Love is Love

I’m proud to be part of this anthology to benefit the Orlando Pulse victims:

Coming Soon

Close to You (third in my Sunshine and Happiness series) is on pre-order at Dreamspinner, and it will be on pre-order at Amazon and other locations March 13th 2016. Hooray!

https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=7478

Source: Coming Soon

Anna Butler and Research

Welcome, Anna

Research. Lots of lovely, lovely research

I’m a geek.

No, really. The first thing I did when I decided to write Gilded Scarab as a steampunk world was cheer and rub my hands together, before rushing off to read up on steampunk’s history, on the steampunk aesthetic, on coffee making, on anything I could think of. I listened to steampunk bands, even, and discovered a new fannish love in Steam Powered Giraffe. When it came to Gyrfalcon, I was looking up such wonderfully esoteric things as interferomatic dispersion, what actually happens if an airlock blows out in a vacuum, and sketching out on paper how the Gyrfalcon’s hangars and launch tubes work.

I love research.

Partly for its own sake, because I find it innately satisfying to learn when women athletes were first allowed into the Olympics (the second modern Olympiad in 1900 in Paris, as it happens) or how a naval flag office works. But mostly because it helps me visualise and describe the worlds I’m building, and because those worlds are stronger and more vivid from the details I’ve been able to add to them.

The trick is to know what to put in (only just enough) and what to leave out (probably most if it, but I had fun researching). Feed through enough detail to give your created world completeness and coherence and make your narrative three dimensional and rich. Do it right and the little gems of knowledge inform your story, threaded through it like beads on a string,  catching at your reader’s attention—hopefully subtly and naturally. It makes your world live. It’s all about balance: blend your imagination with all that stuff you’ve collected together, and seed the details through your narrative so quietly and seamlessly your reader just sees the whole, complete world and never has to worry about things like the plumbing.

And if you’re like me, half the fun is sharing research with readers. You can use an author’s note, Pinterest, blog posts, website background notes, a slideshow, book trailers… The ways of sharing these fascinating world-building snippets have gone well beyond the old days when all you got was a fold-out map at the end, if you were lucky.

You’ll find extra snippets of information on both the Gilded Scarab and the world of Taking Shield at my website. Do explore them to find out fascinating things such as what ‘Stravaigor’ means or which dreadnought heads up the Ninth Flotilla. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it together.

 

Are you a writer? How do you store and use the fruits of your research, and do you share it with your readers?

 

 

BLURB: The Gilded Scarab

When Captain Rafe Lancaster is invalided out of the Britannic Imperium’s Aero Corps after crashing his aerofighter during the Second Boer War, his eyesight is damaged permanently, and his career as a fighter pilot is over. Returning to Londinium in late November 1899, he’s lost the skies he loved, has no place in a society ruled by an elite oligarchy of powerful Houses, and is hard up, homeless, and in desperate need of a new direction in life.

 

Everything changes when he buys a coffeehouse near the Britannic Imperium Museum in Bloomsbury, the haunt of Aegyptologists. For the first time in years, Rafe is free to be himself. In a city powered by luminiferous aether and phlogiston, and where powerful men use House assassins to target their rivals, Rafe must navigate dangerous politics, deal with a jealous and possessive ex-lover, learn to make the best coffee in Londinium, and fend off murder and kidnap attempts before he can find happiness with the man he loves.

 

 

EXCERPT

The polished wood and dark red velvet of the lobby carried through into the Praecipias, giving the lounge a rich and luxurious feel. The light of crystal chandeliers glinted on cut glass and the bottles ranged on shelves behind the bar. As the maître d’ had hinted, it was still rather early and the company was thin. Two patrons sat at separate tables. They straightened and looked back at me when I glanced around, both wearing smiles and expectant expressions. But no. They were good enough, but neither appealed to me. The trick was to pretend I hadn’t noticed them at all, instead focusing on my scotch and lighting one of the thin cigarillos I’d bought at the tobacconist. That way no one’s feelings were hurt.

A shame, perhaps… but no. Thanks to Phryne’s careful hands, I was shining that night. I deserved better than good enough. I deserved much better, and I could afford to wait until there was someone whose company I fancied. So I drew on my cigarillo and inhaled the sharp smoke. If I tilted my head back, I could watch the smoke float up toward the embossed ceiling. It hung in the light, drifting back and forth, and back and forth.

“May I buy you a drink, sir?”

I really am not a nervous man, but I jumped. Good Lord! Where had he come from? Sneaking up from the left, where I still had difficulty seeing things on the edge of sight, I supposed. I hadn’t seen him approach, and now that I looked, two or three others must have come into the room while I had contemplated my scotch and stared at the ceiling. Two stood at the bar talking, and a third slid into a chair at a table near mine, his dark eyes raking me over. He looked faintly familiar, although I couldn’t imagine where I’d seen him. He was well enough, too, but I turned my attention to the man who’d spoken to me.

Oh, but this one was better than good enough! Much better.

About my age, by the look of him, but as fair as I’m dark—wheat blond hair in artful disorder, with quite astonishing hazel eyes set above high, pronounced cheekbones and a strong mouth and chin. Thank God he had a chin. There were far too many men who had none worthy of the name. The rest of the stranger was rather attractive too. He leaned on a cane in his right hand, inclining his long, trim body toward me. It gave him a slight air of eagerness that was, I felt, distinctly flattering, as well as allowing him to show off an evening suit that fitted him like the proverbial glove and must have cost a very pretty penny. Definitely better than just good enough. Unless he turned out to have all the personality faults of Attila the Hun, this one would most certainly merit further attention.

And, really, Attila the Hun hadn’t been all bad. He was rumored to have been very considerate of his horses.

 

WHERE TO BUY THE GILDED SCARAB

Dreamspinner as an ebook and in paperback.

From an Amazon near you (Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk links for starters)

All Romance as an ebook

 

 

BLURB: Gyrfalcon

Earth’s last known colony, Albion, is fighting an alien enemy. In the first of the Taking Shield series, Shield Captain Bennet is dropped behind the lines to steal priceless intelligence. A dangerous job, and Bennet doesn’t need the distractions of changing relationships with his long-term partner, Joss, or with his father—or with Flynn, the new lover who will turn his world upside-down. He expects to risk his life. He expects the data will alter the course of the war. What he doesn’t expect is that it will change his life or that Flynn will be impossible to forget.

 

 

EXCERPT

All the warning he got was the slightest prickling of the hair on the back of his neck, then someone or something forcibly connected with his legs and brought him down. The impact had that foul-smelling air whooshing out of his lungs.

“Stay down!” Bennet said. “Two drones. Right behind me.”

Flynn tried to catch his breath. Bennet, arms and legs wrapped around him, rolled them both into the shelter of the rock that he’d evidently been hiding behind. For an instant they lay in the warm darkness, wrapped together. They were in deep shadow, and Flynn had to feel for Bennet’s face to touch it, to make sure that the Shield captain was really there. His hand found Bennet’s mouth, felt it curve into a smile, and he smiled himself.

Bennet disentangled himself, so that Flynn was undistracted again. Huh. Shame. Bennet had felt pretty good. He inched up to peer carefully around the rock. The two drones were about fifty feet away and marching towards them.

Bennet was breathing hard. “One each, then let’s get the hell out of here. Take the one on the right. On my count: three, two, one.”

They rolled in opposite directions from behind the rock. Flynn fetched up on his knees, bringing up the laser and firing several sharp short bursts. His drone staggered and fell onto its back, its circuitry fried by a plasma bolt to the head. The remaining one stood rigidly still, sparks shooting out from its chest circuitry. In an awful travesty of a human reaction, its hands were clawing at the hole in its chest. It toppled slowly over onto its face.

“Shit,” Flynn said. “What an exciting life you madmen lead! Any more of them?”

 

WHERE TO BUY GYRFALCON

 

Gyrfalcon is available as an ebook at Wilde City Press

 

 

 

GIVEAWAY

Comment here and get an entry in a rafflecopter to win an Amazon gift card (drawn when the blog tour is over at the end of March).

 

RAFFLECOPTER

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http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code

 

In addition, one commentator chosen at complete close-eyes-stick-a-pin-in-it random will get their choice of a little pack of Gilded Scarab or Gyrfalcon loot and a free copy of FlashWired (a gay mainstream sci-fi novella).

 

 

 

ABOUT ANNA

Anna Butler was a communications specialist for many years, working in UK government departments on everything from marketing employment schemes to running an internal TV service. She now spends her time indulging her love of old-school science fiction. She lives in the ethnic and cultural melting pot of East London with her husband and the Deputy Editor, aka Molly the cockapoo.

 

Find Anna:

 

Website and Blog

Facebook

The Butler’s Pantry (Facebook Group)

Pinterest

Twitter

EM Lynley and Dirty Dining

I’m always thrilled to welcome EM! Here is the gorgeous cover for her latest release and the blurb. It’s a fun read! Check it out:

Jeremy Linden’s a PhD student researching an HIV vaccine. He’s always short of money, and when biotech startup PharmaTek reduces funding for his fellowship, he’s tempted to take a job at a men’s dining club as a serving boy. The uniforms are skimpy, and he’s expected to remove an item of clothing after each course.  He can handle that, but he soon discovers there’s more on the menu here than fine cuisine. How far will he go to pay his tuition, and will money get in the way when he realizes he’s interested in more from one of his gentlemen?

Brice Martin is an attorney for a Silicon Valley venture capital firm. When he’s asked to take a client to the infamous Dinner Club, he finds himself unexpectedly turned on by the atmosphere and especially by his server, Remy. He senses there’s more to the sexy young man than meets the eye. The paradox fascinates him, and he can’t get enough of Remy.

Their relationship quickly extends beyond the club and sex. But the trust and affection they’ve worked to achieve may crumble when Jeremy discovers Brice’s VC firm is the one that pulled the plug on PharmaTek—and Jeremy’s research grant.

Sassy stripper/sub-for-hire meets an FBI agent on the trail of a drug lord with a taste for BDSM.

From the moment they met, they were Bound for Trouble, from Dreamspinner Press

Sign up for EM’s Newsletter

EM Lynley — Gay Romance / Love Spans the Rainbow

 

“Toy Run” by Charley Descoteaux

Hello and thanks for having me, Skylar!

I’m visiting some of my wonderful friends to talk about my holiday story “Toy Run” and give away some goodies! The Rafflecopter will be open through December 19^th, and it’s packed with prizes—a hand-knit wool hat, Dreamspinner store credit, and, of course, books!

I’ve had Therapy!

Nope, not that kind (although it probably wouldn’t hurt).

Ian Bowen, my burly redheaded biker from “Toy Run”, is a certified physical therapist. I’ve been through PT three times in my life, and every one of those times had a cool “professional torturer” but never anyone quite like Ian. He’s a strong, silent type who thinks he’s idling below everyone’s radar—in fact, he’s pretty sure he has more than one or two things figured out, but life isn’t quite as black-and-white as he thinks.

I’m not going to spend a few hundred words telling you about the ways Ian’s ideas are skewed—you’ll have to read the story to find that out. This is about physical therapy and how great it is.

Yep, you read that right—how great it is. Two of my three stints in PT are in the running for the most painful things I’ve ever done that didn’t involve sex. I’d walk in the door knowing that within the next hour I’d do things that would make me hurt for the rest of the day. Sometimes I had to force myself, others it was easier (thoughts of Vicodin and regaining use of a limb will do that). But each time, I was lucky to draw a therapist who really cared that I was successful. They minimized the pain and maximized the benefits whenever they could, and we worked together to get me whole again. That’s who Ian is—he’s the guy who feels a deep satisfaction when a client gains another degree or two in their range of motion, the guy who’s happiest when he’s helping someone. I didn’t set out to write a thank-you story to all my physical therapists but I can give this one guy his happy ending, and that makes me happy too.

 

How about you? Have you known someone like that? A physical therapist or a teacher or a counselor who truly wanted to see you heal (or succeed, or fulfill your goal, whatever that may’ve been). Share your story in a comment for a Rafflecopter entry!

 

“Toy Run” by Charley Descoteaux

Former physical therapist and reluctant loner Ian Bowen has spent the three years since his grandfather’s death searching for a man to inspire him to park his Harley for a while—without much hope of finding him. On a whim, he shows up for a Toy Run and meets Ed Gonzalez, another loner with a pile of toys lashed to his bike. A few beers at the end-of-the-run party turn into an invite to Ed’s for homebrew. But instead of a night of fun, the unseasonable cold renders Ed immobile with pain. When he tells Ian he just needs meds, Ian does one of the things he does best—he massages Ed’s pain away, allowing him a rare restful night’s sleep and creating intimacy neither wants to lose. Ian thinks two men have to follow certain rules to be together, but Ed’s prepared to show him how wrong he is.

 

Excerpt:

“It’s okay. I know what I’m doing.”

“Just need a muscle relaxer and—”

“That’ll take too long.” It had been a while since my last session, and I’d never done a hip like his before, but it was startling how quickly the basics came back. I could almost see the paths his muscles and connective tissue took beneath his—oh my, shit, how fucking soft was his skin.

The first few touches made him shudder and sweat, but just as he opened his mouth to tell me to get my hands off him and stop making it worse, his body started to respond. A little bit of the tightness gave way, and he relaxed the tiniest bit.

“What you need isn’t an antispasmodic on top of beer, but regular soft tissue work.”

By then his eyes were closed, his chin pointed at the ceiling. “How’d you learn to do this?”

“I’m a licensed physical therapist in California.” One of my best tricks was to slip the painful maneuvers in while I was talking.

Ed cried out but didn’t make a move against me, so I didn’t stop.

“Professional torturer?” He panted, but his body had relaxed more than I thought possible in so short a time. “How long?”

“About ten years.” I moved my hands toward his thigh as I talked and found another pocket of tightness and scar tissue. He grunted and clenched his jaw even harder. “Quit almost three years ago. They couldn’t just leave me alone to help people, too much paperwork and meetings and a goddamned tie—once Granddad was gone, there wasn’t much point in sticking around there.”

I kept telling Ed my life story as I worked on his mangled body. Told him how my granddad kept me out of trouble with teardowns in the living room every winter and car restorations in the summer, and about his brother Oliver who’d been in The War. About having no direction after Granddad died, the guilt that threatened to take me out because I’d never found the stones to tell him anything that really mattered, and the panic because there I was, thirty-two years old, and all I knew about being gay could be summed up in the three-hour ride to a bar I’d taken once every few months since I turned twenty-one.

It wasn’t intentional, spilling my guts to this guy I’d just met, just an old habit coming back to haunt me. That had been the way to get the worst patients through their therapy so they could get back to the business of living. Distract them with chatter—any kind of chatter would do—and most of them were in so much pain I never worried about them remembering later. Not that I ever told any of them such personal shit, but even though I’d been on the road off and on for almost three years I didn’t have many interesting stories from it. Should’ve known better but I wasn’t thinking, just helping someone.

 

Thanks for reading!  Don’t forget to leave a comment below and enter the Rafflecopter!

 

Buy Toy Run: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4500

Rafflecopter:

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Where and When:

Nov. 29: Tempeste O’Riley

Dec. 1: Grace R. Duncan

Dec. 8: Jana Denardo

Dec. 10: Kim Fielding

Dec. 11: Amber Kell

Dec. 16: Anne Barwell

Dec. 18: Skylar Cates

 

Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived droughts, earthquakes, floods, and over a decade living in an area affectionately known (in her strange little world) as Portland’s middle finger, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.

Rattle Charley’s cages—she’d love to hear from you!

Blog:  http://cdescoteauxwrites.com/blog/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/charley.descoteaux.3

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/CharleyDescote

Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/aqe7g7r

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/charleydescote/

e-mail: c.descoteauxwrites@gmail.com

 

Audiobook and Thanksgiving Treat

Hello all,

I am giving away 1 audiobook (The Guy From Glamour ) to the first reader to comment here on my blog. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

*The Last Guy Breathing (third in the Guy series) is available right now on Amazon too! Holiday Hoax is on the DSP page. Here are some links:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5747

 

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5801

 

http://www.amazon.com/Last-Guy-Breathing-ebook/dp/B00PT79726/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1416851969&sr=1-1&keywords=the+last+guy+breathing

 

 

L.J. LaBarthe Visit

Thanks for having me, Skylar! This blog post, I’m going to talk about music.

Music is and always has been very important to me, one of my planned tattoos will actually be the phrase ‘Music is life’ in Mandarin Chinese. As a child, I played piano, and as a teen, I discovered rock ‘n’ roll—punk rock, to be precise, and nothing was the same again! I’m sure my family despaired at my musical tastes, listening to bands with ever-more outlandish names (seeing the look on my father’s face when I, at age 14, brightly told him that the “zombie music,” as he called it, was being played by a band called Scraping Fetus Off The Wheel… well, it was a priceless, Kodak moment!). I wore more black and dyed my hair various bright colours, from a purple mohawk to having hot pink hair, then later, a green fringe, later again, bright blue streaks in black hair, and finally settling on the traffic light red that I’ve kept my hair colour for decades. My father wrinkled his nose when I got my eyebrow pierced, then sighed; my mother let out the most epic of “Only my daughter” sighs when I got my first tattoo. They knew that really, punk was going to be a major part of my life from the day I bought home “Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols” on cassette.

 

And they were right, really, because even though I continued to play the piano, and played classical composers such as Rachmaninov, Beethoven, Bach and Schubert, I would listen to my loud, screechy, “zombie music,” and be utterly content. In my thirties, a colleague asked me what the hell I saw—or heard—in such a “cacophony,” and I told him what I have always believed and stood by. There is beauty in the chaos and incredible intricacies in phrasing and music composition. That what sounds like a wall of noise to him, to me, is aural art.

 

Subsequently, whenever I write, I have music. Sometimes, I put playlists together, on the great little site, 8tracks.com, which I found via friend/colleague/fellow author Andrea Speed. Her tastes and mine are very similar! Likewise, my old friend, Meredith Shayne and I have discussed our various playlists, recommended bands to each other and laughed like hyenas as we reminisced about venues in Sydney we both went to in the late 1980s and early 1990s. I had wonderful conversations with both Skylar here and Cate Ashwood about punk rock as they were working on, “Five Ways a Boy Can Break Your Heart.”

 

So, with all this lead-up, you know where I’m going, right? The playlist for “The Bone Cup,” the latest release and last (for now!) book in The Archangel Chronicles, has been crafted and I’ll probably put it together on 8tracks.com at some point… when I’m not battling the flu. (It’s an epic battle, my arsenal of weapons includes copious amounts of vitamin C.) However, as that will be in a while, I wanted to share it now. So here is the song list and YouTube links for music that fits the mood, tone and narrative of “The Bone Cup,” and the second trilogy in The Archangel Chronicles. I hope you all enjoy listening to this collection, and maybe find some new bands!

 

Summer Rain – Alphaville https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-t0qbpc73Ec

Barkhammer – The Mark of Cain https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQGvt0-KiHE

Follow Me – Muse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5kH0OEJxUlE

One Diamond, One heart – Smashing Pumpkins https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ciXDBlIQqwo

Call Me – Shinedown  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zudYsJQAXjM

Heartlines – Florence and the Machine  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waiB8mWOJOA

Symphony for the Quiet – Serenity https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tlHOHp1vlZM

Ai Si Ni – Karen Mok https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugVM15c_DLc

Slav’sia Rus – Arkona https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaP1wDvkA6E

Conquistador – 30 Seconds to Mars https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNJdm4mG8AU

End of the World – Matt Abler http://youtu.be/bTvJdpkdLiw

Throw Your Arms Around Me – DAAS (Doug Anthony All Stars) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-j0g2oG_w2g

Crossfire – Brandon Flowers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AhU12zC8fc

Vision – Yoo Seung Jun https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNgcyZYHWSE

Atmosphere – Joy Division https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EdUjlawLJM

 

***

THE BONE CUP

Sequel to The Crystal Lake

Archangel Chronicles: Book Six

 

Gabriel and Michael, hand in hand and leading the Brotherhood of Archangels, the Venatores, and the Archdemon Guild of Glass Knives, march into the mouth of madness to retrieve the Holy Grail with the blessings of both God and Lucifer. They cross dimensions and battle for the future of all realities: Heaven, Hell, Earth and Purgatory.

 

In Purgatory they are reunited with Naamah and meet her children, who are terrified of her. One of her allies is an angel, but they can’t identify the traitor. Gabriel faces his worst fear when Michael is injured and he might lose the unwavering comfort Michael embodies. If Gabriel cannot save the Holy Grail, he risks losing more than his one true love—all of creation might be destroyed along with them.

 

eBook: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5071

Paperback: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5072

 

L. J. LABARTHE BIO.

 

L.J. LaBarthe is a French-Australian woman, who was born during the Witching Hour, just after midnight. From this auspicious beginning, she went on to write a prize-winning short story about Humpty Dumpty wearing an Aussie hat complete with corks dangling from it when she was six years old. From there, she wrote for her high school yearbook, her university newspaper, and, from her early teens to her twenties, produced a fanzine about the local punk rock music scene. She loves music of all kinds and was once a classical pianist; she loves languages and speaks French and English and a teeny-tiny smattering of Mandarin Chinese, which she hopes to relearn properly very soon. She enjoys TV, film, travel, cooking, eating out, abandoned places, urbex, history, and researching.

 

L.J. loves to read complicated plots and hopes to do complex plot lines justice in her own writing. She writes paranormal, historical, urban fantasy, and contemporary Australian stories, usually m/m romance and featuring m/m erotica. She has won a Rainbow Awards Honorable Mention and another award for Best Historical Gay Novel.

 

L.J. lives in the city of Adelaide, and is owned by her cat.

 

Twitter: @brbsiberia

Blog: http://misslj_author.livejournal.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lj.labarthe.9

Web: http://www.ljlabarthe.com/

8tracks: http://8tracks.com/star239

Cate Ashwood and Skylar M. Cates

I’m really excited to see the release of Five Ways a Boy Can Break Your Heart coming out in a few days on February 12th! It was amazing to work with Cate! We hope that our readers will enjoy Liam and Trey’s story.

Visiting EM’s blog

I’m visiting EM’s blog today to discuss The Guy From Glamour and food.

 

http://networkedblogs.com/Sje7G

Sophie Bonaste

BLURB:

Adam Jameson has always felt like an outsider in his own home, where his parents’ constant efforts to instill religious fervor have instead filled him with fear. Most of the time, he just wants to stay out of everybody’s way.  But when Adam is forced to volunteer at a homeless shelter his senior year in high school, everything changes. He’s introduced to people who care about more than religion and, as a result, he starts to come out of his shell. For the first time in his life, Adam finds people that he wants to be around.

Mickey Stafford lives on the streets, a teen kicked out by his parents for being gay. He comes to the shelter for food and medical care, and after they literally run into each other, the two boys strike up a friendship. As Mickey introduces his new friend to the world he lives in, Adam starts to question everything: his parents, their religion, even his own beliefs . Once Mickey kisses him, Adam starts soul-searching and finds his heart, which is full of love for Mickey. But these two young men will have their love put to the test, as they face a future of uncertainty and fear.

Interview With Sophie:

• How do you find your ideas?

I have no idea. The specifics of this story came to me right before I fell asleep one night. I guess my muse just has a good imagination.

• Do you plan it or wing it?

I mostly wing it. I do have a basic outline that I try to follow so I know where the story is ultimately ending, but all of the details are made up on the fly.

• What is your biggest pet peeve?

People who try to interrupt me when I’m writing. I have a hard enough time staying focusing, since I’m hyperactive. I don’t need more distractions.

• What is your main character’s best quality? Why?

Adam’s best quality is that he really does want to help people. He’s a good person and cares deeply about helping others, especially Mickey.

• What is his biggest vice?

Adam really doesn’t have a vice. He’s lived a very pure life. His biggest problem is that he is very sheltered and doesn’t fully understand how the world works.

• If your main character had one superpower, what would it be?

Adam’s superpower would probably be teleportation. He spends a lot of the book wishing that he was in a different situation, so I think that would be a good power for him. Of course, if he could teleport, there wouldn’t be a book!

• Do you enjoy revision or editing? Do you dread it?

Dread it! I absolutely hate editing. For me, the best part of writing is telling a story and, while I know it’s important, commas and their placement is not important in the overall telling.

• Do you like writing sex scenes? What heat level do you write?

I don’t like or dislike writing sex scenes. I just see it as part of the story. The heat level depends on the book. For example, this book has no sex scenes in it. The two teens in question are just going through too much. But I have written an adult novel, which has quite a few sex scenes. That book would probably be about a 4 out of 5 in terms of heat. But I’m sure that will be judged by others if it ever gets published.

• What insights to the publishing world can you pass on?

I think that everyone’s journey into publishing is different, but I have to say that I’ve absolutely loved working with the people at Dreamspinner and Harmony Ink. They have been fabulous. That being said, for anyone entering the world of publishing, be prepared to wait a long time. There is waiting at every stage and it is so very, very hard. Totally worth it, but very hard.

• Do you listen to music when you write?

I don’t really listen to music, but I do watch a lot of television. Typically, I put on either a show or a movie that I’ve seen before and listen to it. I like it better than music because it tells a story and can help me get unblocked if I get stuck. Sometimes, I even use actor’s names as the names for my secondary characters.

• Without spoiling us too much, what part of this novel did you enjoy writing the most?

Well, I can’t tell you the exact scene without giving a huge part of the book away. But I will just say Chapter 14. When everyone reads the book I’m sure they will see what I mean. There is a scene in that chapter that practically wrote itself. This novel went through about eight drafts and that one scene barely changed at all.

• What part was a struggle?

No part of this book was too bad to write. Adam and Mickey had a story that they wanted to tell and they made it very clear. Probably the hardest part was the second chapter. That chapter was originally about 5,000 words and I had to cut it down to about 3,500. There was a lot more in that chapter showing Adam and how he interacted with his peers at school that ended up getting cut. Trying to decide what to leave in and what to take out was tough.

• What are you currently working on?

Right now, I’m working on a new YA M/M series. The books are science fiction and very reflective of old-school sci-fi. The first book is currently entitled “Journey to Xibalta”.

• Where can people find you online?

Readers can find me on Twitter @SophieBonaste and Facebook under the name Sophie Bonaste. I also have a blog at sophiebonaste.blogspot.com, where readers can find writing updates, free reads and GIVEAWAYS! I can also be reached through e-mail at sophiebonaste@gmail.com.

Buy Link:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4285

• Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share?

Absolutely. Enjoy!

Excerpt:

“YOU are going to come and help me at the church tomorrow afternoon, aren’t you, Adam?”

Adam Matthew Jameson swallowed the steak in his mouth and looked at his mother from across the dining room table. Margaret Jameson was a beautiful woman for her age. She was very thin and her features very delicate; her skin was pale, as if she did not spend much time in the sun. Today, her shiny blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she was wearing a blue floral-print dress that brought out the color in her eyes. “I am sorry, Mother, but I will not be able to help. Tomorrow is the day I start work at the homeless shelter across town. I will be home for dinner at five thirty, but I will be volunteering prior to that.”

“Oh, I was hoping you would be able to help me,” his mother said with disappointment. “The tables we use for Bible study are so very heavy.”

“Margaret, leave the boy alone. He is doing the Lord’s work by helping at that shelter. I am sure Adam would be happy to help you set up the tables after dinner. We can just leave a little early for Bible Study and do it then. If you have everything else set up beforehand, it should not take long.”

“Yes, Matthew. I suppose you are right. As always.”

“Of course,” Matthew Jameson replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He shot his wife a look that could only be called a warning before turning his attention to his youngest child.

“Now, Elisabeth, why don’t you tell us how your day at school was?”

Adam, thrilled that the heat was now off him, refocused on his dinner. He loved his family, but somehow the nightly dinners always seemed like another cold war, everyone holding their breath, waiting for something or, in this case, someone, to blow up. Matthew was an imposing figure in many ways. At six foot three and tipping the scale at two hundred and fifty pounds, he was built more like a linebacker than an accountant. But what always put the Jameson family on edge was his personality. His father was quick to anger, brown eyes capable of igniting in rage in seconds. Adam had learned early on to avoid confrontation with his father and was usually successful, but there was something about him that sent chills down Adam’s spine.

“Father, did you hear there is a chance that Abigail Mallory is pregnant? The whole school is talking about it,” Elisabeth said.

“I certainly hope that is not true. I am friends with Abigail’s father. He is a good man, and he has raised his family the right way. If it is true that Abigail has sinned so egregiously against the Lord’s wishes, then it will bring great shame to his entire family. And I certainly hope that you were not one of these children gossiping about the wayward children in your school.”

“No, Father. I just thought you would want to know because I know you are acquainted with Mr. Mallory.”

“Good. Now is everyone finished?” the patriarch asked. Getting the three affirmative answers he was looking for, Matthew announced they would now be having their after-dinner prayer. Adam clasped hands with his parents and looked at his sister doing the same, the Jameson family forming a circle. Adam listened to the prayer, eyes closed and head bowed, adding in his own silent prayer, thanking the Lord for helping him get through yet another family dinner.

After the prayer had concluded, Adam and Elisabeth cleared and straightened up the table while their mother washed dishes. Matthew retreated to his office, refusing to take part in such domesticity. Between the three family members, it only took twenty minutes to clean everything up, and Adam was free to escape to his own sanctuary.

Adam walked through the spacious living room, shoes clacking on the hardwood floors. He never really liked hanging out in the living room. It always felt more like a museum than a place to hang out. The plain white couch and matching wing chairs were as unblemished as the day they were bought. All the wooden furniture in the room was the same shade, from the bookshelves that flanked the front window, to the end tables next to the couch and between the chairs. Everything was in order as he climbed the stairs, glancing at all the family portraits that lined the staircase walls. He quickly walked down the hallway past the bathroom and his parent’s room, just in case his father had come out of his downstairs office without him hearing. Seeing his father again was the last thing Adam wanted, even though he had no real justification for feeling that way. Finally, he reached the white door at the very end of the hall and, with an audible sigh of relief, slipped inside.

For as long as he could remember, Adam’s room was his sanctuary. There was no other way to describe it. It was the only place in the entire world Adam felt he could be himself. Of course, he had to keep the place neat, and he was not allowed to have many things that could be found in a normal teenager’s room, like posters of hot women, a television, or even sports equipment. As Adam looked around his room, he was reminded that he didn’t really have much at all. His twin-sized bed was in the middle of the room, neatly made with a light-blue duvet, a small brown nightstand by the head of the bed. His desk was on the opposite wall, his laptop closed in the middle and a stack of schoolbooks on the side. A simple set of drawers that matched the nightstand held most of his clothes, with everything else behind the white, sliding closet door. There was no personality in his room. It could have belonged to anyone. Even the brown bookshelf under the window did not have any unique books on its shelves, just the classics and many books on the Christian faith that had been approved by their church.

Adam leaned against the door, trying to let the tension of the day seep out of him. He started to unbutton the simple, green, button-up shirt he had worn to dinner. His father always required them to wear business-casual attire to dinner. He said it was important to look nice as a sign of respect to those around you. Adam did not think it was necessary. They were a family, and they loved each other. That should have circumvented the need to show respect in that manner, right? But Adam would never dare to cross his father. Though he would never admit it aloud, Adam was terrified of the man. The few times he had seen his father really mad, he had been afraid he would be witness to serious violence. Matthew Jameson had some very intense views on life, and when something around him clashed with those beliefs, he had a tendency to get very angry, very fast. Adam had been very lucky to avoid that rage so far, but he had been witness to it in the past. Especially after what his father had done to John….

No. Don’t go there, Adam thought fiercely. It is not going to end up like it did with John. I am not going to get kicked out like my brother.