Saturday, December 20, 2014

Guess What? LM's Back!!!!

Influences

Aka: Am I a chicken?

Hello everyone.  First of all, thank you for having me here today to talk about the final book in my Heavenly Sins trilogy.  It has been a long time in coming, but it is finally available for those who want to read the conclusion of Tristan, Mac and Alastor’s story.

First of all, I have to warn that this blog post contains spoilers for the previous two books in the series.  I’m sorry, I do try to avoid putting spoilers in my blog posts, but for this book there is very little I can say about it that won’t reveal at least one spoiler.  It won’t reveal any major spoilers for the final instalment of the trilogy however.

One piece of advice writers are given is to write the story that you want to.  To write for yourself and not for the readers/market.  It is easier said than done.

When I was writing the final book of the Heavenly Sins series I came across a blog post on the well-known Jessewave site.  What I read there from the original blog writer and the readers who commented convinced me that the story I was writing had to be changed.  As a fairly new writer in the genre and one who does not have a following of fans, I couldn’t do anything else after I read that post.

Now, you may be wondering what it was that I had read that convinced me to take a scene from my story and re-write it totally.  It was a post about the role of women in MM and MMM fiction. 

It seems that there is no real role for women in the genre.  No matter where you put them in a story someone, somewhere, will complain.

If you put in an ex-girlfriend for one of the men then she has to be absolutely perfect.  The slightest hint that she is not 100% nice, then you get your book dumped in the category of the evil ex-girlfriend and the complaints start to come in.

Then there is the female friend of one of the men.  The character Summer in Forbidden Waters is one of those.  As a non-love interest or ex-girlfriend you would think she would be safe from criticism, but no.  She apparently annoyed one reviewer recently, which made me feel pretty bad since her personality is based largely on my own.  Nice to know I am that annoying. 

But the worst thing you can do – by far – seems to be to have any female in a MM or MMM book doing anything of a sexual nature.

In the first draft of Between Life & Death I was writing a scene which did that exact thing.  The original incubus and succubus play a part in the final book of this trilogy and in their first scene they do their best to test Tristan’s powers by using their own on him.  In fact they still do this, but their roles have been reversed to a certain extent. 

In the original draft the female succubus played a far more extensive role during their attempts to seduce Tristan.  The reason behind her taking the larger part in the scene was because they are well aware that Tristan is gay, and they want to know how powerful he is.

Is Tristan powerful enough to withstand a demonic seduction of a man who he finds attractive? 

Or is he so weak that a demoness can make him come, even when he does not find her sexually attractive?

Does he have the power to stay faithful to his lovers?

Or is he weak enough that he could be easily manipulated or overthrown from his precarious position in the Underworld?

My first instinct after reading the blog post about females in the genre was to remove the succubus entirely, not only from the scene, but also from the story.

It quickly became apparent this was not the best course of action.  The incubus and succubus are the two main demons of seduction in my series.  To have one without the other was not only impractical, it annoyed the hell out of me to alter my story to such an extent based on the opinions of readers who would probably never pick up any of my books anyway.

So I went back to that first scene and wrote Ardat Lili back in as a bystander.  It still didn’t work.   To ascertain the extent of Tristan’s powers it is essential that both the male and female demons have their turn at testing him. 

Finally I took the decision to write her back into the scene for the final version, albeit in a lesser role than she had played in the first draft of the scene.

I decided that despite the fact that it would annoy some readers – who probably won’t get past the first chapter of the final book – I would not completely re-write (and potentially ruin) the story I wanted to write, merely because of the opinions of those who only seem to be happy when they are criticising and picking fault with others.

Even so, I am still rather nervous about the reactions of even the most open-minded readers when they realise I have dared to include a half-naked female in the story.  If you are brave enough, there is a taste of the scene in question below.



Blurb
With one of his lovers imprisoned in the Underworld, Mac has no choice except to go where most angels fear to tread.
With Tristan imprisoned in the Underworld, the ménage is broken. Angels are forbidden to enter the demonic domain and while Mac has been breaking rules in recent months, he doesn’t have the power to enter the Underworld.
Alastor is still unsure about his position in the relationship following recent revelations, but he cannot walk away when he is the only real link between his two lovers. Splitting his time between Mac and Tristan, he hopes they can soon find a way to reunite the two men in his life.
As time moves on, Alastor realizes he is struggling to satisfy Tristan’s thirst for sex. His lover needs more than he can give him and craves Mac in his bed.
Mac still believes he can complete his mission to save his two lovers, but with one of them out of his reach, it is going to be far from easy.
During their time together they have made plenty of enemies, including one who would seek to separate them forever, even if it means biding his time until Alastor and Tristan are at their most vulnerable, when even the love of an angel can’t save them.
Excerpt

The two demons drew closer as Tristan watched them intently. Something about their movements set his pulse racing. The incubus wore a kilt which reached to his knees. Tristan could see his erection even from halfway across the room. The succubus was even more scantily dressed, her beaded skirt reaching her ankles, though covering very little. She wore a necklace which hung between her bare breasts and her arms were adorned with golden bands. Other than those ornaments, her upper body remained entirely naked. The two of them gracefully glided across the room and sank to their knees. Beneath his tunic, Tristan’s cock hardened in response to their presence.
“Talented, aren’t they?” Lucifer commented. “They can turn you on with only a glance.”
“Can you make them stop it?”
“Why would I want to do that? I find being in their company most pleasurable.”
“I find it quite inappropriate myself.”
“You’re a sex demon. Showing your virility is a good thing, especially since there are already rumors flying round the Underworld about your impotency.”
“I’m not impotent.”
“As everyone will see when they approach you,” Lucifer pointed out with a grin.
The two demons before him kept their heads bowed and remained silent the entire time during Tristan’s telepathic exchange with Lucifer.
“Well, say something, for goodness sake,” Lucifer ordered.
“Like what?”
“Thank them for coming, ask how they are, exchange sex stories for all I care, but say something so they know you’re aware of their presence.”
“Um, hi,” Tristan mumbled. “I’m Tristan.”
Ardat looked up from her place at his feet and smiled. “One of our kind has never sat on the throne before. Today is a momentous day for all sex demons. May I approach you?”
Tristan nodded and the succubus stood up. When she reached the throne, she immediately straddled him and ran her hands down his chest, tweaking his nipples through the thin fabric of the tunic and flicking them with her nails.
“Er…” Tristan began. Would it be an insult to her to say she really wasn’t his type?
“I know exactly what you’re thinking right now,” Ardat whispered in his ear. “It makes no difference if you prefer to share your bed with men. I can make any man come with just the right touch.”


Buy Links


Coming to other online stores in January 2015.

Bio

L.M. Brown lives in England, in a quaint little village time doesn't seem to have touched. No, wait a minute—that's the retirement biography. Right now, she is in England in a medium sized town no one has ever heard of, so she won't bore you with the details. Keeping her company are numerous sexy men. She just wishes they weren't all inside her head.

L.M. believes there is nothing hotter or sweeter than two men in love with each other… unless it is three.

L.M. Brown loves hearing from readers so don't be shy.

Links

Where to find L.M. Brown
Twitter - @LMBrownAuthor

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Guess What? LM Brown brought us One Perfect Wish *squeals*






The Ever-Changing Ending

To say the ending of One Perfect Wish was a long time in coming is putting it mildly.

I like my characters to have happy endings – well, most of the time – but every now and then I really make them suffer.  My free read Anything (found on my blog) is one such example.  When I first started writing One Perfect Wish I had every intention of putting my characters through hell and leaving them there. 

I wanted to write something with a bittersweet ending rather than a traditional happy ever after.

I should have known better.

Despite my best intentions of making them suffer and then delivering the killing blow to end the story, I found myself wavering.

The more words I put on the page, the less likely it was that a bittersweet ending was going to be on the cards.

I like to make my characters work for their happy endings and goodness knows I make them suffer.  But usually it is with the knowledge that once they have earned their reward they get to live happily ever after with the man of their dreams.

As I wrote Scott and Cameron's story I almost immediately started looking for a way out of the bittersweet ending I envisaged for the two of them.  It wasn't long before I had thrown the tear-jerker ending idea into the trash and was leaning towards a hopeful ending.  Not a happily ever after, but at least something less depressing than the notes on the first draft.

For the hopeful ending I did at least get it written and it actually still is a part of the story.  Yet it isn't the end.  I couldn't bear for my two boys to not get their happy ending and ended up carrying on writing their story after the scene that I intended to be the end of the story.

On and on I wrote until Scott and Cameron did get their happily ever after. 

One day I will, hopefully, manage to write that bittersweet ending story and make sure that it doesn't end up with a traditional ending simply because I can't bear to leave my characters unhappy.  I strengthen my resolve to do this every time I see a reviewer call one of my stories “predictable” and one day I know I will have to bite the bullet and write that tear-jerker that will throw everyone for a loop. 

I think, however, that when I do that it will need to be a regular contemporary/historical story.  When you write paranormal it is far too easy to undo the disaster you have inflicted on your characters with a wave of the "magic wand". 

Now, I imagine there are some people thinking that this blog post is mighty spoilery for the story since – horror of horrors – you know Scott and Cameron end up together at the end.  I don't see it that way.  If a story does have an unhappy ending then most publishers put up a warning for the bittersweet ending right there on the product page.  This story does not have one of those, so of course it will have a happy ending.

If you want to know how they achieve it then get your copy of One Perfect Wish.

One Perfect Wish by L.M. Brown

Blurb

Playing the part of another man’s husband to fulfil a wish is easy, but what happens at midnight when the magical day is over?

Scott Baxter is a workaholic with no time for love, until a djinn pulls him out of his life and deposits him into the bed of Cameron Kirk. Cut off from his life, Scott isn’t happy about the idea of being forced to help the djinn grant an unspecified wish, but he soon finds he has no real choice in the matter. The djinn, who has turned his life upside down, has powers that prevent Scott from leaving and ensure he does nothing to ruin Cameron’s day with his ‘husband’.

Reluctant at first, Scott finds that as the day progresses he starts to enjoy playing the role of Cameron’s husband. He connects with his unexpected lover in a way he never has with other men.

Scott searches for clues to help him track down Cameron after the day is over and he returns to his own life. He doesn’t want the day to end, but the wish is out of his control and when the magic is finished his time with Cameron may be over too.

Excerpt

Scott Baxter woke with a strange feeling something wasn’t quite right. Half asleep and with his eyes still closed, he tried to figure out what could be different. The bed seemed too soft and far more luxurious than the cheap hotel mattress he vaguely recalled crashing on the night before. A thick duvet covered him and he could feel warmth similar to the heat that usually came from another body close up against him. He couldn’t recall ever waking in a hotel with such contentment as he felt this morning.

After working nearly forty-eight hours straight, he had flown back to England on the red eye, practically sleepwalked to a taxi, and had finally fallen into bed exhausted. Long overdue for a break, he told himself he’d take one after his latest consulting project had been completed. He told himself the same thing every time, even though he knew his boss would have another job lined up for him before the final work had been finished on this one.

“Morning,” a sleepy voice murmured into his ear.

Scott froze. His unexpected bedmate moved and Scott noticed he had some serious morning wood pressed against his arse.

He opened his eyes. Only his companion’s arm wrapped around Scott’s chest stopped him falling out of bed from the shock. Had the relentless pressure of his job finally caused him to snap?

The hotel room had vanished and instead he appeared to be in someone’s house. The drapes over the patio doors had been pulled back and a snow-covered garden stretched toward a frozen pond. Light snow fell from the cloudy sky. The landscape outside the doors seemed more like January than May.

“Scott, are you okay?”

Scott didn’t know what to say. Had he been drugged and kidnapped? And if so, why? He wasn’t anyone important and his family didn’t have the money to pay any ransom.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a second voice said. Like the first, this voice also belonged to a man, though he seemed to have a slight accent Scott couldn’t place.

Scott wondered how many men he had climbed into bed with last night, before he saw the second speaker stood at the end of the bed with his arms folded across his bare chest. With baggy silk trousers and golden metal cuffs on his wrists, he could have stepped straight out of Arabian Nights.

“What the hell is going on?” Scott shouted as he tried to untangle himself from the arms of the man sharing his bed. His companion wasn’t exactly helping him and instead seemed to be frozen in place like a statue. He poked the man with a finger. His skin felt normal, yet the other man didn’t react at all.

“You’re here to fulfill a wish,” the man at end of the bed told him. “I’m a djinn and I’m here to explain your present situation.”

Scott stopped contemplating the statue man beside him. “Excuse me?”

The djinn nodded. “I’m sure you’ve heard of my kind. We grant wishes to those who summon us. Well, I’m here because someone wished for you.”

A headache started behind Scott’s eyes. He didn’t have time for this nonsense.

Buy Link


Bio

L.M. Brown lives in England, in a quaint little village that time doesn't seem to have touched. No, wait a minute—that's the retirement biography. Right now she is in England in a medium sized town that no one has ever heard of, so she won't bore you with the details. Keeping her company are numerous sexy men. She just wishes that they weren't all inside her head.

L.M. Brown loves hearing from readers so don't be shy.

Links

Where to find L.M. Brown
Twitter - @LMBrownAuthor


Thursday, December 4, 2014

Guess who came to visit? Mistress Otter brought a couple sweet bears...

BSTB promo poster with date Want to start off saying Thank to TN Tarrant for moving the furniture further out to make room for me and the big boys. Not that I needed the added space, but my Bears tend to break things if a path from the door to the sofa isn’t accommodating. And yeah, should have made more than on dish of the pumpkin bread pudding. What were you thinking? **shakes head**

ANYHOO, BIG SPOON & TEDDY BEAR IS OUT.

ALSO AT Smashwords / All Romance Ebooks And will be listed at Barnes & Noble and iTunes soon
It is the second story for the Teddy Bear Collection. The first being Their Plane from Nowhere which was released with Dreamspinner Press back in May. To tell you a little more than just the standard blurb on Big Spoon & Teddy Bear. It’s a first for me in the way of the entire story being told from just one Character’s point of view. The story actually started off as a short written for one of DSP’s anthology and was limited to no more than 12,000 words. And the entire story was launched on a question I had asked myself: “How would a story play out if one of its characters had Down’s Syndrome?”
Well the story teller fairy answered and Big Spoon & Teddy Bear was written in just two weeks. But as soon as it was submitted for review at DSP, the story was bucking and throwing fits in my head wanting to expand.
It’s funny how stories can have a life of their own, and a personality. In April the selection for the Bear Anthology was made and Big Spoon & Teddy Bear was not among them. Admittedly, there was an actual sigh of relief. The story, while is still a short, has grown some heavy fur like its characters and is now weight in over 35k. However there is also something else unique in this story for me, There is no heavy drama or conflict present, making it a soft read about a self-journey to finding a better spot for the MC to park his heart. It’s this journey I hope many readers will find themselves relating or connecting with that will still keep the story on a good, warm & fuzzy feel list.
BIG SPOON & TEDDY BEAR 500x700

Big Spoon & Teddy Bear

Princess so

MM-Gay Romance/ Mature Men’s Romance / Sports Fiction / Healing
For years Gage has been turning men into steel, athletes into warriors of strength, competitors into medalists. But Gage isn’t looking for any more empty trophies, he’s looking for something far more meaningful.
When Gage takes a new job at an old gym, he doesn’t expect his entire life to get a workout, just a change of pace. At first it doesn’t seem like much and about the only plus is the endless view of rugged and well worked man-candy in the form of weightlifters and Strongman competitors that he’d be training and working with. He figures he has it made the minute he walks in the front door in that sense. But in truth, it isn’t enough. He wants a place to set down roots. More importantly, he wants someone to take root with.
Because he’s gay, Gage had always been told to just be happy with what he got, but there’s something about Boomer. A quiet, towering mountain of a Bear that was the gym’s manager who has Gage hoping for more than just daydreaming about the large physique. And that alone promises to put a spark back into the life of a lonely, freckled ginger.
You’re never too old for a teddy bear, right?
THE TEDDY BEAR COLLECTION Their Plane from Nowhere Big Spoon & Teddy Bear Shagging the Dead {coming out in 2015} ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
teddy-bear-outline-hi

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Just the recent news... and an excerpt from Killian

So some of you know by now that I got laid off a few weeks ago.  It's been a scramble since.  Had a couple nice things happen, some of which I've posted about on Facebook, and one or two I haven't.  Had some not so nice things happen *glares out side at the snow and at the car* such as winter arrived all at once, and the car's starter decided to go out, along with the power steering pump issues I was already having...Why can't cars misbehave when you have the money to fix them?  I do still have a chance to transfer within my company, provided I can move, but they do not help with relocation costs, not even at management level. I am running out of time fast though, so I've been trying to raise money through a fund raiser site.  I'll post the link, so if you'd like to help, it will be easy for you to find.  Any help will be greatly appreciated...

http://www.gofundme.com/gwohwg

In more exciting news, A Not-So-Straight Christmas is due out for re-release on Dec 19th, from Fireborn Publishing; Liam and Jareth's stories, Absentminded Astrophysicist and Loving the Astrophysicist will be out around the same time I believe, from Dreamspinner Press, in a single tome, we're still finalizing the title.  I'll let everybody know what it is as soon as I'm sure. :D  Whispers from a Hidden World: Killian should also be out very soon, but I don't have a release date yet.

For those wanting a taste of Killian, here's a short excerpt:

He stumbled down the stairs. "My Lady?" he called. From down the hall, Killian stepped out, a concerned look on his face.
"What's the matter?"
Shiloh grabbed Killian's arm, careful out of habit not to touch skin. "Please, you must understand something important, my Lady.”
"Come sit in the study and talk to me then,” Killian said, leading him to the study. "What's the matter?" he asked when he got Shiloh seated.
"I'm a very strong touch-sensitive, my Lady.” Killian nodded. That ability was almost universally common among Rimalians, in varying degrees. "I usually avoid touching anyone, I just don't want to know what they're thinking or feeling.” Again, Killian nodded, that too, was normal. A psionic society learned early, ways to observe each other's privacy. "I've touched Anan a couple of times, a few times by accident, once deliberately. Sometimes I pick up things I don't realize at the time, it's like my mind just files it away, unless something triggers the memory. I just remembered why you seemed familiar, when we've never met. I've seen your face in Anan's memories. She hates you, my Lady. You have to watch yourself with her. I'm just a means to an end, no importance, but she absolutely despises you.”
"Number one, Shiloh, you are important. Don't ever let anyone make you feel any different. Do you understand me?" Killian waited until Shiloh nodded, a little dazedly. "Second, I know Anan hates me, as much as I've hated her.” He sighed, apparently thinking. "Have you seen Anan's scars?"
"Scars?"
"She was given fifty lashes, and fined reparations of seventy-five percent of her inheritance, for attempted rape.” Killian was quiet for a moment. "Of me.”

Shiloh sat there, stunned. And his mother had arranged for him to marry such a woman?!

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Depression, life, and working...don't always work well together....

So, I've struggled with whether or not to post this, for many reasons.  Some are mentioned within the post...others are more...nebulous. And things are better now than when I wrote it just a few short weeks ago.  I think it comes down to sometimes things aren't understood unless somebody says something...and i'm beginning to suspect I've been too silent too often in some areas.

So it's here, unedited, just as I wrote it, a little out of date for some things, but still...and if it helps you realize you're not alone, and you're not crazy and it's not in your head and you can't just "get over it," then good.


So I’ve been thinking about saying anything the past few weeks, on one hand, maybe it would help someone understand what people like me cope with, maybe remind someone like me that they aren't alone.  On the other hand, is going to just look like some drama queen wants attention?
I don’t have a bad life really.  I have beautiful child who if she has a few mental issues, they aren't the worst a parent would ever have to cope with.  Physically, she’s healthier than a horse.  She’s a good kid.   Recently she scared me when she didn't answer the phone when I called from work to check on her.  I asked a friend to go check on her and what was she doing?  She had the Wizard of Oz turned up so loud she couldn't hear the phone ringing.  Not many parents of 16 yr olds can say that.
I have a full time job.  The benefits suck, the hours suck, and the travel to and from my job sucks.  But it pays the outrageous rent, it keeps the lights on, puts gas in the car, buys food(not the most nutritious, but you eat what you can afford each payday, right?) It stable hours, and I can usually count on three or four days off every week.  Those twelve hour shifts have their uses, yeah?  Sometimes it even buys a few extras, like a trip to Devil’s Tower, or some DVDs or books.  It’s still payday to payday, but it’s not as thin as we’ve survived in the past.  Ramen noodle months are only a couple times a year.  It’s more than many have, and while the politics are making me more insane than normal, I’m still loathe to give up the stability and time off.  If I can make it to GRL, as I hope to in October, I don’t even have to worry about having to fight for the time off, I can just ask, and it’s mine.  Not many can say that, yeah?
I have my writing that I’m trying to build into a career.  Something that I can depend on not only to help me retain what’s left of  my sanity, but maybe someday will mean I never have a ramen noodle month  ever again.  Something that will mean I can spoil my kid with all the neat stuff out there, instead of wondering how the hell I’m going to buy at least three more pairs of jeans for her, so she doesn’t look like she dressed out of the mine rag bin when she goes to school.   I’ve got good publishers, Rooster and Pig, and Dreamspinner.  Fireborne is off to a good start, and I’m glad I’m going to be part of that.  I not only survived Silver Publishing, and the theft of my royalties, I may have even survived better than some, simply because I never worried about how I was going to pay the rent, thanks to that EDJ that drives me nuts.  I have a contract with DSP to re-release my first published book, Absent-minded Astrophysicist and its sequel, Loving the Astrophysicist later this year as a collection.  My series, Whispers From a Hidden World, with R&P, that I’ve been writing and working on for more than four years, is having it’s first release soon.  Moving Mountains, with DSP releases on Monday.  I’m starting over basically from the demise of Silver, but it’s a good start.  I learned a lot, and that’s not bad.  Rainbow Con was an absolute blast, I had a good time meeting so many people I only knew online.  Enjoyed spending time with Vicktor and Lor, and Willow the Wonder Dog, and Princess SO.  Made some new friends.  Enjoyed being used for demonstration purposes by Andrew Grey.  My cleavage came in handy for once.  A bit funny the only man to play with it in years is gay...
So why would I be depressed?  Why would I, almost as soon as I came home excited from my trip, having gotten several problems fixed, thanks to the networking, and panels and being able to talk to people in person, fall into that fucking hole? Why have I spent since May barely functioning, struggling to get through edits on time, and often failing, struggling to make it through work, unable to write anything, unable to stay awake for more than a few hours unless at work and that was only out of fear of losing the job? 
That’s a question that’s been asked a lot lately, with the death of Robin Williams.  What the fuck did HE have to be depressed about?  He had fame, money, great career, family that loved him.  Great life.
So what the fuck do I have to be depressed about?  Like I said. I don’t have a bad life.  I get by, better than many times in the past, and better than many others. 
There isn’t an actual answer.  It’s all mixed up in chemical imbalances in the brain and past history and current stresses.  Sometimes the answer is: Just fucking because. 
There’s really no other way to put it.
The last time I was this bad, my daughter wasn’t even three years old.  I passed my Section 8 housing inspection because the inspector felt sorry for me, and didn’t want to make things worse, not because my apartment was fit to live in.  The only time in my life where my sink was full of dishes covered in mold, because I could barely function enough to find food for my kid, let alone actually clean enough to safely cook.  It took nearly a year to climb out of that hole then.
It’s been three months this time.  I’m climbing out of the hole.  I knew and understood what was happening this time.  I’m mentally healthier to begin with this time.  Years of therapy, and just plain TIME. There were even people I could have reached out to.  My therapist wouldn’t have kicked me out, even though I’ve not been since April.  Even have meds in the cabinet that were supposed to help, but instead, the Prozac left me in desperate need of the Vicodin, because everything HURT worse.  So no Prozac for me, thanks, the depression physically hurts less. 
And yet the ONLY reason I didn’t swallow that entire pharmacy in my cabinet just called me at work to ask if she could make herself some chocolate milk while she watches the Three Stooges.  Maternal responsibility isn’t the worst reason not to commit suicide.  It’s not the best though.  I’m writing this literally because I have to stick around to make sure she eats every day.  But she won’t need me forever.  I almost care about what happens next time I have an episode this bad, and she’s NOT in the house any more.  But if I’m lucky, that’ll be another ten years or so.  And maybe in another month, I’ll actually care enough to try to plan ahead to deal with it if it happens. 
Depression doesn’t listen to logic.  It doesn’t listen to anything positive.  It only hears the negative.  Only remembers the negative.  It HURTS.  It makes your joints and muscles ache.  It destroys the progress you made in losing the 37 pounds you lost, piling back on 25, bringing your weight back dangerously close to three hundred pounds.  It makes you avoid anyone else, because as much as you might want to help, or listen, you can’t cope with the cesspool in your own head, let alone the drama going on in other people’s heads.  It even makes you forget to do things that might actually help, like going back to the therapist.  Or at least going to the ER and ask them to write the prescription for the Zoloft, since you can’t see your doctor, cause he retired, and you’ve not found a replacement.  It reminds you you can’t afford the expense of another hospital bill, because you can’t afford insurance either.  It reminds you of all the blocks, and you can’t understand it when someone tells you a way out.  It tells you nobody wants to hear it from the histrionic drama queen.
No trigger this time.  No unusual stress in my life. I’d even had a break from the stress in my life.
Just fucking because.
Chronic depression and PTSD have chemical and physical/emotional causes, but they don’t just go away.  Depression doesn’t go away just because somebody else doesn’t think it’s real, or that you have no reason to be depressed.  It doesn’t need a reason.  It’s generated out of chemical imbalances in the brain, that may be exacerbated the circumstances of one’s life.  It just happens.
Just fucking because.
And that’s why it’s hard to cope with.  You might KNOW, there’s no reason feel too tired to move, after you just slept for 18 hours.  You might KNOW, it’s not good for your health to eat half a loaf of bread, because you’re hungry, sort of, but you’re too tired and hurt too much to cook something better.  You might KNOW, that you have things pretty good, and there ARE one or two people in the world that will love you no matter what, and one of them is standing in the doorway, with a worried look on her face, because she’s old enough this time to realize something’s wrong, even if she doesn’t understand what it is.  But depression just is.  It doesn’t acknowledge these things.  It doesn’t recognize that there’s anything to be happy about.
So while I may be climbing out of the hole, I’m still in that fucking hole.  But I WANT to write again.  I need to again.  So that’s something.  I want to find out what’s going on with everybody, even if I don’t want to leave the house yet.  That’s something else.  I’m stalking my editor for edits that I’m not struggling with anymore.  In the long run, that’s better. 
There’s no cure. There’s no sign above our heads that says, “Depressed person, handle gently.” And just because we KNOW we’re depressed, doesn’t mean we can just…DO something about it.  It takes time and support to DO something about it, even when you understand what it is.  It takes time. 
Experience says it will pass, even though that nasty little voice is still whispering that it will never change, that nothing will get better, no matter what I do, so I might as well not bother. 
Experience says it WILL get better, just like we tell the kids being abused and neglected, trying to keep THEM from committing suicide.  Today I can say that.  Today I can write this. But two days ago, I didn’t want to crawl out of bed again.  And tomorrow might be the same way as two days ago.

I don’t have any advice except find whatever will get you through it, and won’t make it worse.  And try to remember when you felt like it would never pass and it finally did.  Try to believe the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t an oncoming train.  Even if you can only believe that for an hour.  Then try to believe that hour is one hour closer to when it will finally pass.    

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Welcome Vicktor Alexander back, with more shiny!

Vicktor Alexander came by, and asked to share his brand new cover for groom of Convenience, so here we go.  Feel free to comment and hopefully the rafflecopter link works better this time around. :D



Blurb:

In an alternate universe, in the country of Angland, 1814, the gentry live lives of culture and class. It is a time of courtships, marriages of convenience, and titles, where scandal can ruin an entire family. Gender lines are blurred, and making a good match is of utmost importance. Children are born to men and women, which has led to the acceptance of same-sex marriages.

Lady Lucien Timothy Hawthorne is shocked and angry when he is betrothed against his will to Lord Heathcliff Eddington, III, the Duke of Pompinshire. While drowning his frustration at a popular gentleman's club, he meets "Robert," a gorgeous older man whom he sleeps with as "Timmy" regardless of the potential damage to his reputation.

After their liaison, Lucien corresponds with Robert via letters left at Remmington, and they decide to elope. Before they can get away, Lucien meets his betrothed, Heathcliff, who he is surprised to discover is also his beloved, Robert. Both men desire a marriage of the heart, but they find out that sometimes a marriage of convenience can turn into love under the right circumstances. But Lucien has a secret, and Tlondon isn't as safe as they once thought. 


Excerpt:

“Here we are,” Rosemary announced, her voice louder than normal, with a false cheeriness to it. Lucien’s eyebrows rose at his mother’s behavior, and he stopped her in front of the closed doors, which once again let Lucien know something or someone was behind those doors that his parents didn’t want him to know about until they’d had a chance to explain it to him.
“Mother, what is going on?” Lucien asked her.
Rosemary looked at Lucien and shook her head. “Why, Luce, absolutely nothing. Why would you ask me something like that?”
Lucien was really concerned, as neither of his parents used his nickname. Ever. He said nothing to her, just staring, unmoving.
Rosemary removed her hand from Lucien’s elbow and raised it to the pearls hanging at her neck to play with them a moment. Lucien was very aware of that gesture; it meant Rosemary was nervous and trying to figure out just what to reveal. He waited expectantly, confident she would let him know what was going on before he had to face his maldy, but when Rosemary shook her head and squared her shoulders, Lucien knew his ploy of silence wouldn’t work this time.
“All you need to know, Lucien, is that everything we do, we do as your parents and because we love you,” Rosemary told him. She raised a hand to his cheek and stroked the skin gently, lovingly. “We were so happy when I gave birth to you and discovered you were a girl. We had been surprised by the pregnancy, as the doctors told me I was past my conceiving years, but you were a delightful surprise. We always wanted a son, and we were finally given one.” She dropped her hand from Lucien’s cheek and lifted it to her face to wipe away the tears that had gathered in her eyes. “We do this because we care about you and only want the best for you.”
Rosemary turned back to the double doors of the red rose room and pushed on the handles to open them. She grabbed the skirt of her morning gown in one hand and glided into the room. Lucien stood in shock for only a moment before he followed her.
“Close the doors, Son.” His maldy’s husky voice came from the direction of one of the chairs next to the fireplace. Lucien nodded and, as he turned to close the doors, saw the Duke and Duchess of Cumbria sitting on the loveseat across from his maldy. He froze in shock for but a moment. Years of etiquette training wouldn’t allow him to just stand in front of the door, but he had never seen anyone in the red rose room who wasn’t family, and now here were two of the most prestigious peers of the realm, not only in their home but in their private family room. Lucien took a moment to compose himself. He smiled at both of them and bowed slightly before turning back to close the doors. After he released the handle, Lucien took a steadying breath and moved to face his parents.
“Well, have a seat, Lucien,” Annabelle directed him.
“Yes, Maldy,” Lucien answered automatically. His maldy was a stern woman. Lucien could only remember one instance where he had ever seen her be soft and loving, though he wasn’t supposed to have. He had woken up in the middle of the night when he was seven years old and had walked out of his room and down the family wing toward his parents’ room. He knew he was too old to actually sleep in the bed with them, but he had wanted comfort from a dreadful nightmare. Halfway down the hall, he’d stopped, frozen in place as he saw his mothers pressed together against the wall next to the bedchamber. They were dressed in evening attire, Rosemary in a gorgeous dress of blue velvet, one hand holding a white shawl, her black hair spilling down her back in a mass of curls. Annabelle was pressed close to Rosemary’s body, her thick blond hair pulled back into a harsh, unforgiving bun, her face pressed into the crook of Rosemary’s neck. Annabelle wore a slim dark green evening gown, embroidered in onyx gems under her small bust and around the hem. As Lucien continued to watch them, he saw Rosemary lift her leg and circle it around Annabelle’s waist, while Annabelle dropped a hand beneath Rosemary’s skirts. Lucien’s eyes had widened, and he’d turned to leave, not in the least bit interested in watching his parents copulate in the middle of the corridor. It was something he only knew about because he’d overheard his sisters speak of it and because he’d sneaked into the servants’ quarters many times and seen the same thing occurring among the servants. Just as he started to turn away, he saw Annabelle lift the hand that had been pressed against the wall on the side of Rosemary’s head and tenderly stroke Rosemary’s cheek. She had leaned close and kissed Rosemary’s lips gently before lifting Rosemary’s leg higher. It was Rosemary’s gasp and harsh groan of Annabelle’s name that had spurred Lucien to turn and race down the hallway to his room.
So while one part of him was happy to know his maldy had a gentle side, the self-preservation side of him tried not to remember how he knew that.
Lucien settled himself on the edge of the chaise next to the loveseat where the duke and duchess sat.
“I believe you know the duke and duchess?” Annabelle said, smiling thinly up at Rosemary, who stood and began pouring tea for all of them. Lucien crossed one leg over the other, balanced his teacup and saucer on his knee, and sat straight up—something else he’d learned how to do in his etiquette class—and nodded.
“Yes, Maldy. So nice to see you again, Your Graces,” Lucien said with a smile at two of the highest-ranking members of society. The Duke of Cumbria was a harsh-looking man. His skin had a healthy tan from spending a great deal of time outside, no doubt riding his horse or hunting, like most titled members of the gentry. It was a luxury Lucien wished he would have once he married, but one he believed he would have to go without once that occasion happened upon him.
The duke’s black hair was brushed back from his face and pulled into a queue at the back of his neck; gray had seeped into the dark strands and colored his temples. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of light gray, almost silver, his chin pointed, a dimple resting in the middle of it.
He had broad shoulders shrouded in a brown morning coat over a startling white dress shirt with a white cravat and a black vest. He wore black breeches, which could barely contain his large thighs, and black boots on his feet.
Next to him, the Duchess of Cumbria wore a morning gown of yellow that caused her pale skin to look sallow. Her red hair, cluttered with gray strands, was pulled back in a bun, tendrils escaping to curl around her rounded face.
Lucien admired the fact that the Duchess had not felt the need to buy a wig of blonde or black hair that would make her much more fashionable. She no doubt felt she didn’t have to, being a superior member of the gentry. Her bonnet rested on her lap, and Lucien wondered if perhaps she had just removed it moments before he’d entered. Where his mother Rosemary had foregone heels for slippers, the Duchess wore a beautiful pair of white heeled shoes with lace and embroidery over the front of them. Her eyes were a deep jade color, and she smiled brilliantly at Lucien when his eyes fell on her.
“And it is indeed a pleasure to see you again, young Lucien,” the Duchess, Jane, if Lucien remembered her Christian name correctly, said, her voice light and melodious.
“I am sure you are wondering why you were summoned to the family home when we did not have a scheduled meal,” Annabelle stated, and Lucien gave the Duchess a final smile before turning his attention to his maldy.
“The thought had crossed my mind, yes, Maldy,” Lucien admitted.
“Well, my dear, we have taken it upon ourselves to make a decision about your life that I am sure you will find not only agreeable but practically miraculous and fortuitous,” Annabelle stated with a pointed look.
That look Lucien knew quite well. Even if he didn’t find the decision “miraculous” or “fortuitous,” he was being ordered to pretend he did in front of the duke and duchess.
“Thank you, Maldy. I am sure that I will,” Lucien agreed. He wondered if he had been offered to be a companion to the Duchess. While it wasn’t at all a notion he would have chosen for himself, it was inherently better than what he thought he’d been summoned to the estate for.
“Your mother and I have decided to accept the suit offered by the Duke and Duchess of Cumbria,” Annabelle told him before calmly lifting her teacup to her lips and taking a sip.
“Suit?” Lucien questioned, looking back and forth between the two couples.
“Yes. You are to wed Heathcliff Eddington III, His Grace, the Duke of Pompinshire, Marquess of Manchester, Earl of Southerby, Viscount of Berkinstock, Baron of Hempstead, heir to the Dukedom of Cumbria, in six months’ time.”


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Author Bio:

Vicktor “Vic” Alexander wrote his first story at the age of ten and hasn’t stopped writing since. He loves reading about anything and everything and is a proud member of the little known U.N. group (Undercover Nerds) because while he lives, eats, breathes and sleeps sports, he also breathes history and science fiction and grew up a Trekkie. But don’t ask him about Dungeons & Dragons, because he has no idea how to play that game. When it comes to writing he loves everything from paranormal to contemporary to fantasy to historical and is known for being not only the Epilogue King but also for writing stories that cross lines and boundaries that he doesn’t know are there. Vic a proud father of two daughters one of whom watches over him from Heaven with his deceased partner Christopher, a proud trans* and gay man, and when he is not writing, he is hanging out with his friends, or being distracted by videos of John Barrowman, Scott Hoying, and Shemar Moore. Vicktor has published numerous bestselling novels and has a WIP list that makes him exhausted just thinking about. He knows that he will be still be writing about hot men falling in love with each other, long after he is living in an assisted living facility, flirting with the hot, male nurses.





Thursday, April 3, 2014

OMG!!!!! Nikki's Secret is now in PRINT!!!!!! And a Formal dance...

Nikki's Secret is now available in print!!!!!  You can buy at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Nikkis-Secret-T-N-Tarrant/dp/0615920705/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1396572962&sr=1-8

OR... there will be copies available at the Rooster and Pig  table at Rainbow Con.  Bring me your book and I will be happy to sign it for you!!!!

There will be other bits of swag from me and Vicktor Alexander, Lor Rose and everybody else there, so come visit!

In other news, I'm in the middle of edits for Whispers From and Hidden World: Killian... and soon I will have edits for Nathan and Raven's story from DSP...

And the big one: My daughter is about to attend her first Formal Dance!!! now who said she could do that? Oh, wait...me...ack! Dress shopping! And shoes, and hair and MAKEUP!!!!! AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!

*whimpers* i'm not ready for this....