Sunday, November 30, 2014

Thank You!

The nomination period for this year's Goodreads M/M Romance Group's Member's Choice Awards has just finished, and the first round of voting has begun. If you're a member--go vote now!

I was thrilled to see that two of my stories have been nominated. Gremlin's Last Run was nominated for both Best Paranormal and Best Sci Fi/Futuristic/Post-Apocalyptic/Steampunk, and Human Choices was nominated for Best Love's Landscapes Story. Thank you so much to the people who enjoyed my stories enough to nominate them!

Saturday, November 15, 2014

WIP Excerpt: Burn The Sky

By the time the sun had set, Garrik had had enough of breathing exercises, and his failure to master even the simplest one had him prickling at the Wytch Master’s every comment.

When Ilya calmly suggested he start again for perhaps the hundredth time, Garrik’s irritation finally bubbled over into anger. “Enough! What’s the point of this? How is this going to teach me to control the shift?”

Ilya said nothing, but regarded his student with an expectant expression, as if waiting for him to continue.

“Breathing is simple,” Garrik tried to explain, “and… and I don’t even have to think about it. Shifting is… it just happens. I can’t stop it.”

“But you can stop your breathing.”

Garrik stared at him helplessly. “It’s not the same thing.”

“It is very much the same thing. The difference is simply a matter of degree. Both your breath and the shift are within your control.”

He had nothing to say to that. How did one control something that was so utterly beyond control? Garrik wasn’t the one causing the shift — it was happening to him, whether he wanted it or not.

“Begin again,” Ilya said in that infuriatingly calm voice.

That cool air of superiority sent a surge of white hot fury coursing through Garrik.

As before, the shift began without warning. One moment, he was drawing breath to fuel a caustic tirade, the next he found himself in the grip of unspeakable pain. His anger turned to acidic fire racing through his blood, and his flesh began to stretch and tear.

He was dimly aware of his body changing shape and lifting into the air on wings of flame. Everything was fire, inside and out. Garrik burned, and so did the darkening sky.

Lost to the raging fire, Garrik forgot everything until a quiet song of ice wound its way through the inferno of madness. It was the only thing in the world that wasn’t made of flames, and it riveted his attention as it moved through him, dousing the fire, freezing the madness. Garrik clung to it, knowing the cold was the only thing that could save him.

A breath of icy vapor ghosted across his burning skin, and huge frost-rimed wings wrapped around him, smothering the flames in their dark embrace.

The ice took the pain with it, and when Garrik came back to his senses, he was lying on the cold stone of the watchtower roof. There were arms around him, and a warm, male body pressed against his back. With a start, Garrik realized that he was naked and so was the man who held him.

His body responded with shocking swiftness, and Garrik turned over and pulled the man to him. A different kind of heat surged through him as his mouth moved over warm flesh.

The man in his arms responded to his touch, arching against him and turning his face to meet Garrik in a heated kiss. Garrik’s hands moved to explore slender limbs, narrow hips, and long, tousled hair—

The man tore his mouth away from Garrik’s and let out a needy whimper. Garrik caught a flash of pale eyes in the moonlight and a glint of copper hair.


It was the Wytch Master he held in his arms, the Wytch Master who writhed and moaned at his touch.

Garrik jerked back, shoving Ilya away from him. “What in Aio’s name—?” His voice sounded rough and harsh in his ears.

Ilya stared at him with wide, stunned eyes for a long, frozen moment before turning away and rolling gracefully to his feet. Before Garrik could say a word, Ilya turned on his heel and strode toward the stairs that led down into the watchtower.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

NaNo 2014: In Which I Attempt to Warp Space and Time

Since I started this blog a couple of years ago, I've gone from having absolutely no one in my life who writes, to having a huge on-line community of M/M writers that I hang out with, get inspiration and advice from, and generally have a good time with.

These guys are awesome, and when a bunch of them started getting excited about NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) I started thinking about it. I might have even mentioned that it looked like it would be fun, but I have a ton of Family Stuff to deal with later this month, and I didn't think I could manage it.

Then I started thinking about how I have all my releases planned for 2015 except there's this big hole in the summer labelled Still To Be Written Fantasy Novel.

Next thing I knew, I was all signed up.

So this will be the month when I shall attempt to bend the laws of physics to my will, warping space and time in such a way that I create a little bubble of writing time that's all my own.

50K in a month?

No sweat.

The project is tentatively titled "Leythe-Blade", and it will be another story that fits into the tapestry I've started weaving in Human Frailties, Human Strengths, and Human Choices.

Here's a brief description:

Sasha is a healer with dreams of being a warrior. When he takes up his grandmother's sword in order to defend his Clan from attack, he gets far more than he bargained for. The sword--Ryka--is a leythe-blade, a magical weapon with the power to send gentle Sasha into a ruthless, killing frenzy. When the berserker rage subsides, Sasha finds himself the sole survivor of the attack.

A healer with blood on his hands does not deserve to live, and all Sasha wants to do is crawl away and die. Ryka has other ideas; Sasha is now her bond-mate, and she will do whatever it takes to keep him alive.

Lukas is a mercenary soldier, charged with protecting his commander’s younger brother on a journey through the Middle Kingdoms. When Lukas and Gwydion find Sasha alone and in agony, Gwydion's prophetic visions tell him that Sasha's survival is vital to the future. Gwydion's visions are seldom wrong, so Lukas turns his mind to helping Sasha find meaning in the tattered remains of his life.

But the last thing the shattered young healer wants is a reason to live, and the last thing Lukas expects is to
become Sasha's reason to live.

If all goes well, you can look for it sometime in the summer. Now, I'm off to down a pot of coffee and get on with this time-warping thing. Can't be that hard. They do it on Star Trek all the time.