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Inspiration
Happy Birthday, Losing Better! Also, Paladins.
January 30, 2019
Yay, Superpowered Love 4: Losing Better exists again! Check out its page to read some excerpts, go and have a listen to its soundtrack at my youtube page, or just snag yourself a copy at LT3's book market or these lovely retailers.
I'm not the first to say it and I probably won't be the last, but Losing Better is a weird romance novel. Okay, okay, all my books fall into that category, it's true. But this one is even weirder than most, because its protagonist and narrator, Gabriel, is... well, he's a dick.
But in a lawful good* paladin way.
For those of you not familiar with the fantasy archetype of a paladin, let's start this out with memes, because this is, after all, the 21st century.
or, maybe a little more to the point in re Gabriel:
Paladins are the dicks-for-good of the fantasy world. I mean, I've run into some paladins I didn't immediately want to choke with their own swords, but that's largely just because my current D&D campaign has one who serves a perpetually drunken god, which mellows him out sufficiently. Most of the time. He's still lawful good, though, which is... difficult.
Think Captain America (pre-Civil War if we're talking Marvel Cinematic Universe). Think Superman. Think Leslie Knope but without the compassion that women in our society are expected to have. These characters are awesome, but oh my fucking GOD are they difficult to be around on a day-to-day basis. And so long as it's legal and will bring "good" things to pass aka order and law? They pretty much have to do it.
This is Gabriel's problem. He's rigid. Inflexible. And worst of all, self-righteous, which is a huge failing of the paladin type. The self-righteous are blind, the lawful are unyeilding--it's not a good combination.
But he learns. He changes. He grows... or I tried to show him growing, anyhow.
So that's why in spite of the difficulty of the main character--hell, maybe because of it--this book has a really special place in my heart. That, and I kind of based his major principles off a really good friend of mine (who is not difficult to be around, for the record, because she has a sense of humor about her paladin-ness). He's so fun to write though, oh my god.
Gabriel will be back as a side character in Book 9, which I'm writing right now. He's different, but... still Gabriel. We'll see if he's any more likable now >.>
Anyhow, Andrew, his love interest/quarry is a really likable guy, if somewhat juvenile in some aspects... but he grows up a lot too, and I'm sure he's for the better when he appears in book 9. And I hope people can enjoy his story. He definitely deserves his happy ending.
*For clarification on the D&D alignment system, please see this.
Today, Roxanne D. Howard and I are doing a blog swap for our Halloween-themed tours. Check her out and be sure to say hi! -Katey
Hi there, I’m Roxanne D. Howard. I write erotic romances with Loose Id. Thanks for having me on your blog! With my Halloween-themed book (the first in a series), Batten Down the Hatches, out now with Loose Id, I’d like to share ten fun and interesting facts about Halloween with you all.
1. The word “witch” actually means “wise woman.” Wiccan women were highly respected before Halloween came to America.
2. Halloween is thought to have been around for over 6,000 years. Trick-or-treating originated in Ireland in the early 20th century for a festival of the dead called Samhain, where Celts left treats on their front doors to ward off evil spirits, and then eventually it came to America through Irish-Americans. During World War II it died out due to sugar rations. After the war, the “Peanuts” comics helped to bring it back along with children’s magazines and radio shows, and by the early 1950’s it became popular again. In a way, Halloween is more Irish than St. Patrick’s Day.
3. The fear of Halloween is called Samhainophobia.
4. When the movie Halloween was made in 1978, the budget was so small that they used a Star Trek mask of William Shatner for the character of Michael Meyers. When Shatner later found out, he said he was honored.
5. Scottish lassies believed that they could see the images of their future husbands if they hung wet sheets in front of their fires at Halloween. Some believed that they’d see the face of their boyfriend if they looked into mirrors while they walked down stairs at midnight on Halloween.
6. October 30th is National Candy Corn Day. Despite it being one of the most hated Halloween candies, Americans purchase over 20 million pounds of Candy Corn every year. It’s surprisingly one of the healthier candies being fat free, with 140 calories per handful. Candy corn was created in the 1880s in Philadelphia, and at the time it was called “chicken feed.” The recipe hasn’t changed in over 100 years.
7. Some of the first Halloween costumes were worn by the Celts. They would wear animal skins and blacken their faces to emulate the dead to honor them. America didn’t see the outburst of costumes until the 1930s.
8. The largest pumpkin ever measured weighed over 2,000 pounds and took 105 days to grow.
9. Bobbing for apples originated from the Roman harvest festival that honored Pomona, the goddess of fruit trees. Young single adults would bob for apples either in water or hanging by a string, and the first one to bite into the apple would be the next one allowed to marry.
10. The first known pumpkin originated in Mexico around 9,000 years ago. People used to believe pumpkins had the ability to remove freckles and cure snake bites. We all better go eat some pumpkin pie, then!
Book Description:
 |
| Art by Bianca Duerte, Design by April Martinez |
Piper Goldhirsch is the head reporter for Business Buster, an Undercover Boss-esque tabloid exposé show. While it was never her
dream job, it pays the bills. When she attends a masked Halloween Ball and has
a passionate affair in the billiard room with a sexy costumed pirate captain
who calls himself Captain Jack, what starts out as a few kind words and
exchanged kisses soon transforms into the greatest sex of her life, and she’s
haunted by the powerful magic between them. Piper parts ways with the
mysterious stranger, and assumes she’ll never see him again… until he becomes
her job’s next target.
Captain Jack Spencer runs his own brand new whale watching
company, Ahoy, Matey, on the outskirts of Costa Mesa and Balboa Island. He’s so
good at it he’s garnered the attention of rival companies. Piper is called in
by Jack’s nemesis to go undercover on an ocean tour to expose him, and reveal
his alleged illegal tricks that have made his business so successful in a short
amount of time. But when Piper realizes he’s the same sexy man she slept with
at the Halloween Ball, she’s emotionally conflicted. Jack is unable to forget
the woman from Halloween, and when they do meet up again, they can’t keep their
hands off each other. It’s time to Batten Down the Hatches, because the waves
are about to get wild!
Character Art:
Excerpt:
IN TYPICAL HOLLYWOOD
fashion, the idiots talking to Legs obviously had no idea she was upset, but
Jack saw her pain, plain as day. Whatever they’d said had transformed her
radiant smile into a thin line, which paled her pretty face, and it pissed him
off.
He stalked past them and
yanked a bottle of wine out of a bucket from a nearby table when the attendant
had his back turned. She had her coat slung over one arm and appeared to be leaving,
but then she paused and went into the billiards room instead. She left the door
partially ajar. He waited a minute, then nudged the door farther open and
stepped into the room. She had her back to him and was clutching the edge of
the pool table on either side of her, her head hung low. Her coat lay sprawled
out on the pool table, as though she’d flung it there in haste. Jack closed the
door behind him.
He should have tried to
make conversation while they danced. He knew he should have; after all, this
woman had all but stepped out of his most private fantasies and been delivered
right into his arms. But he didn’t want to break the magic that seemed to
permeate the air tonight. As was the case when he spotted a rare, beautiful
whale out in the deep-blue sea, he needed to hold on to the moment and cherish
it. Hopefully she’d talk to him now.
“Mind if I join you?” he
asked, his voice low.
She gasped and turned,
her hand over her heart.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to
scare you.”
Her chest heaved as she
took in some deep breaths, then he saw her visibly relax.
“It’s okay. I
just…thought I was alone.”
Her strong New York
accent and throaty voice shot straight to his cock. He lifted the bottle of
wine like a white flag. “I can leave you alone if you’d like. I thought it
looked like you could use this. I’ll leave it here. Have a nice night.”
He didn’t want to come
off as a creep, even if it meant blowing whatever chance he had with her. He
set the wine down on a side table and turned to go.
“Wait.”
He turned back around.
She bit her lower lip as she appraised him.
“You can stay for a
while.”
“Thank you.” He moved
further into the room, picked up the bottle, and held it up. “Hey, you want to
see a cool trick?”
“Sure.”
“Fifteen years at sea
taught me this.” He grinned.
“Sea?” She paused, then
eyed his costume. “Oh, that’s right, you’re Captain Jack.”
“Argh. I am, lass,” he
quipped in a pirate voice. He slouched beside her and parked his rear end
against the pool table as he began to remove the foil on the bottle. “Now, if
you’d be so kind as to pass me your shoe, wench.”
She quirked an eyebrow.
“What? Why?”
“So I can open this
thing. I didn’t manage to grab a corkscrew. But I know an old sailor’s trick.
Bear with me. I promise, I’ll give it back in pristine condition.”
“Um, okay.”
She steadied herself
against the pool table with one hand and unlatched her right flat with the
other. He hooked his finger beneath the strap and examined its craftsmanship.
“You have dainty feet for such a leggy woman.”
“Charming. You always
start conversations this way?”
“Only with beautiful
women I’m trying to impress, Legs,” he said as he flirted with her, leveling a
heated glance on her impressive breasts. He turned his attention back to the
bottle. “Not from around here, are you? New York?” Her dark, intelligent eyes
followed his movements as he removed the foil covering.
“Jersey, originally, but
I grew up in New York.”
“You don’t strike me as
an actress. You’re too with it. You would have told me your life story by now.”
She laughed. “No. I’m
the anchor of a late-night cable news show.”
He nodded and hummed
with this new information. He didn’t watch television and had no idea who this
woman was, but he could believe it. She looked the type. “I see you’re a rebel
too.”
“Excuse me?”
He motioned with his
forefinger to her elaborate eye makeup. “The unconventional approach. Nice
butterfly mask.”
“Oh.”
She smiled and ducked
her head. God, her wide and beautiful mouth. He stifled a groan at the image of
what her succulent lips would look and feel like around his cock.
“Thanks. My mom was a
makeup artist for Cats on Broadway for seven straight years. She gave me some
pointers, and they kind of stuck. She did all kinds of makeup experiments on
me, like fairy eyes, animal faces… I asked her to do a big bruise once, and I
thought it was the coolest thing ever. I went around the block and showed it
off to all my friends.”
He chuckled. “She sounds
pretty cool.”
“She’s the coolest. And
anyway, if you can’t be original on Halloween, when else can you be?”
“I’ll drink to that.” He
turned his attention to the flat in his hand. He nestled the slim bottle in the
base of the shoe, and using both hands, smacked it against the pool table.
Her eyes widened, and
she stretched her hand out. “Whoa. Here’s an FYI, Captain Jack. Those are
expensive. You won’t impress me by ruining perfectly good shoes.”
“Trust me.” He winked at
her and smacked the shoe on the pool table three more times. The cork loosened
and came almost all the way out. He grabbed it between his teeth and yanked. A
loud pop filled the room. He gave her the bottle of wine. “Milady. You take the
booze. I’ll put your shoe back on.”
PIPER RAISED HER
eyebrows, impressed. “Damn. I knew heels were instruments of power, but this
took it to a whole new level.”
By all rights, a man on
his knees before her with a cork between his teeth shouldn’t have been sexy,
but he was. This guy had confidence coming off him in waves, but in a more
organic sense than one of the manscaped Hollywood peacocks who
frequented these type of events. He exuded confidence. And boy, those boulder
shoulders of his begged to be touched.
Author Bio:
Social Media Links:
Website: www.roxannedhoward.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RoxanneDHoward
Follow the Rainbow Hop: GLBTQ Writing Katey-style
August 24, 2012
Today marks the start of Rainbow Book Review's inaugural blog hop, yay! Thanks very much to Lena Grey and Serena Yates of RBR for inviting authors and publishers to help celebrate their shiny new site. It's beautiful.
The topic for the hop is 'What Writing GLBTQ Literature Means to Me'. It's a topic that's at once so complicated and so obvious that I rarely say much about it, but I should, so I'm happy for the occasion. Please be warned, this will be a really personal post and way TMI, but that's the kind of question they asked, innit?
I was a bit of a late bloomer, as they say. I never had the interest in boys that my friends did--oh, I had pictures of rock stars on my walls, but that was as near as I ever really wanted to get--and when I dated someone, it was because, well, they asked, and they seem okay, so... I guess I should? (Someone get teenage me one of those 'I need feminism because...' signs, please.) I thought people were beautiful but had no interest in touching them, or, when I got a little older, I enjoyed and wanted sex for and of itself, but was never all that happy with a partner--or random fucking around. I was impatient with love stories because, I mean, seriously, what a load of crap. Blow some shit up, entertain me, none of these lies about true love, thanks.
Then in my last year of undergrad, something clicked into place, and I realized my lack of enthusiasm was because I hadn't been thinking about love and sex and even myself in a way that was at all natural to me--I'd been thinking about it how I thought I was supposed to think about it. No wonder I couldn't muster any real interest--it was being shoved into some weird little box for no good reason.
Not to sound melodramatic, because it really wasn't, but the realization that my brain is queer changed everything. Understanding and acknowledging how I worked, and that my way is just as valid as anyone else's, freed me to make myself, and future partners, so much happier.
In retrospect, I can see how perfectly obvious it is, and so can the people who were close to me growing up. I also had plenty of friends who identified all over the spectrum once I went off to college, but-- Okay, I'm a super-proud lit nerd, and fiction is what gets to me the hardest and fastest. I can see the pattern of characters that captured my heart, of love stories that spoke to me, even the things my friends and I made up to amuse ourselves as kids. I often think that if I'd had more stories with queerbrain protags of all shapes, sizes, manners, genders (or lack thereof), and orientations, I might've come to that freeing realization a lot earlier. That's part of why visibility is such an important thing to me personally now. It's amazing how things have changed in just a few decades, and what we have access to now is so much more inclusive than what we had when I was in high school in the 90s--and bless the hardworking pioneers who've sacrificed so much to get us to this point.
Thing is, it can never be enough. Not until all viewpoints are visible, represented, part and recognized parcel of society's intellectual fabric--and not in a way that others and exoticizes. Yeah, I have QUILTBAG-identifying protags. And yeah, they love and fight and hate and fuck--or not--by the same basic human rules as het-norm protags. Because that's for real. So basically, I'm writing the stories I was making up for myself back then, the stories I wish I'd had, the stories that will always ring true to me. Stories where brains work either like mine, or in a way I recognize, that feels natural to me, that feels honest.
And yeah, my honesty isn't even close to heteronormative. Clearly. But I still think, hope, and know that it's accessible to every human, regardless of their own identity. That's the point.
And yeah, my honesty isn't even close to heteronormative. Clearly. But I still think, hope, and know that it's accessible to every human, regardless of their own identity. That's the point.
As a side note: I have since discovered that there is such a thing as love and happily ever after. And that, my friends, is why I came back to romance with a vengeance, once I knew myself. Because it's honest, after all.
After that absurd little confession, I think it's appropriate to give away an e-copy of By the River--which takes place in my hometown (if renamed). Might explain a few things you never wanted to know, right? You can check out the details on the book here, if you're interested. All you have to do is leave a comment on this post (please include your email if it's not listed in your profile), and I'll let random.org pick a winner on the 27th, after the hop is over.
Don't for get to hit up the other blog hop posts, including the main one, for more opinions, thoughts, and giveaways. Oh, and also, the last day of the hop (the 26th) is the last day of the Equilibrium Birthday Giveaway, so check that out too and maybe score a print Equilibrium/Riot Boy copy while you're here.
The "B" word
July 17, 2012
Here's something that will surprise no one: I like writing bisexual and pansexual characters. Like, a lot.
Here's a count, so far:
Sam* and Hansen
Brady and Etienne
Jamie and Kelly
Aeron* and Tam
Adam* and Leith
The little star of course indicating a bi or pansexual character. No, definitely not trying to imply that they're the same thing, and each character has their own reasons for identifying (or refusing to) as they do, but that's a different post. For the purposes of this one, I'm gonna put that section of spectrum folks together. And yes, that three-out-of-five couples trend continues and intensifies as I get more and more books kicking--y'all have already heard about Malory, and he's under the "B" category too. All the letters in the QUILTBAG are important to me, and I can and will be all-inclusive. But this one is, again, unsurprisingly, kinda my thing.
A lot of the way I've seen bisexual/pansexual/ label-eschewing generally awesome people who are attracted to other awesome people represented in books, TV, and film makes me stabby. I strongly feel that if we had more characters who weren't at the extremes of the spectrum, a lot of hurtful myths--which for the record are as rampant within the LGBTQ community as without--would be that much closer to extinction. Visibility. Representation. All that good stuff. So bearing in mind that I am by no means the expert on anything, here are a handful of absurdities I enjoy having my characters defy:
- Bi people are slutty. Not that being slutty is bad, because personally I think it's awesome--but it has nothing to do with where you sit on the spectrum. I had this conversation with another bi author recently, but in fact we, and most of our acquaintance, are completely the opposite. Being attracted to those who identify as male, female, and nonbinary is not a matter of greed. It's how we're wired.
- Hetero attraction goes away after we hook up with a same sex partner, or vice versa. This is not a switch someone flips. While every individual has their own experience and it's of course possible, I've not yet met a person who actually went "gay for you"--which is why that phrase stings a lot of bi and pan people, for the record. We're kinda touchy about the whole bi-erasure thing. I'll let Malory say it for me: "It's not like it wears off if I don't smell pussy every year or something. Always gonna do it for me."
- On a related note: bisexuals can never be truly happy as one half of a monogamous couple. Sure, some are poly, just like, yanno, straight or gay or asexual--anyone. Ever. But just because someone's bi, it does not mean they must have it all at once any more than liking men means someone needs ALL THE MEN at once. Logic. It's a thing.
- Bisexuals are gay but can't admit it/straight but faking it. Possibly the most insulting of all potential myths. As another good bi writer-friend of mine (we need a support group, trust me) says, "I love being a mythical creature." We exist, I swear. While human sexuality is often in flux, and a person's identity can change over the course of their life, bi and pan are no different than any other labels in that sense. This isn't a phase. We're real people, and we know who we are.*
- Variation on a theme: bisexuals are manipulative. I see this one a lot in TV and film and it makes me scream. Guy swears he's straight, then sleeps with some dude to get something he wants and goes back to his girlfriend/wife/whatever. This? This is not a bisexual thing. This is a dickhead thing.
- Accepting your bisexuality creates huge internal drama. Don't get me wrong, obviously it can. I have some friends for whom it was incredibly difficult. I know this makes for good conflict, and fiction is all about the conflict, but it doesn't always go down like that--not by any stretch of the imagination. Sometimes it's just like, "Oh, well, that explains everything, awesome." Then their friends are like, "Oh yeah, saw that coming a mile away." And then their family goes, "Yeah, no shit, you like girls too," and go back to drinking their beer. (Yes, that happened. To me**. My brother's hilarious.) Some of us don't want it to be a big deal, either. I mean, other people make enough of a big deal out of it for us. But, like, we live with it, so it's more likely that we aren't super surprised when we figure it out.
Why is this coming up now? Adam Kavanaugh, who happens in, oh, two weeks. (Yikes!) He is, as my Editrix Raven says, pathologically mellow. Which doesn't always please the people around him, but hey. Gotta keep on keepin' on. He's got me thinking about it, though, so here we are.
I'd be really interested in any bi or pan stereotypes others have noticed, too. (The other me blogs about this a lot, but I'm sure I'll never cover everything.) I do realize that one person writing weird-ass books isn't going to fix anything. But it sure is fun to have at it, all the same.
*Also, questions are good. That's where it starts. I <3 questioning, and would give a lot to live in a world where that was made easier for people. Everyone would be a lot happier and more comfortable in that world. So don't think I'm trying to exclude that concept, please.
**I know I'm not the only one. Not only because of friends, but because of, oddly enough, Equilibrium. For every person who says, "Man, Sam 'went gay' too easily." there are three who say, "Oh thank god, a reasonable bisexual character, geez." Hope. I have it!
Guest Post: J.A. Rock talks about "Doing It"
March 31, 2012
Today I am lucky enough to have my friend J.A. Rock, author of the magnificent By His Rules (I gushed about it on GoodReads a while back -- before we actually met) and the upcoming Wacky Wednesday, stop by and discuss doing it.
Well, not, like it. But just, you know. That awesome feeling when you're doing it.
I'm not helping. I need some inspiration, clearly. Take it away, J.A.:
Well, not, like it. But just, you know. That awesome feeling when you're doing it.
I'm not helping. I need some inspiration, clearly. Take it away, J.A.:
Doing It
It kills me that I can’t dance.
I am a giganto theater nerd and will sing the love hits of
Broadway to my dog, Professor Anne, until she looks around the room for my car
keys so she can split. But I have never been able to dance to save my life.
Except…I can almost sort of bellydance. A little.
What I like about bellydancing is that it can be slow and
sensual. None of those crazy jazz steps that have me tripping and panicking. No
high heels. No partners to swing and twirl or be swung and twirled by. I’m
actually decent at many of bellydance’s individual moves.
The problem occurs when I try to put the moves together.
I simply can’t move my arms and legs at the same time.
If I could just do hip circles all day, I’d be fine.
If snake arms were all it took, there’d be no issue.
But I can’t figure out how to hip circle while I’m snake
arms-ing.
I can’t do drop kicks while I alternate genie arms.
Can’t shimmy while I Egyptian walk.
It’s just too much to ask of my uncoordinated body.
When I rediscovered bellydance last summer after an
eight-year break, I bought the DVD Bellydance
for Beginners, starring Leila—a sassy, sexy, leopard-print-top-wearing
Egyptian dancer who breaks the moves way, way down for Gangly McGawkersons like
me.
Leila’s friendly, conversational, encouraging. She gets
uncomfortable-giggly when she talks about “accentuating your feminine
gooiness,” which in layman’s terms I believe means, “shake your tits.” She
tells me that when I do wrist circles I should imagine I’m trying to get cake
frosting out of a bowl with my fingers. I can learn anything if it’s phrased as
a cake metaphor. If anyone had ever cared enough to cake-ify algebra for me, my
SAT scores might have been very different.
A few weeks ago, I reunited with the same bellydance DVD I
practiced with in high school: Basic
Dance, starring identical Punjabi twins Veena and Neena Bidashi. They look,
dress, and wear their hair exactly alike. The only difference is one of them—I
think Veena—always looks sultry and vamptastic when she’s dancing, while Neena
looks profoundly sad, mildly frightened, or like she’s trying not to laugh.
She’ll be dancing away with a smile plastered on her face, and suddenly she’ll
get this expression like she just remembered the day they had to put the family
dog to sleep. Or she’ll smirk like Veena whispered something hilarious to her
in the middle of the Desert Flower.
Veena and Neena don’t mess around. Where Leila sometimes
stops to reassure me that while a certain move is tricky, I’ll get it
eventually, Veena and Neena never pause. “Look, you’re doing it,” they’ll say,
approximately .5 seconds after they’ve demonstrated a new move or combination.
“There’s no way I could possibly be doing it,” I want to
shout. “I need to stare at my feet in despair for at least five minutes
thinking deeply about how to move them and imagining how foolish I’ll look when
I do.”
The thing is, eight times out of ten, I actually am doing it—to my complete astonishment.
The key is the not-thinking. As soon as I remember I’m supposedly
incapable of moving my arms and legs at the same time, I’m lost. But on Veena
and Neena’s mad gallop through bellydance basics, I forget how incompetent I
am.
I just do it.
And yeah, okay, there are moves I might always suck at. I’ve
watched myself in the mirror, and when I do shimmies I look like I’m being
electrocuted. Aladdin arms make me look like I’ve been shot in the head and am
actively trying to hold my brains in. I have absolutely no feminine gooiness to
accentuate. But I perform these moves a whole hell of a lot better when I’m not
looking in the mirror thinking about how god-freaking-awful I am at them.
I have writerly equivalents to Aladdin arms and shimmies—tricky
moves I’m convinced I’ll never master. But my writing, like my dancing, benefits
from me sending my rational mind from the room to go check on those rolls in
the oven. If I’m not thinking about the things that are hard for me; if I’m not
worrying about what I’m doing right or wrong, I look down and oh my god, I’m doing it. I’m creating
worlds, building characters, going on a motherfuckin’ journey.
There’s words on
that screen, yo.
During the editing process, my rational mind is allowed back
into the room. Its job is to dissect my writing coldly and clinically. It can
freak out and throw slippers and ask Professor Anne where all the promise I
showed as a child has gone, but it has to know how the moves work and how to
improve the way I execute them. This is the point where I have to look in the
mirror and assess my own shortcomings.
And oh it hurts.
But the initial act of creation, that doesn’t need to hurt.
That’s no time to look in the mirror. When I’m meeting my characters and
discovering their world, I don’t want anyone stopping me to say, “Oh boy. This
is going to be tricky.”
I want to hear, “You’re doing it.”
Because holy crap…I am.
The Inspired Part 2
March 21, 2012
I actually grew bored of blogging about myself sometime at the beginning of March, but! As it turns out, Nobody's Hero dropped a week earlier than we originally (maybe) though it (kinda) would. Which is a good thing, but it screwed up my plans to do another fun inspirations post and give it the proper attention it deserves -- which is to say not sharing a day with me trying to give crap away. Because the character inspiration stuff I have collected this time?
Awesome.
So here we go, in the same vein as The Inspired Part 1 post -- now with new authors!
First off, the lovely Cara Bristol -- who, for the record, is currently up for "best BDSM" at TRR, so check her out! When I was digging around for author inspiration for this post, Cara found a piece she'd written earlier in the year about Reckless in Moonlight, her latest release from LI.
The post is called Behind the scenes: what you DON’T see in this erotic romance, and it has some fabulous bullet points. I love the stuff about how she was inspired by growing up in Southern California (I am SUCH a sucker for a book where the setting becomes a character of its own and infuses the whole thing). Also interesting: the bits about her favorite parts.
(She does not say what inspired the kitchen sex scene. That's okay. I'm sure it's inspired enough by itself.)
Next up, a great, if vaguely scary, post from K.C. Burn. Trompe L'oeil has been on my to-read list since it dropped because -- well, okay, for one it looks super hot. But also, hey, art history nerd. Cannot help myself.
So imagine my excitement when she directed my attention to Sources of Inspiration: The Hellhole Apartment on her blog:
My first apartment was a hole, for various and sundry reasons. But I’m a writer… which means it also gave me a lot of inspiration (when I wasn’t cowering in the corner thinking I should call the cops or wondering just how many cockroaches qualified as a public health hazard).
Yeah, like that old saying, "Bad things don't happen to writers; stories happen to writers." Also, cockroaches. Ew.
Really, though, check out the post. The way she tells the story is just magnificent.
Allie Ritch was also kind enough to provide some fun inspiration for me, which -- I mean, come on, she writes books about Alien Sex. You know I'm all over that like white on rice. She mailed me this fabulous bit:
Preach, sister. Though I would like to throw in that it takes a particularly devious and lovely mind to come up with an alien take on the subject. Which makes me gleefully happy to know you, Allie.
Last up this time around, an excellent series of posts recently started by Missy Welsh. She recently announced some very cool news about her new short story series with Amber Allure. (I KNOW OMG.) Since then, she's been doing these fabulous "Inspiration behind the story" posts about it.
The first one is, appropriately enough, about what I believe will be the first of the AA stories to drop, Inspiration Behind the Story: What. I really like the way she describes how this picture of Joel Rush (unf those tattoos! Yes, I have a thing. No one is surprised.) hit her with the idea, so I'll just let her tell it. But it's gorgeous. The second is Inspiration Behind the Story: Come Cuddle Me -- and anyone who has seen some of the lovefest that can happen on tumblr will completely sympathize with how this one happened. (Also: adorable. Oh my god.)
So obviously I am now stalking Missy's blog to get more of these little tidbits when she allows us. And also, to stalk the release of these stories because mmmmmm short fiction.
Wow. So this post is all over the place. Which only goes to show that Allie's on the right track about finding inspiration anywhere. Hopefully I'll be able to convince more authors to do this in another month or two with me, because after only two, these are already my favorite blog posts ever. Partly, I confess, because they make me feel a little more sane -- or at least like I'm in good company. Mostly because of how they're exploding my to-read pile due to sheer awesome.
Signing off til tomorrow -- thanks again, rad authors!
Awesome.
So here we go, in the same vein as The Inspired Part 1 post -- now with new authors!
First off, the lovely Cara Bristol -- who, for the record, is currently up for "best BDSM" at TRR, so check her out! When I was digging around for author inspiration for this post, Cara found a piece she'd written earlier in the year about Reckless in Moonlight, her latest release from LI.
The post is called Behind the scenes: what you DON’T see in this erotic romance, and it has some fabulous bullet points. I love the stuff about how she was inspired by growing up in Southern California (I am SUCH a sucker for a book where the setting becomes a character of its own and infuses the whole thing). Also interesting: the bits about her favorite parts.
(She does not say what inspired the kitchen sex scene. That's okay. I'm sure it's inspired enough by itself.)
Next up, a great, if vaguely scary, post from K.C. Burn. Trompe L'oeil has been on my to-read list since it dropped because -- well, okay, for one it looks super hot. But also, hey, art history nerd. Cannot help myself.
So imagine my excitement when she directed my attention to Sources of Inspiration: The Hellhole Apartment on her blog:
My first apartment was a hole, for various and sundry reasons. But I’m a writer… which means it also gave me a lot of inspiration (when I wasn’t cowering in the corner thinking I should call the cops or wondering just how many cockroaches qualified as a public health hazard).
Yeah, like that old saying, "Bad things don't happen to writers; stories happen to writers." Also, cockroaches. Ew.
Really, though, check out the post. The way she tells the story is just magnificent.
Allie Ritch was also kind enough to provide some fun inspiration for me, which -- I mean, come on, she writes books about Alien Sex. You know I'm all over that like white on rice. She mailed me this fabulous bit:
Like most writers, the inspiration for my stories can come from anywhere. I got the idea for my first erotic sci-fi romance, Switching Positions, from a conversation with a friend. We were discussing how hard it is to be a woman in today’s society. It got me thinking. Men don’t exactly have an easy time either. How would I feel if I were the one expected to make the first move, pop the question, serve as the main breadwinner, etc.? Today, women are taking over a lot of these roles, but these tasks are still predominantly expected of the men. Well, next thing you know, I’m writing a story about a planet where gender roles are reversed. Like a domino effect, I then got the idea for my Alien Sex Ed series from a passing comment I made in Switching Positions about a Sex Ed class the heroine took in school. What would a Sex Ed class on another planet be like? Voila, more ideas and more books. Now I’m currently drafting a new paranormal work that was inspired by a wildlife documentary I saw on T.V. So you see, you just never know. Inspiration can be found in the oddest places.
Preach, sister. Though I would like to throw in that it takes a particularly devious and lovely mind to come up with an alien take on the subject. Which makes me gleefully happy to know you, Allie.
Last up this time around, an excellent series of posts recently started by Missy Welsh. She recently announced some very cool news about her new short story series with Amber Allure. (I KNOW OMG.) Since then, she's been doing these fabulous "Inspiration behind the story" posts about it.
The first one is, appropriately enough, about what I believe will be the first of the AA stories to drop, Inspiration Behind the Story: What. I really like the way she describes how this picture of Joel Rush (unf those tattoos! Yes, I have a thing. No one is surprised.) hit her with the idea, so I'll just let her tell it. But it's gorgeous. The second is Inspiration Behind the Story: Come Cuddle Me -- and anyone who has seen some of the lovefest that can happen on tumblr will completely sympathize with how this one happened. (Also: adorable. Oh my god.)
So obviously I am now stalking Missy's blog to get more of these little tidbits when she allows us. And also, to stalk the release of these stories because mmmmmm short fiction.
Wow. So this post is all over the place. Which only goes to show that Allie's on the right track about finding inspiration anywhere. Hopefully I'll be able to convince more authors to do this in another month or two with me, because after only two, these are already my favorite blog posts ever. Partly, I confess, because they make me feel a little more sane -- or at least like I'm in good company. Mostly because of how they're exploding my to-read pile due to sheer awesome.
Signing off til tomorrow -- thanks again, rad authors!
Superpowers, Sex, Violence, Other
March 1, 2012
I do actually write stuff other than comic-style superpowered folk. I know, this is ultra shocking, but it's the truth. Earlier this year, the other me had a dark (really dark...) fantasy novel drop, featuring some of my favorite creepy creatures, the fae, and this year I'll have one with my other favorite creepy creatures, vampires. Woohoo! You probably won't catch me writing anything but some fantasy sub-genre -- while I love to read it, I get bored writing if I can't have magic of some kind -- but that's about the only restriction I have.
But there will come a time when I get to bust out some other stuff as Katey Hawthorne, too. I already have a couple of... mmm, they're sort of fae, but more magical realism than straight up fantasy. (Yeah, I know, but it's different, really!) In this spirit, when it came time for the M/M Romance group at Goodreads to do their "Love is Always Write" event, better believe I snapped up the incredible fae prompt from the mind of Miya Kressin. I mean, check this image? How could I NOT?
And then, um, I sat down and wrote it in two days with very little concern for food or water or other silly little human concerns like that. So I guess the moral of this story is that I am at the mercy of the voices, and it's hard to say what's going to wake them up. But it's a pretty good bet that if someone:
1. Can light things on fire with their brain
2. Can be classed as one of the endless permutations of fae
or
3. Likes to drink blood
I'm probably in. Bonus if I get to write wingsex. Which, for the record, is not sex with the actual wings, but sex with someone who has wings. Yeah, I've had an Angel obsession since I was a kid, what can I say...
Hey though, new free read coming up this summer, so that's good news! There will be a fae boy. With really pretty wings. Also a human boy. With, um, a nice happy trail? Also, magic. Weee, thanks Miya.
Aaaand as a little update, the cover for Nobody's Hero is in production (rawr!), the page is added to the Loose Id site (empty for now, but there!), and release is going to be sooner rather than later. As in -- and please don't hate me if it doesn't happen -- within the next, oh, two weeks.
Hell yes.
Sadly, Nobody's Hero does not contain anyone lighting things on fire with their brain... but it does have a side character who can. And our PoV boy, Jamie -- he's pure electric.
But there will come a time when I get to bust out some other stuff as Katey Hawthorne, too. I already have a couple of... mmm, they're sort of fae, but more magical realism than straight up fantasy. (Yeah, I know, but it's different, really!) In this spirit, when it came time for the M/M Romance group at Goodreads to do their "Love is Always Write" event, better believe I snapped up the incredible fae prompt from the mind of Miya Kressin. I mean, check this image? How could I NOT?
And then, um, I sat down and wrote it in two days with very little concern for food or water or other silly little human concerns like that. So I guess the moral of this story is that I am at the mercy of the voices, and it's hard to say what's going to wake them up. But it's a pretty good bet that if someone:
1. Can light things on fire with their brain
2. Can be classed as one of the endless permutations of fae
or
3. Likes to drink blood
I'm probably in. Bonus if I get to write wingsex. Which, for the record, is not sex with the actual wings, but sex with someone who has wings. Yeah, I've had an Angel obsession since I was a kid, what can I say...
Hey though, new free read coming up this summer, so that's good news! There will be a fae boy. With really pretty wings. Also a human boy. With, um, a nice happy trail? Also, magic. Weee, thanks Miya.
Aaaand as a little update, the cover for Nobody's Hero is in production (rawr!), the page is added to the Loose Id site (empty for now, but there!), and release is going to be sooner rather than later. As in -- and please don't hate me if it doesn't happen -- within the next, oh, two weeks.
Hell yes.
Sadly, Nobody's Hero does not contain anyone lighting things on fire with their brain... but it does have a side character who can. And our PoV boy, Jamie -- he's pure electric.
WiP Wednesday: Inspiration and the ATF
February 15, 2012
Thank you to everyone who dropped a comment in the giveaway. Copies of Nobody's Hero will wing their way to both Dianna and Sarah as soon as I get them. Yay! And never fear, there will be a big giveaway after the book drops in March too -- with prize packs, Like the Riot Boy giveaway back when Et and Brady first hit the scene in November, there will be Nobody's Hero themed prize packs.
Which means I'm giving away comics, Irish-American punk, and Guinness paraphernalia, yeah. Pretty much. But also, a copy or two of Nobody's Hero itself. In which the love interest is an Irish-American punk comic book nerd who likes Guinness. Fair enough, I reckon.
Right, onto this WiP Wednesday thing again. The truth is that I've not been writing anything this month. I have loads of editing projects to get through and March is going to be hellacious (in a good way), so I want to clear everything out. That means I've been reading even more than usual, but yeah. No writing.
I have, however, been preparing stuff I've already written for submitting to my editor for consideration. It's a gut-wrenching process, trying to decide if a manuscript is finished enough to be seen, but I am extremely lucky in my crit partners and beta readers, most of whom I've known for at least the better part of a decade. Let's just say they aren't afraid to let me know when I suck, and I thank all the gods I've ever heard of for that every day.
The next one to get shipped off is a story about a superhero. I know, all this stuff (so far) is superpowered, but Andrew is actually a vigilante crime fighter in a small town in North Carolina. As a kid, my family spent a lot of long, hot summers in Carolina after my grandparents retired to a lake house down there -- and that house served as inspiration for Andrew's, the little town nearby as inspiration for the imaginary Hooperstown he's devoted to saving. I was plumbing the depths of my childhood summers to come up with the perfect setting...
And I thought, hell, this should be a story about two people who had an adolescent summer fling at this house once upon a time.
The guy telling the story is a different sort altogether. Gabriel is a cocky young special agent. That's right, FBI vs. Superhero.
And Gabriel isn't my fault.
Last summer my friend Hayley stayed with us for a few weeks while she was interning at the ATF. (Federal bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, yeah, for real. She's hardcore.) We started talking about the crap people have to go through to become FBI agents (which some do after working at the ATF, and some special agents work for the ATF -- which is a totally badass job, but that's another story). And I said, "Man, anyone who got through that would have to be pretty proud. And maybe a bit of a cocky prick, even."
She agreed.
And Special Agent Gabriel Genêt was born. All Hayley's fault.
Will this story ever see the light of day? I don't know, really, but I sure as hell had fun writing it. I even had fun writing the synopsis last night, if you can believe it. Weird how disparate inspirations can come crashing together to make something like that...
I collected some stories like this from romance authors all over the place a few months back: The Inspired (Part 1?). I had Kirsty Logan, Belinda McBride, Jessica Freely, Louise Bohmer, and Lisa Kessler link or tell their stories that day -- and I totally want to do it again. So if you have a pre-existing blog post or a similar story of inspiration, drop me a line and I can include it in my next inspiration round-up! I've already got a few reeeaaaaally good ones lined up -- coming soon :D
Which means I'm giving away comics, Irish-American punk, and Guinness paraphernalia, yeah. Pretty much. But also, a copy or two of Nobody's Hero itself. In which the love interest is an Irish-American punk comic book nerd who likes Guinness. Fair enough, I reckon.
Right, onto this WiP Wednesday thing again. The truth is that I've not been writing anything this month. I have loads of editing projects to get through and March is going to be hellacious (in a good way), so I want to clear everything out. That means I've been reading even more than usual, but yeah. No writing.
I have, however, been preparing stuff I've already written for submitting to my editor for consideration. It's a gut-wrenching process, trying to decide if a manuscript is finished enough to be seen, but I am extremely lucky in my crit partners and beta readers, most of whom I've known for at least the better part of a decade. Let's just say they aren't afraid to let me know when I suck, and I thank all the gods I've ever heard of for that every day.
The next one to get shipped off is a story about a superhero. I know, all this stuff (so far) is superpowered, but Andrew is actually a vigilante crime fighter in a small town in North Carolina. As a kid, my family spent a lot of long, hot summers in Carolina after my grandparents retired to a lake house down there -- and that house served as inspiration for Andrew's, the little town nearby as inspiration for the imaginary Hooperstown he's devoted to saving. I was plumbing the depths of my childhood summers to come up with the perfect setting...
And I thought, hell, this should be a story about two people who had an adolescent summer fling at this house once upon a time.
The guy telling the story is a different sort altogether. Gabriel is a cocky young special agent. That's right, FBI vs. Superhero.
And Gabriel isn't my fault.
Last summer my friend Hayley stayed with us for a few weeks while she was interning at the ATF. (Federal bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, yeah, for real. She's hardcore.) We started talking about the crap people have to go through to become FBI agents (which some do after working at the ATF, and some special agents work for the ATF -- which is a totally badass job, but that's another story). And I said, "Man, anyone who got through that would have to be pretty proud. And maybe a bit of a cocky prick, even."
She agreed.
And Special Agent Gabriel Genêt was born. All Hayley's fault.
Will this story ever see the light of day? I don't know, really, but I sure as hell had fun writing it. I even had fun writing the synopsis last night, if you can believe it. Weird how disparate inspirations can come crashing together to make something like that...
I collected some stories like this from romance authors all over the place a few months back: The Inspired (Part 1?). I had Kirsty Logan, Belinda McBride, Jessica Freely, Louise Bohmer, and Lisa Kessler link or tell their stories that day -- and I totally want to do it again. So if you have a pre-existing blog post or a similar story of inspiration, drop me a line and I can include it in my next inspiration round-up! I've already got a few reeeaaaaally good ones lined up -- coming soon :D
Guest Blog: How Erotica Helped Save My Muse by Louise Bohmer
January 20, 2012
I invited my friend Louise to stop by today and give me a little insight into why she likes writing erotic fiction -- I wrote an introduction for her current project, a teaser of her upcoming story collection, Passion Plays, on a similar subject, and of course we all have slightly different reasons for doing what we do. That's the fun part.
So here's the word from a wonderful author who's been hard at it for a while! (Yeah, I won't pretend I didn't mean for that to be punny. I will apologize though. Sorry, that was bad.)
So here's the word from a wonderful author who's been hard at it for a while! (Yeah, I won't pretend I didn't mean for that to be punny. I will apologize though. Sorry, that was bad.)
How Erotica Helped Save My Muse
by Louise Bohmer
I started writing erotica and erotic romance for the first time back in
about 2006. A dear friend who writes romance as Ann Cory introduced
me to these genres. Through various author groups, I met tons of great friends
also writing erotic fiction of some kind or another, and I discovered
organizations like ERWA and the EAA. These
proved to be great research resources.
But after producing a handful of short stories, I decided to step away
from erotica and erotic romance while I concentrated on editing and other
freelance work. I continued to write dark fantasy and horror, but I figured
something had to get cut, and I wouldn't have time for erotic fiction with
editing, too.
Though I only wrote erotic fiction for about two years, I did miss it.
There's something freeing about writing in these genres. They're fun, sexy categories
of fiction that let the writer's imagination get kinky--or, at least get a lot
of action. And, when I hit a stumbling block writing-wise a while back, I came
back to erotica and erotic romance because my muse needed that type of fun and
freedom.
I tend to overthink my writing too much sometimes. And, while I had
started on a novel that was also chipping away at the muse's stage fright, I
still kept stalling. I needed another genre or two to kick me in the butt.
Enter another good friend who, coincidentally, I met through my erotic
romance loops of old. She and I got talking about erotic fiction, and she
encouraged me to get back into writing it. After a few more chats, she and I
started writing an erotic romance steampunk. Then I dove into an erotic romance
novella of my own, and, subsequently, I've started a few other erotic fiction
projects. I also pulled out those first stories I wrote when I got into erotic
fiction back in 2006, and I put them together in an erotic romance collection
called Passion Plays.
It's funny, but since I returned to erotic fiction, and opened my muse
to more genres, it cleaned out the imaginative constipation I had going on.
I've found my muse needs this creative freedom (or museli, as there's more than
one, but I digress).
Another aspect of erotic fiction that works well for my muse--and this
might sound contradictory, in light of my above paragraph about needing freedom--is
the certainty. The certainty of sex. I know the story must contain lots of it,
wrapped in a good piece of fiction (was that pun intended?). It is because of
this certainty I don't overthink erotic fiction. Instead, I tend to embrace the
challenge of wrapping a good story around loads of sex. How exactly will I
reveal this facet of the character's personality, while still getting him and
his partner to have sex in a car on Valentine's Day? That sort of thing.
For some writers, that certainty is counter-productive. Me? Even though
I need creative freedom, I often find this foundation of sex inspirational.
That and I'm a pervy horror writer. But taking the basis of sex and seduction
in its many forms and building great characters with sizzling chemistry around
this can be akin to building a puzzle. Creating the erotic story can be akin to
the art of seduction itself. As you 'meet' these characters your brain builds,
you lose yourself entirely in the moment. In the creation of the story. Fingers
often fly faster and faster over the keyboard. And you have those 'ahah!'
moments when all elements of the story come together perfectly, and a
satisfying conclusion is reached.
***
L.
Bohmer was the pen name under which Louise Bohmer once wrote erotic fiction. Today,
she writes erotic fiction under other pen names, Isabel Dyakov being one.
She
lives in New Brunswick, Canada, with a tattooed giant and assorted fur
children. To learn more about Louise and her alter egos, visit: www.louisebohmer.com
Her erotic romance collection, Passion Plays, will be released
February 14. The Passion Plays Teaser, featuring an essay On Love from Katey Hawthorne, is now available at Smashwords, Kindle, and Louise's website. To keep up with
release news for the collection, bookmark: http://www.louisebohmer.com/site/passion-plays/
I love Louise's erotic shorts -- they're especially good if you read m/f and dig a little f/f/m. (Which I should note is my absolute favorite menage pairing. Predictably enough.)
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