on, Brad always felt those gray eyes fixated on him.
One day, though, a big change occurred. That day Aaron entered the class, scanned the seats and approached the spot where Brad was. “Is this seat taken?” He asked, sounding out of breath. Brad wasn’t the shortest one in the class but Aaron looked like a giant in front of him. That and his dashing looks always left him intimidated. So, when Aaron asked him that question, all he could do was swallow down his growing nervousness and shake his head – he may have done it a bit too vigorously but who could blame the guy after all?
During the class, a note fell on his side of the desk and he still remembered what the scribbled words said – ‘If you are free this Friday Night, I would like to take you out to dinner. Please say yes, or I might just die!’
He did say yes and they didn’t just spent that Friday night with each other but the whole weekend. It was 11th November, 2006 and they went to dine at a fancy restaurant called “The Nomad”. Aaron belonged to a well to-do family so he paid the bill and they went to his place after. Nothing happened between them that night, though, not more than a kiss. And it never did. Brad never felt that connection with Aaron even when things seemed to be perfect! Aaron was such a gentleman but Brad kept seeing the flaws in him more than the pros of being with him…
So the excitement of first dating experience was sure to fade out.
What didn’t fade out though were the memories. They remained with Brad even after six years. He remembered everything, including the argument he had that night with his best friend Leslie on what to wear.
Then why was it that he couldn’t remember the most beautiful night of his life? The night when he met the man of his dreams, the one who made him go weak in the knees, the man who managed to break through his shell without even trying, the sex-God who took his virginity that night. Finding him on the Valentine’s Day was a true blessing for Brad.
But forgetting him the next day was a curse!
Find out what exactly happened in Bradley Parker’s life in Holding on to Hope.
February 14, 2014
I am sending my hunky waiters around to serve you all some drinks Please enjoy while I share an excerpt from my book – Holding on to Hope.
Leslie felt eyes on her, and she looked across their table. A pair of freakishly blue eyes stared in their direction. They belonged to a man, a bit older in age—probably in his fifties, she guessed—with long gray hair. His face was round and wrinkled, making him look very ugly. He wore a black trench coat over a white shirt and a striped tie. Leslie noticed the big rings on his finger and deduced that he must be some wealthy man. However, his stare was making him appear scary.
When he realized he was caught in the act, his lips curved into a cold smile.
She quickly looked away and tried to concentrate on what her boyfriend was saying. However, Leslie kept getting the weirdest feeling that nothing around her was safe anymore. The worrisome thoughts kept her occupied. An unmistakable panic was slowly settling in.
All because of an old man who was probably innocently looking at the college kids as they sat right across from him and reminiscing about his past!
Leslie shivered. “Guys,” her voice wavered. “I’ll be right back.”
Thankfully, none of the boys noticed the change in her tone, and she quickly made her way to the ladies room. Once she was in, the first thing she did was empty her bladder.
Somehow, the old man had freaked her out so much that she felt the need to pee. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly that triggered such emotions in her. This had never happened to her before.
She splashed some cold water on her face, fixed her makeup once again, and exhaled, feeling a lot better than before. Hoping that the old man was gone, she slowly stepped out.
Her heart felt lighter when she saw his seat was empty, and the smile then came easy to her. At that moment, she even wanted to laugh at herself for having a stupid panic attack.
After all, he was a harmless old man.
She found her boyfriend standing by the counter, buying another coffee for himself. She walked over to him. “I thought you promised me that you’d cut down on your caffeine consumption for a day.” Leslie narrowed her eyes. He looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights and smiled very cutely.
“I told you too much coffee isn’t good for my Patty-pie’s health.”
“I promise this is the last one,” he said and leaned down to kiss her. He obviously wasn’t going to keep his promise. But she let it slip. Pushing the matter wasn’t going to help. Leslie believed that Patrick needed to decide to stop on his own.
However, she couldn’t help but worry too.
When he broke the kiss, she shook her head, giggling slightly, and looked in the direction of their booth. “Where’s Brad?”
Patrick turned to look. “I don’t know. He was sitting right there before you came back out.” They trailed back in the direction of their booth. “Maybe he went to the restroom.”
“Couldn’t have happened.” Leslie shook her head. “Or else I would have seen him when I came out.”
“I don’t understand.” Patrick gazed at her. “He was right here a minute ago, talking to the old dude, and I went to get….”
“Old dude?” Leslie’s heart skipped a beat. “Who?”
“I don’t know who he was, but I guess he was sitting in this booth.” He pointed to the space where the scary old man had once been. “He came over to Brad and was like, ‘Can I talk to you in private?’ So I just left the booth for them to talk.”
“Pat!” Her blood was running cold by then. “How could you leave him alone with a stranger?”
“Baby, overreact much?” Patrick looked around, and Leslie realized that everyone was looking in their direction. “Brad is not a little child.”
“Hey, what’s the matter?” Ian’s voice interrupted them, and Pat tightened his jaw.
Leslie tried to calm herself down before replying. “Brad is… I don’t know… he went somewhere. It’s probably nothing, but Pat says he was talking to this old man before and….”
“Shit, no!” Ian yelled. “Old man? What did he look like?”
There was panic in his eyes, and his voice and fright suddenly found a home in Leslie’s system. “Freakishly blue eyes, wrinkled face, Rings on his fingers.”
“Long gray hair?” Ian asked anxiously.
“Yes!” Leslie was certain something pretty awful had happened to Brad, and she couldn’t stop cursing herself for lack of better judgment. “Ian, do you know something?”
His lip quivered. “I do.” He stepped closer and looked between the two of them. “Brad is in big trouble right now, and there’s only one person who can get him out of it.”
February 14, 2014
I am Sid Love – the author of newly released DSP Book titled – “Holding on to Hope” and today I am here to celebrate this special moment of my life. After all, my dream of becoming a published author has finally come true!
What am I planning on doing here?
To spend some time with you guys and have a blast!
Let’s start, why don’t we have some music on, eh? Here’s my pick of song – “Applause” by Lady Gaga! I have bribed the DJ and he will be taking requests from all of you, so don’t be shy and let us know what song you think would set the party mood.
And since, it’s Valentine’s Day, it definitely calls for a double celebration. I love this day so much because I believe in it strongly So does my main character Bradley Parker and that belief strengthens when he meets his Mr. Right on the Valentine’s Day -
Bradley Parker has waited twenty years for Mr. Right, and on Valentine’s Day, he finally finds him. It’s love at first sight, and Brad even loses his virginity to the man of his dreams. But when he wakes up the next morning unable to remember anything—even what the man looked like—his best friend, Leslie, is convinced he imagined the whole thing. Brad knows he didn’t make up the best night of his life, but he has no idea of the danger he’s putting himself in as he struggles to recall the details of his perfect man. His search may lead him to parts of New York City he never dreamed existed and a war being waged in the shadows.
If you wish to ask me anything about me or the book or anything in general, please feel free to post your question in the comments below. I will try and make sure that it is answered.
Also, I will be giving away an e-copy of my book. Every commenter to my posts gets entered into the contest automatically so don’t forget to leave a comment!
February 1, 2014
Purple symbolize enchantment, mystery, magic.
This is Ashavan Doyon and we’re winding down our study of the Valentine Rainbow — particularly The Colors of Romance!
Does TruClrs4vr find the enchantment of romance? Does Theo finally give in to mystery and his #mysteryman? I hope I wrote a story that could help anyone realize the romance in Valentine’s Day. I put a lot of effort into finding romance in the colors of the rainbow, but we can find, or choose to find, romance anywhere. Which is good for me, since I love writing those stories. I hope you enjoyed all the different colors of romance.
For the observant, I’ve given away a little with each post, giving you a hint of the revelation TruClrs4vr does each day… a slice of himself, using the picture that was my inspiration for the story. I hope you enjoyed our chats, and I hope that everyone can bring a little of purple’s magic to their Valentine’s Day plans.
To give a hand, I have a little magic for Susan… you’re the winner of the free ebook copy of The Colors of Romance. Susan, please email me at email@example.com and we’ll get you hooked up with a free copy on your Dreamspinner Press bookshelf. I just need to know what email address you use to log in at the store so they can associate a copy with your account.
I’ll be here until 10 to chat! Have a wonderful evening. And if you didn’t win — The Colors of Romance is available now at the Dreamspinner Press store here:
I love to keep in touch with readers:
I’ll leave you with an excerpt from The Colors of Romance:
“COME ON, it’s Valentine’s Day!” Jeremy said.
Theo looked at him with a stare that would make a bear flee from honey. “You’re supposed to want it to be all romantic,” Theo said. “Just the two of you, alone.”
Jeremy sighed. “That is what I want,” he grumbled. “Listen, Theo, Jaz, she has a friend—”
“You haven’t heard what I’m going to say yet!”
“I heard enough,” Theo said. “The answer is still no.”
“What? I’m not changing my mind,” Theo said. He glared at Jeremy. “You should know better than to even ask.”
“So, what, you’re going to be miserable and alone and celebrate Single Person Awareness Day or something?” asked Jeremy.
“Something like that, yeah,” Theo growled, turning and walking away.
“I’m going to ask again tomorrow!” shouted Jeremy after him. “And the day after that, and the day after that, until I get a fucking yes, Theo!”
Theo ignored Jeremy’s shouts as he left the café. He wouldn’t feel guilty. Not now. Not over that. Just the mention of Valentine’s Day had him on edge.
The streets were quiet and the walkways back to the college icy. Theo spent the walk back to campus with his eyes on the sidewalk, his arms crossed over his chest. The cold was bitter, and the wind wasn’t helping. Theo sighed and watched the icy frost of his breath float away. He stopped for a moment. What was Jeremy thinking?
He wasn’t. Which meant it was a suggestion from Jasmine. Sure, she didn’t know any better, but Jeremy…. Theo shook his head. Jeremy wasn’t thinking with his head. Well, not with the right head, at least. And Theo was sure Jeremy would far rather have a romantic dinner with Jasmine alone than be caught in the awkwardness between Theo and a man who didn’t and couldn’t know what Valentine’s Day meant to him.
Theo sighed and started walking. He felt the buzz in his pocket and ignored it. In this cold he wouldn’t be able to use the touch screen anyway, even if he was willing to freeze his fingers by taking them out of the gloves. This late on a weekend, the parties on frat row had already started. Even in the bitterness of winter, the students had spilled out of the houses. The semester was still new. No one was really behind on their work, not yet.
When Theo reached the dorms, he couldn’t help but think how quiet they were. Everyone was out partying. Theo could’ve been. Jeremy was the sort of roommate who always made sure Theo was included, even if he was the odd man out. Theo reached the room, shed his heavy layers, and sat on his bed. He should get back up and go out. He even knew it. But that wasn’t what he was going to do. Instead he leaned back against the wall and typed idly on his phone.
February. A month for lovers. For romance. And all I feel is loneliness. #feelingsorryformyself #romancefail
Theo would pay for the words later. He’d get a call from his mom and his older brother. That and Jeremy would use it to try to convince him to go out on Valentine’s Day. Sure Jeremy should know better, but it wasn’t like Theo actually ever talked about his hatred of the day. And he was lonely.
Theo sighed, tossed his phone aside, and picked up the book for his lit class. If he was going to be depressed anyway, now was the time to read it. With a reading list full of dystopias, it was a foregone conclusion that it wasn’t going to be cheery reading.
He kicked off his shoes, leaned against the mountain of pillows he kept on the bed, and began to read.
Theo was deep into the assigned chapter when his phone buzzed. Figured Jeremy would respond already. Couldn’t he just let it rest? Theo closed the book on his finger so he wouldn’t lose his place and picked up the phone.
#romance must be made @Theo13820—have 2 wnt it 2 come.
Theo dropped his book and cursed as he flailed, trying to catch it before his place was lost, and groaned as the book hit the bed and closed.
“Goddamn it!” Theo grabbed the book and held it in a clenched fist. The phone buzzed again.
Wnt to show u @Theo13820. Wnt u 2 let me #romance u.
What if I don’t want it @TruClrs4vr
I’m a #romantic. My job. 2 be so enticing u can’t hlp urself. Let me @Theo13820. #sayyesplease
Who the hell was this? He should be reading, not trading messages with a mysterious no one. He looked at the book, then at the screen. He growled, picked up the phone, and quickly checked the username. But the user had no other contacts at all and appeared only to be following him at the moment.
Theo13820 PM to TruClrs4vr
who the fuck are you? And why are you following me?
TruClrs4vr PM to Theo13820
I’m interested. Wasn’t Jaz. Know u think that. Not Jer either. Asked ’em 2 ask u.
Because of the instant message formatting this took me longer to get formatted than I expected, so I’ll probably stick around for a little longer to chat and answer questions. Have a great night everyone, and if you have questions feel free to ask them here.