Blood Red Butterfly snippet

 

A wee (unedited, unexpurgated) taste of the current work in progress. This is a novella, a yaoi-hybrid first conceived as a little story to support the Japanese translations of a couple of my works being released through Shinshokan.

The original artwork is by my young niece.

BLOOD RED BUTTERFLY

 

“Bad news,” Hernandez said. “Your homicide suspect’s alibi just turned up.”

“No way.” Ryo grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at the fleck of mustard on his navy silk tie. He shot Hernandez a look in the mirror over the bank of sinks in the john. “You’re kidding me.”

Hernandez shook his head. He was not a kidder.

“No. Way.” Now Ryo was angry. Still watching Hernandez in the mirror, he scrubbed ferociously at his tie. “Torres is not walking away from this. He popped the Martinez woman and he’s going down for it. And no little chiquita--”

Hernandez’ sour grin stopped him. “The alibi is male.”

“Male?” Ryo stopped rubbing his tie. “You mean…?”

“I mean you might even know him.” It was not a dig. Hernandez had been Ryo’s partner for a couple of years back when they were both street cops, and he knew a thing or two about Ryo’s personal life that Ryo didn’t generally share. “Might be something you can use. I don’t think the Sotels are an equal opportunity employer, you know what I mean?”

Yeah, Ryo knew what he meant. As badly as he wanted Torres, he wasn’t sure he liked that idea. He’d prefer to break Torres’ alibi, which should be easy enough to do because Torres had murdered that old woman in cold blood. Nothing and nobody was going to convince Ryo otherwise. “You believe this punk’s credible?”

Hernandez shrugged. “Torres used his one phone call to get this guy over here. See what you think. He’s sitting at your desk biting his nails as we speak.”

Ryo curled his lip, double-checking he didn’t have a piece of lettuce between his teeth. He ignored the derisive sound Hernandez made. It wasn’t about looking good, though Ryo knew he looked good—on a scale of Russell Wong to Dean Cain, he fell comfortably in the middle of Yeah Baby!—it was about conveying bulletproof confidence and unassailable assurance. Attitude. It was half the game.

He straightened his tie. “I don’t think this is going to take long.”

Hernandez said nothing.

 

The punk was still sitting in front of Ryo’s desk, though he had stopped biting his nails. Ryo had a quick impression of a slight and slouching boyish figure clad in jeans, a pair of chucks, and a gray hoodie. Across the noisy room someone slammed a file drawer and the kid flinched. Ryo smiled inwardly. Yeah, he’d smash this bogus alibi in less than twenty minutes and get back to building his slam dunk case against Mickey Torres. And this time Torres would not be getting off lightly because of his tender age and deprived childhood. This time he was going away forever. Or what counted as forever in the screwed up Los Angeles County judicial system.

The punk looked up and Ryo almost walked into a chair. A pale, pointed, delicately boned face, chestnut hair, wide dark eyes like a faun--assuming a faun was what Ryo thought it was.

The Ice Princess.

No fucking way.

Mickey Torres’ alibi was the same guy who had three times blown off Ryo at Fubar, a gay club he used to frequent. In fact, the Ice Princess was the main reason Ryo had quit going to Fubar. A guy could only take so much rejection.

So this little stuck-up femme dude had cold-shouldered Ryo, but was willing to offer his bony ass to Mickey Torres? Willing to supply gang banger Mickey Torres with an alibi for homicide?

Ryo smiled unpleasantly, noisily dragging his chair out from behind his desk. “I’m Detective Miller. You have information for me Mr.…?”

The Ice Princess jerked up straight. His face went whiter, his eyes went wider, but there was no recognition in his red-brown eyes. Just fear. Maybe the fear a lot of honest citizens seemed to feel dealing with the law. Maybe the fear of someone about to perjure himself to the police.

“Tashiro. Kai Tashiro.” His voice was light and husky. A young voice. A young man. But not as young as Ryo had originally thought. Probably in his mid twenties. Twenty-three or twenty-four.

“How can I help you, Mr. Tashiro?” Tashiro looked about as Japanese as the big-eyed androgynous figures in the manga Ryo’s little nieces loved so much. It was another point against him, though Ryo knew that wasn’t fair.

Murder wasn’t fair.

“I got a call from a fr—Mickey Torres. He said he’d been arrested and he needed me to—” a nervous swallow, “verify where he was three nights ago.”

Ryo opened the long desk drawer, removed a file, and slammed the drawer closed harder than he had to. Tashiro gave another one of those little jumps. Ryo opened the file, read for a moment, and then studied the man on the other side of his desk.

“Did Torres tell you what he was arrested for?”

“Homicide.” Tashiro’s voice was almost inaudible.

“That’s right.” Ryo shoved the file with the Martinez crime scene photos across the desk. “He killed a seventy-year old woman by the name of Esther Martinez. Take a look at what he did to her. Take a good look.”

Tashiro looked—he couldn’t avoid it—and closed his eyes. He opened them almost at once. “Mickey didn’t do that.”

“Yep, he sure did. He strangled her and then he beat her head in for good measure and because he’s a fucking animal with no conscience and no self-control.” Ryo kept his tone cool and cordial, hoping nobody at the surrounding desks was listening too closely.

Tashiro gave a shake of his head. “He was with me, Detective Miller.”

Ryo took the file back. He considered his strategy. There were a couple of ways to play this. He hadn’t missed Tashiro hesitation using the word “friend” in regard to Torres.

“Okay,” he said easily. “He was with you. From when to when exactly?”

Tashiro was still wearing his the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up. It gave him a strangely monkish look. “From about eleven-thirty to seven-thirty the next morning.”

“About eleven thirty? So is that eleven-fifteen, eleven-twenty, a quarter to twelve? You’re going to have to be precise about the time when you stand up in court and swear to it in front of a jury.”

Tashiro’s eyes flickered, but he said, “When we left the bar, the clock on my car dashboard said eleven twenty-eight.”

“And what bar was that?” Ryo pulled out his notebook and jotted down the times.

“Fubar.”

“Fubar. Hm. I think I’ve heard of it. Where’s that located exactly?”

“Santa Monica Boulevard.”

“That’s a gay bar, right?”

Tashiro nodded, not meeting his eyes.

Ryo put his pencil down. “Do you really not recognize me?”

Tashiro looked up and his eyes went wider still. “Huh?”

Ryo picked up his pencil. Made a sharp notation. “So you and Torres leave Fubar together at eleven twenty eight on Tuesday night. Then what happens?”

“We drove to my place.”

“Which is where?”

“1409 Armacost Ave.”

Ryo grunted. “Nice.” Very nice. Half a million nice. What the hell had the neighbors made of street scum Mickey Torres? And what the hell did Kai Tashiro do for a living that he could afford that kind of prime real estate? Nothing legal probably. “Then what? You guys sat around and played Chinese checkers all night?”

Tashiro turned a shade of pink that would require some serious crosshatching in manga. “No. We had another drink and then we…went to bed.”

“Went to bed? Oh yeah? Did you watch Letterman? Give each other backrubs? Tell spooky stories? I bet Torres has a few of those. Has he shared with you how he wound up in prison the first time?”

Tashiro shook his head. “We…had sex.”

“I didn’t catch that.”

“We had sex.”

“You fucked. Is that what you mean?”

Tashiro’s look was murderous. Ryo smiled. He had a very white and charming smile and he knew how to use it for maximum annoyance. “So you’re gay?”

“Obviously.”

“No, no. We try not to make insensitive assumptions on the police force.  So you’re gay and I guess Torres is gay?”

“I…”

“That news is going to cause quite a stir with the home boys. Homosexuality is not popular with Torres’ gang. And I use the word gang deliberately.”

“Is that it?” Tashiro asked. “Are we done? Mickey was with me. I’ll swear to it in court if I have to. Can I go?”

“You don’t want to wait around for Torres to be released?”

Tashiro’s brows drew together in confusion that was at least partly dismay.

“I’m kidding you,” Ryo said. “It’ll be hours before he’s out. Lots of paperwork involved. In the meantime, we need to get a little more background on you, Kai.”

^^^^^^^^^^^

I hope to have this one out before the end of the year, but no promises!

Breathtaking Cinemascope and Stereophonic Sound

I've been a big fan of audio books for years, so when my own books started making it into audio I was excited. I don't quite know how to explain why it's such a thrill to hear someone else reading your work aloud, but it is. (It's also vastly uncomfortable hearing your sex scenes read aloud, but that's a whole other discussion.)

Three of my Carina Press books made it into audio. I listened to every minute of Fair Game and overall I thought it was a pretty decent production. It was the first time it was driven home to me that there might be legitimate different readings of my words. You would think that would be obvious, but no. I liked the voice of the narrator for Icecapade, but he pronounced Noel's name as "Noelle" and I couldn't get past the first minute. After that I kind of lost my taste for hearing my own work and when Lone Star went to audio, I never bothered to listen. I was afeared to hear those Texas accents.

Yet I continue to buy and listen to audio books, and you'd have to be oblivious not to notice audio is becoming a bigger and bigger deal in publishing. So all those years of readers asking if I would ever consider putting the Adrien English series into audio did not go unheeded. At the same time, I had no idea how I could make that happen.

But then along came ACX or the Audiobook Creation Exchange. And, in fact, here was the news bulletin Amazon released this week:

Exciting New Kindle and Audible Features Whispersync for Voice and Immersion Reading

You can use ACX to produce a digital audiobook version of your book, and to make your book eligible for the new Whispersync for Voice functionality which allows customers to switch seamlessly between reading a Kindle book and listening to the corresponding, professionally narrated audiobook across devices without losing their place. Audiobooks will also be eligible for the new Immersion Reading feature, which allows customers with the new Kindle Fire and Kindle Fire HD devices to listen to a professionally narrated audiobook from Audible as the text of the corresponding Kindle book is highlighted on the screen. When customers buy your Kindle book, they will be able to purchase your Whispersync for Voice-ready Audible audiobook at a special limited time discounted price.

You can earn royalties of up to 90% on your audiobook when it’s created and distributed using ACX. ACX was developed by Audible, an Amazon company, to help authors and publishers get their books into audio and gain access to the growing audience of audiobook listeners. ACX provides access to thousands of talented audiobook producers, actors and studios, available for hire for a fee or for a no-cost, royalty-sharing partnership. ACX also provides great distribution options across all of the leading audiobook retail channels. It’s free to try ACX. Click here for more information about ACX and these new features.

The best part of an enterprise like ACX is you to choose the right voice (which is paramount, I think) from a number of auditions. You set your budget and you can either split royalties or pay an hourly rate up front for the production. From the minute I stumbled across the site, I was excited by the possibilities.

Obviously I thought I would start out (very tentatively) with the AE series. Writing gay fiction, and erotic gay fiction at that, means I wasn't swamped with auditions, but to my delight I did eventually find a very talented narrator by the name of Chris Patton to narrate Fatal Shadows.

Of course everyone has their own idea of how Adrien sounds, but I really liked Chris's voice and I appreciated his professionalism. It seemed like it would be a good match, and so I figured that was that. If everything went well, Chris could do the whole series, and why shouldn't it go well? But if it didn't, I didn't want to commit any further.

 But I just couldn't help listening to other narrators and considering all my other titles and though I didn't want to over-invest in something that might flop big time, I found I just couldn't help listing something very different -- The Darkling Thrush -- just out of curiosity. It's a short work but it's a complicated work. All those lyrical descriptions, all those English and Scottish accents, all that Gaelic.

Well, I only got three auditions.  One backed out when he realized belatedly the project was for gay fiction. The other two auditions were good but one was just...the sound quality was a little iffy and the narrator didn't have a slew of credits, but something about his voice, his delivery just really captured the story -- and my attention. So I asked for a second audition and we communicated a bit and I decided to go with my gut.

Today I listened to the completed files for The Darkling Thrush as narrated by Max Miller and I have to say I. Love. This. Book. Or at least I love Max's reading of it (because holy moly there are a lot of continuity errors in that thing--and hearing the book read aloud really made that painfully clear)! 

But lingering resentment over sloppy copy and proof editng aside, I was chuckling all the way through the completed files, rarely wincing (although I still can't stand to hear my sex scenes read aloud), loving the different voices Max came up with. It made me want to write the sequel! I can't wait for people to hear this book.

Which doesn't change the fact that I have no idea whether it will pay for itself -- I have no idea whether Fatal Shadows will pay for itself -- although given that audio books are so much more affordable now, I feel pretty confident that having an audio backlist is going to be a good move.

Meanwhile, I've been continuing to get auditions for the remaining and still technically uncontracted Adrien books, and some of those voices were wonderful. I thought...well, what about some of these other standalones? What about Kit Holmes? I've got a LOT of books. What about those?

Oh yeah, I've got  the audio book bug now. I asked readers what books they'd most like to hear in audio after Adrien, and I started listing more projects and contacting narrators directly. It's exciting to control this piece of it -- to be able to pick the right voice and the right sensibility for my stories. It's a lot more complicated than just reading the book out loud. It feels like an added creative element to me, but maybe that's not how it seems to the narrator. All I can say is the right narrator brings something unique to the work, something that is all them -- and they become part of the book.

Of course the wrong narrator can wreck a book.

This audio thing is big. Big and getting bigger all the time. I've had a couple of other audio sites and audio production companies contact me directly -- and it's possible I'll try a couple of shorter works with them. ACX does a lot of things well, but their technical support leaves  A LOT to be desired. Plus I've been listening to narrators who aren't even on ACX.

This opens a whole new line of consideration. I like the voice of "Max Tatch" (the guy who narrated Icecapade and Lone Star) and I'd probably use him again, but he doesn't seem to exist. I'm guessing "Max Tatch" is a pseudonym. Also, I like the voice of Sean Crisden who's done a lot of m/m work for Dreamspinner, but as much as I like his voice, do I want my characters to have the same voice as all those other m/m books? Probably not.

But would that matter to readers? I have no idea.

Anyway, I got a little carried away and used up my entire audio book budget for the year (startling,  given that I started the year without such a thing as an "audio book budget") but the end result is there will be four audio books this year including Fatal Shadows, The Darkling Thrush, The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks (that will be Max Miller again -- it'll be fascinating to see what he does with such a different project) and Somebody Killed His Editor.

I settled on Kevin R. Free for the voice for Kit Holmes and we've already contracted the first two books in the series. I'm very excited about that. Kevin's voice is a little husky and he's got a great sense of comedic timing -- he sounds just like Kit Holmes to me. Which is to say that he doesn't sound like any of my other narrators, and that's one of the most exciting things. It's important to me that the characters all not sound alike, that they be just as unique as they felt to me while I was writing them.

Anyway, that's my adventures in audio so far.

What do you think about audio books? Which of my books would you like to see put into audio?

How Much is that Baby in the Window?

It's a political year, and that's always a danger for a writer. The temptation of course is to exert whatever influence I have in favor of my own (probably not so mysterious) political beliefs.

But I restrain myself to writing letters, signing petitions, making campaign contributions and voting.

Anything else is inappropriate, I think. I do my real work, my proselytizing, in my writing. And if you're reading along, chances are you're in sympathy to the majority of the causes dearest to my heart. But that doesn't mean you're a captive audience or that I am allowed to harrangue you with my political and social views.

So I do try to avoid The Debate.

But I saw a post today where someone innocently mentioned how they resent the term "owned" when it comes to pets. Now...I'm sympathetic to this. Those of us who have loved a dog or a cat consider that creature to be a beloved family member. "Owned" doesn't begin to capture the affection we feel.

But when we try to make the argument that we don't "own" a dog or a cat, that they are equal, we trivilize the battle of humans for equality. Because while an animal has the right to our protection and love and care, an animal is not a functioning member of society. An animal bears no responsibilities. We do not expect it to educate itself, to vote, to bear arms, to...well, let it suffice to say that when we try to make the argument that we cannot "own" animals, that animals are just the same as people, we insult and degrade the battle of those humans who have fought (and continue to fight) for equality in our society.

We also open the argument up wide to those who believe that an unfertilized egg is just the same -- has just the same rights -- as a living breathing child or a living breathing twenty year old--or, apparently--a dog.

And while it's possible that the person making the dog argument does indeed believe that the life of an unborn fetus -- or heck, an unfertilized egg -- is as important as that of his mother, for the vast majority of people in our society, this is not the case. And I think we shall see this proven come November.

In the meantime--though I hate to seem humorless and overbearing about this--it's important that we always consider the long term implications and ramifications of our well-meaning politically-directed comments.

Five Things I Love About Summer

Only five more months of sabbatical to go.

Cue the wailing and tearing of clothes and throwing sand in my hair. No. Not really. In fact, I'll probably be back at work sooner than that. Ideas began to flow for the next Holmes & Moriarity story and I've started writing again -- very slowly. It's okay though because I realized the other evening that I'm never going back to the madness that was my old writing schedule. It isn't writing itself that I dread, it's that lunatic schedule I devised.

Well, devised makes it sound like I had a plan. That schedule more or less just happened to me. I had to write (and sell) a certain amount of books to earn a living, and because I had no idea what that might be, I accepted every single proposal that came my way. Thus the year I turned out 13 unique works.

Not something I recommend.

But -- as I keep reminding myself -- I'm never going back to that. Four unique works a year is going to be my target number moving forward. I can't promise all those works will be novels. They may be novellas. They may be short stories. The only thing I know for sure is I'm not the literary equivilent of a jukebox. Those writers are out there, and the readers that are all about quantity versus quality have plehenty to choose from. Cue the Bob Dylan: That' ain't me, babe. No, no, no. That ain't me.

And it never will be. And I'm okay with that. I don't need to make a fortune. I need to earn enough to pay my bills -- health insurance included -- and I need to feel good about the work. Otherwise I might as well go back to being a corporate overlord.

(Hey, you need to buy my books because you do NOT want me for your boss.)

That realization that I control this...that moving forward I will be working at a sane and reasonable pace has done a lot to calm my anxiety down.

So. In the interests of making each moment count, of focusing on the here and now, here are five things I love about summer.

1 - Sunset. The end of the day is a beautiful thing. Especially if it's been a productive day.

2 - Cocktails. What is there not to like about evenings spent with friends? Especially when a modest amount of alcohol is involved and everyone is feeling relaxed and happy.

3 - Hammocks. Does anyone use their hammock in the winter? What is more relaxing than swaying gently beneath clouds or stars?

4 - Swimming. Oh yes. You knew that was coming. I love, love, love the water. There is nothing more immediate and centering than diving into cold water. It clarifies the thoughts and cools off the body.

5 - Reading. Ideally reading in a hammock. But a lounge chair will do. Or even the grass. Or clean, crisp sheets and the five minutes or so of reading before you fall into sleep at night.

For me summer is all about letting go, letting loose, relaxing. What is summer to you?

I Thought This Was Interesting

Five Things New Writers Do That Guarantee Readers Won't Give Them a Chance

I've been poking around the web, checking out various forums and venues for book promotion, and one thing I've noticed is how rude and crude and clumsy BSP (Blatant Self Promotion) has gotten again. It's like we've come full circle. When I first experimented with self-publishing (waaay back when iUniverse was the hottest game in town), aspiring writers frequently did things like spam everyone on their mailing list, bombard discussion lists with announcements of their releases, butt into every conversation with clumsy references to their own work...and so on and so forth.

And what happened, inevitably, was that readers and other writers got fed up and began to lash out at these hapless newbie boobies.  It was a brutal but effective learning curve. And in fairness, choosing to go it alone is such a scary, solitary road and it's understandable that these inexperienced scribes would grab desperately at every chance to keep their book afloat.

The problem is that while a single writer inserting himself and his book into every conversation might be overlooked as the gauche behavior of one member of a community, five hundred authors doing the same thing will be viewed as an assault. The barrage of spamming ensures that reader tolerance will reach its limit and snap. Often the unhappy recipient of all that pent up reader antagonism will be someone newly arrived on the scene with the sheer bad luck to open his mouth at the wrong moment.

Now with self-publishing reaching a whole new zenith, Author BSP is sinking to a new nadir, and once again it's getting ugly and hostile out there. No wonder. I've had several posts from authors in the past couple of weeks featuring subject headers that would do the purveyors of penis enhancers proud. I THOUGHT THIS WAS INTERESTING proclaimed an author who shall be nameless. The message?

Book Title X now available as ebook on Amazon, Google Books and Barnes and Noble.


Come on. Seriously?

Why would anyone think this stark, unvarnished spam from a stranger -- directed to another writer no less! -- would be anything but irritating? I didn't check Amazon, Google or B&N, I didn't even click on the author's profile. I hung onto the message so I could write this post. Period. Spam is spam, and unwelcome advertising, be it for learning to speak a language I have no desire to learn, "a life full of hot babes," or a book with the same generic titles as a dozen other books,  is not going to persuade me otherwise. Adopting the tactics of the worst email spammers -- people who rely on hitting that lucky idiot out of every thousand targets -- will not be successful for most people trying to sell literature.

1 - Don't resort to the shlocky tactics of sleazy offshore spammers.

2 - Don't bombard every list you belong to with repeat announcements about your book. At the very least, mix it up, trade off excerpts, personalize them, and above all don't post every day and don't post more than once per day unless you are actually engaged in conversation.

3 - Don't drag your book into every conversation. Let's say you wrote a mystery and you're hanging around the Amazon mystery forums desperately looking for an opening to mention your book. Someone asks for a recommendation of mysteries with strong middleaged protagonists and you wrote a mystery with a middleaged protagonist!!!  It's Fate! It's the perfect opening! No. It's not. DON'T jump into the conversation to recommend your own work -- unless you can also recommend several other titles by others (and personally I don't think you should mention your own work even then).

4 - Don't keep commenting on your own announcement posts in order to keep them high on a forum page. This is rude behavior -- and the fact that you acknowledge the rudeness by excusing it on the basis of "posts falling off the front page so quickly" doesn't make it any better. Everyone wants a turn on the front page. Get in line and don't take cuts.

5 - Don't make up an alternate ego to do any of the above on your behalf. First of all, we all know that no one -- not even the most devoted of readers -- spends all her time hitting lists on behalf of her favorite author. Besides, bad behavior on the part of someone representing you will reflect on you.


Readers, what are your biggest turn-offs when it comes to authors trying to promote themselves? What tips could you give them from the reader perspective?

TRR Summer Party

Tell me a story and then I’ll go to bed

I finished “Perfect Day” this weekend. Less than eight thousand words and it took about a year to do, so it’s not exactly heralding the end of my burn-out (nor my sabbatical), but it is reassuring to know that I can still produce if and when I need to.

 

More reassuring was my enjoyment in the writing process. I worked on it when I felt like it -- mostly this month -- and when I didn’t feel like writing, I didn’t. I realized again how much I love the work. It’s almost like a drug…that feeling of sinking into an imaginary world, losing yourself for a time as the concerns and cares of these made-up characters supersede your own.

But it’s such a simple story. Really…not much happens in it at all. I like it, but is it going to be enough for readers? Because, yes, I do write for myself -- I think all writers write for themselves to some extent -- but I publish for others. The act of publishing equals the desire to share.  

In this case, the narrative takes place over a matter of hours. It’s mostly reflection and dialog. It’s just a story about two guys who seem to have reached the end of their relationship. I enjoy exploring characters and relationship dynamics, and believe it or not, I don’t always need a gun battle or a high body count to do it. There is a plot and there is conflict and there is resolution. So, yes, technically this is a complete story.

   

But it started me thinking about what a story is. What do we expect from stories? What do we want from them?

I know it varies from genre to genre and individual to individual. I’m mostly thinking aloud here, not really expecting a definitive answer. But really why do we read? What do we look for when we turn to fiction? When does it most satisfy us?  

Confessions of a Small Business Owner

It's surprising to me, though it really shouldn't be, how much time I'm spending on the business -- the busyness -- of writing even though I'm not writing.

I think that's maybe one of the hardest jumps for writers to make -- even writers who hope and plan to make money at their writing one day. It's hard to move from thinking of yourself as a creative person -- an artist -- and start thinking of yourself as a business. Not that you're not still an artist just because you become commercially successful, but it's definitely a different skillset.


When I originally anticipated going on sabbatical, I was sort of vaguely thinking I would just pull the plug and disappear for a year. But that's not practical, given that I earn my living writing. Oh, the books will continue to sell without my doing much, but they sell more when I'm out there twittering (I am such a BAD twitterer, aren't I?) and Facebooking and Goodreading and blogging. That's just the reality. It pays to advertise. So disappearing really wasn't an option, and frankly, I'd probably have got a little bored anyway by the total solitude I initially thought I needed. Still, I have pulled back a lot and there are days when I don't do much more than check my email.


Anyway, the business of writing. Last week is a good example. I was coordinating getting cover art for the three titles that revert in June, I was coordinating the different files and formats I would need for the titles reverting in May. **Stop! That reminds me. May is when the rights to Fatal Shadows and A Dangerous Thing revert to me. I plan on breaking up that omnibus and selling the first two novels separately again, so I want to make sure that word goes out on that. It was a very nice deal for readers, and I hope everyone (well, not EVERYONE) took advantage of it while it lasted. 


Back to the busyness. There were signed books to send out, a newsletter to put together, the question of Japanese translation rights. Which reminded me about those Dutch translations rights. I needed to send a letter to Liquid Silver that I wanted THOSE writes back. I investigated getting audible books made (and, yes, maybe I've found an answer on that one). There was email to answer (that doesn't count though because we all have email). There was setting up a CreateSpace account and starting to get these reverted titles into print.


You see? I'm on sabbatical, but that just means I'm not writing. Every day I'm working. This is not a complaint, although maybe it sounds like one. I'm running a small but thriving business and I can't just go on an indefinite holiday and hope it all works out. Even if I never write another word again, there is still this business to run.

I sort of always knew that, but now it's more firmly established in my mind.

And then lo and behold, the night before last, I actually devoted a few hours researching "A Perfect Day." I told myself I wasn't going to write anything, that it was still too soon to be thinking of that, but the research always seems to stimulate imagination.

Speaking of which, I was struck again by how time-consuming research is. Well over an hour disappeared while I tried to figure out the exact right yellow wildflowers that might be blooming in Eugene, Oregon in May. Why does the exact flower matter so much as long as it's in season? I don't know. But somehow it does. Have I always been this obsessive? I fear so.

It was such a relief to remember that it didn't matter how much time I was taking -- no deadline is involved. Maybe I finish this story for May. Maybe I never finish it. It just doesn't matter.

But then yesterday I woke up and I thought...well, I'll just fill in a few of the blanks. And 2,000 words later, I realized I had been writing. And enjoying it.

But what I most enjoyed was that when I was tired and wanted to stop, I could. I could close the file, turn off my computer, and go pester the SO.

It felt good. I can still write. That's a relief. And, er, I can stop anytime I want to.  That's a relief too.

A Tale of Two Covers

This year I have -- or will soon -- aquired the bulk of my backlist titles. This is good news for me financially, but also a little confusing for readers who sometimes are more familiar with cover art than titles or blurbs (granted the blurbs are not always as helpful as they could be). I try to clearly designate these reissues as exactly that, but not everyone is hanging on my every word.

HUH???!!!

I know, I know! And yet...

Anyway, in the interests of reducing confusion -- and because I LOVE my new cover art, I thought I'd share this month's "new" (re)releases with you.

The Dark Horse. This was the first title I wrote specifically for an m/m audience. It's a little more romantic and a lot sexier (though much of the sex is awkward and troubled) than some of my later stories. Basically I wanted to take a popular romantic trope -- bodyguards and their clients -- and follow what happens after the cameras stop rolling.

Old Cover (which I always liked, by the way -- I think it was a Croco Designs)















New Cover by Lou Harper















Available at Amazon, B&N, and All Romance Ebooks.


The companion piece to this story was actually released late last month. The story was called The White Knight and I wote it because a number of people, including Elisa Rolle, wanted to know the "prequel" to The Dark Horse.

That was a little dilemma because the whole point of DH was to NOT follow the usual story. But it seemed clear to me that readers like the "usual story" for a reason, and there was no valid argument for not giving them the story they wanted.


Old Cover again by Croco Designs

New Cover by Lou Harper

















And this too available through Amazon Kindle, B&N's Nook, and ARE.

I'm also trying to make all these stories available through Smashwords and its myriad formats, but it does take me awhile to get around to all those uploads.

Five Things I Am Loving About Sabbatical

Between the tax bill, the leaking pipes, and the bee hive in the backyard, I was feeling a bit mopey the other day. So today I decided to concentrate on all that is good in my life right now -- and there are  plenty of things to be grateful for. More than grateful, in fact.

1 - Weekly massage.

I confess I'm still a little guilty about the Friday massage sessions. I excuse them on the grounds of my still-effed-up wrists and the persistent knots in my shoulders.

I have to say that this is more like sports therapy than the soothing, relaxing spa-type massage I originally envisioned, but I feel good afterwards. I have a lot more range of motion in my shoulders and my spine has stopped making that distracting clicking sound.

Yeah, I know. TMI. Anyway, I set the massage up for Fridays because even when I go back to work, I'm going to try and keep Fridays as off days -- and that's probably one of the things that makes me happiest. The fact that I am committed to not returning to the old workaholic lifestyle.

2 - Cooking.

I'm not a great cook, but I am an efficient cook. If you give me a reasonably simple recipe I can follow it and generally get good results. And I really enjoy cooking. I enjoy experimenting and substituting and trying out new tools and fooling around in my wee kitchen. I'm doing almost all the cooking now, which is a big change around Chez Lanyon, but I find it very relaxing. Almost zen.

I've been cooking a lot of fish lately -- trying to eat less red meat. I particularly love salmon, but I made this dish a couple of times and it's pretty good.

We're (me) trying to eat more fruit and veg with each meal. Not to be fanatics, just make a few little healthy changes.

3 - My books are still selling.

This is important because if my backlist didn't continue to sell steadily, I'd be in a difficult situation. I'm not ready to start writing again, and I don't want to start cranking out inferior work just because I need the moolah, so thank all the powers that be that the old stuff continues to move.

And the fact that so many titles are reverting to me in short order helps again. The difference between seventy and sixty-five percent of royalties versus thirty percent of seventy and sixty-five percent of royalties is signficant. No question.

Also being able to set my own prices.

So thank you to those of you who have just discovered my work and are buying up my backlist. Thank you also to my long time readers who continue to recommend me to your reading friends.

4 - TV. In particular Downton Abbey.

Yes, I am hooked. Enough said. I have rediscovered my love of TV. Sure, I am watching a lot of documentaries -- anything you would like to know about collapsing bee colonies? -- but I've also discovered stuff like Downton Abbey and White Collar.

5 - The  possibilities of the months ahead.

I'm only three months into this sabbatical. No, no miracle of creativity has happened. I'm not burning to write again. I am mildly interested (which is a BIG improvment, believe it or not). There is still lots to read and XBox games to play and my garden to work in (and my garage) -- summer and the swimming pool are coming and perhaps some travel. And more reading.

So while the sabbatical isn't quite rolling out the way I'd anticipated (did I have a plan? I can't remember), things are pretty good in the State of the Josh. And I'm thinking they will get still better. It's spring, after all. And that's all about new beginnings.

Come Unto These Yellow Sands Vs THE WORLD!!!

So I've changed the blog header to reflect the season. I know it's not officially spring for a couple of weeks, but frankly, we never really had a winter this year. Unless Mother Nature has something wet and icy up her flowing sleeve, I believe it's safe to call it.

Spring.

I guess I should offer a full sabbatical update. Maybe later this week or this weekend? I have been busy, but to be perfectly honest, it's been pretty dull so far. Two years worth of taxes and a refi on the house, a lot of paperwork to catch up on (STILL catching up on), judging a couple of literary awards, and the business of getting all these reverting titles back into play under my own imprint.

Imprint sounds a bit grand. I mean...under my own name.

Anyway, several more titles will be coming back to me this spring -- and I'll also begin reacquiring print titles (though I haven't quite decided what to do with them yet).

Really that doesn't seem much to show for three months, does it? I cleared out the bedroom closets! That should count for something.

Ah! I did have a purpose in starting this blog! Just in case you suspected my mind was beginning to wander. Come Unto These Yellow Sands (which I personally think is one of my all time best efforts) has been nominated in this year's DABWAHA.

The GLBT field is especially tough this time around, but I still think I've got a fair shot. Anyway, the madness and mayhem begin this Sunday. You can find out more about how the whole thing works right here.

It was a lot of fun last time, I have to admit. Mostly because of the lengths readers were willing to go to for their favorite books and authors. Well, not just readers! Authors too. :-D

Anything could happen this time -- and probably will. Stay tuned!

Roll the Presses

It must be a weird convergence of planets or colliding stars or something, but in the past couple of weeks I've had three or four readers pointedly asking about print. One guy suggested I hated Capitalism and one gal seemed to think I'm the one who stuck the knife in the unsuspecting back of legacy publishing. Why are people trying to kill books? she asked in (judging by the frowny face emoticon) all seriousness.

So, for the record, despite my youthful Socialist ideals, I'm pretty much as big a Capitalist as the next successfully self-supporting writer AND I am not trying to kill books. I'm not even trying to wound books. I love books. I love ebooks and print books and picture books and graphic novels and I even have fond memories of a weird little cloth book I had as a toddler. Which I think I loved so much I may have actually eaten.

But I digress.

I respect the passion for stories and reading that leads people to get riled because they can't find the books they want to read in the medium they prefer. That is indeed annoying, and I am sympathetic because I remember quite well how frustrating it was to find stories I wanted to read only available digitally in the days before I had an ebook reader.

I understand and I sympathize and obviously the more books I can sell, the more money I make, and I like that. (See cap·i·tal·ism. noun \ˈka-pə-tə-ˌliz-əm above.)

So we're kind of all on the same side here.

The thing is, I don't always control whether a book goes to print or not. Some -- actually most -- of my publishers retain the print rights on the titles I sell and that means it's up to them whether the book goes to print. I don't have any objection to any of my stories going to print. And most of my stories ARE in print.

And of the ones not currently in print, most of those will be in print as the rights revert back to me and I republish the books myself. Pretty much the only titles that won't be in print are the ones through Carina Press. And even those will eventually be in print although it will be a few years before I get those particular rights back.

So hopefully that answers that. Pretty much everything is eventually going to be in print. The fact that all my titles are not currently in print is not because I have anything against print publishing.

Now the fact that all my work will eventually be in print doesn't mean that you'll be able to walk into your local bookstore and find Fatal Shadows on the shelves. It doesn't work like that. In order to publish in print I'll be using print on demand technology (POD) and those books are rarely carried by bookstores. You'll be able to special order them usually -- just as you do now -- or you'll be able to get them through various online retailers.

The other thing to be aware of is that POD books are almost universally trade paperbacks, and those don't come cheap. They're usually ten bucks and up. Again, that isn't something I can completely control. I have to be able to make some modest profit on print books. I'd at least like to break even.

Anyway, hopefully that answers that and we can now return to the previously scheduled complaints about why authors choose to write short stories.

And Da Winnah Is

Karan with this entry:

It was quite a bit harder to choose this time, despite the fact that there were fewer entries. I think maybe because a lot of you know me or know my work enough to have a feel for what I like.

But in any case it finally came down to a handful of covers, and to be honest I could have gone happily with any one of them. They were all excellent.

I don't know if it was conscious on Karan's part or not, but she got me with that feel of heat and sundazzled water. I am partial to swimming pools, as some of you know. The bare and beautiful male body will sell books and I really liked the colors -- I don't have a lot of blue covers currently, so...in other words it was partly logic and partly that instinctive, gut response that defies explanation.

Congratulations, Karan!

I want to say how really appreciative I am of each and every one of these submissions. I'm always startled and touched by how really generous you are all with your time and your creativity -- and your patience with all my goofy ideas.

As a way of saying thank you, I'll be very happy to a supply a copy of the new edition of the book to each person who submitted a cover to the contest -- I'll keep you posted on the release date.

Meantime, if Karan could drop me a line so we can get moving, I'd appreciate it!