Molly Church

News, and Going Dim

2010-05-03T13:26:00.000-07:00

But not going dark -- more on that below.

News first:

The BIG news is:
Brown: Grisaille in Sand and Sunset is out from Torquere Press!

In smaller news:
1.) Pentimento: Poppy is now available from All Romance Ebooks.
2.) Gray: Grisaille in Stone and Sky is written, and has gone off to the editor.
3.) I am Torquere Press' Featured Author until May 7th.

In not-fun news, this blog is going dim for a while -- it's not because I haven't been putting up something new weekly, though it's for the same reason:

I'm in pain, and an awful lot of it. Getting Grisaille in Gray done was excruciating, and I've learned that voice-recognition does not work for me, for writing fiction. It works (when it works, which is not all the time, either, for other reasons) for posts and email.

So I'm going to be taking time away from the computer, not just typing. There may be odd posts occasionally, but I will not be trying to update weekly. I apologize for this, but it's largely out of my control -- the only part that I do have control over is trying to heal, and I have to take responsibility for that.

Free Story: The Queen and the Soldier

2010-03-20T12:32:00.000-07:00

Originally written for the Torquere Social Happy Hour, "The Queen and the Soldier" is a short >1K m/m story written to the prompts supplied by various members.

***

"Justin wouldn't allow anyone underage in here, would he?" Xavier's voice was low, but clouded with worry.

"No," Dylan said, certain that Justin would not, and this wasn't the kind of place you could possibly sneak into. Or out of, for that matter. "Where?" he asked.

"Seven o'clock, talking to Matt's sister," Xavier said, looking down and sipping his coffee, as though casually, as Dylan turned around.

She was quite short, but nothing about the dark-haired woman standing with Rebecca suggested youth to Dylan. She was dressed in screamingly expensive clothes and jewelry - the emerald on her hand alone was worth more than his annual salary and the cut of her velvet gown suggested experience in matters of taste. When she flicked her gaze to him, though, he could see why Xavier asked; she had the face of a child.

"I'll ask Justin about her," he promised his lover, brushing a wisp of Xavier's hair back from his forehead, before planting a kiss on it.

"Can we play tonight?" Xavier whispered quietly as Dylan kissed him. "When we get home?"

Dylan heard the edge in his lover's voice. He was feeling it too. There wouldn't be much of tonight left when they finally left the castle, but Dylan knew what Xavier meant. "Yes," he promised softly.

***

She was humming the tune to "The Queen and the Soldier" when he walked into her room, but to Justin it had all the warning effect of "Don't ask her on a straight tequila night." He suppressed a shudder as she turned to him, eyes the color of spring grass glittering in the low light of the lamp. Her smile was brief as she acknowledged him. She turned back to the window as he walked toward her.

Over her shoulder he could see a yacht in the distance; dawn had already broken, and sunrise itself was not far off. There was a bird resting on the windowsill. Justin thought it was a sparrow; it flew off as she dropped the heavy curtain and turned to face him.

"Your friends?" she murmured as she fingered the embroidered cloth. Crocuses and waratahs slipped between her fingers before she stopped toying with it.

"Asked about you, yes," Justin admitted.

"Xavier was exquisite at the masque." Yes, he had been, Justin knew. He knew her love for a beautiful performance. "Dylan, as well."

Justin nodded.

"Bring me someone," she sighed.

"Male or female?" he asked, though he could guess her answer based on her mood.

"I leave it to your discretion," she said. He turned to go. "I will require your attendance," she added.

He nodded. As he walked to the door, he heard her turn back to the window.

Saturday is like an extra Friday

2010-03-20T12:09:00.001-07:00

I'm pretty sure this really will be a short round up, unlike last week's short round up.

For those curious, my speech recognition software is still making my teeth clench, which is at least a different kind of repetitive strain injury. But moving along to the interesting news (some of which I have already covered):

1.) I have a new website (which is to say, I have a website): www.mollychurch.com. Please check it out.

2.) I have a new release, Pentimento: Poppy, available from Torquere Press.

2b) If you're interested in an excerpt or a "sexy snippet" for Poppy both are available (just follow the links).

2c) An extra scene, which doesn't appear in Poppy is also available.

3.) Another free story in the Dylan and Xavier semi-series was written on Wednesday (St. Patrick's Day) in honor of release day. It follows in a separate post.

New Release - Pentimento: Poppy is OUT NOW

2010-03-17T07:56:00.000-07:00

Pentimento: Poppy (10700 words and published by Torquere Press), is out now.

To celebrate that, and St. Patrick's Day, I'm throwing a bit of a party on the Happy Hour LJ.

In other news, I have a website: www.mollychurch.com. Please check it out!

Fortnightly roundup

2010-03-12T06:22:00.000-08:00

Not such terribly big round up this time, though I have been busy. Still, it's the kind of busy that takes an awful lot of time but isn't necessarily all that interesting to talk about.

Point the first: Software :/
I am still having problems with repetitive strain injury (RSI), but I do now have software for speech recognition. It's pretty good if I remember to use a normal-ish volume for my speaking voice, but actually I tend to speak fairly quietly what I'm talking to myself, which is what it feels like I'm doing. I expected to have problems with pacing, by which I mean I expected the software not be able to keep up with what I want to write. This is not such big problem, especially since I have now switched off the automatic punctuation. It is a bigger problem when I'm writing fiction, because I do type much faster than software works, but it works fine for blog posts and e-mail, and reasonably well for chatting via text in gchat and Skype.

Aside from the issue of volume, the software does not like it if I forget I'm talking to it and speak with any emotion in my voice whatsoever, which has the side effect of making me wonder if the people I talk to are equally annoyed by the sound of my voice. Yes, I have begun to think that the software sentient, and furthermore has something of a cruel sense of humor. this was not helped by discovering chapters of 2001: A Space Odyssey in the training section of the software tools.

Point the second: Editing :)
I have discovered I love editing. This is not something I would have expected of myself; honestly, I was fully prepared to find it nothing more than a necessary chore. It is necessary, because nobody catches all their own mistakes. Also, an editor can point out something that isn't necessarily an error, but also doesn't necessarily work as well as it seems to him the author's omniscient standpoint, because the context simply does not exist in the story.

But for me I think it goes deeper than that -- I love words. I love sentences. I love punctuation. I love looking at them, and fiddling with them, and making them work together. It's like loving apples and cinnamon and cream and pastry, all each individually, but toying with them over and over in different combinations to create subtle variations on apple pie. An editor becomes in many ways a taste tester, a second set of taste buds who can point out that not everyone loves cinnamon as much as you do and that maybe you should cut it back a bit, or that you're being stingy with the sugar, or that if you add any more fat, the pie is going to need to come with a warning. After all, you can always make the cinnamon loaded version for yourself, but you'd like your guests to enjoy this pie.

I am also reminded of Neil Gaiman's comparison between writing and building dry stone walls ( which you can find here):

A dry-stone wall is a lovely thing when you see it bordering a field in the middle of nowhere but becomes more impressive when you realise that it was built without mortar, that the builder needed to choose each interlocking stone and fit it in. Writing is like building a wall. It's a continual search for the word that will fit in the text, in your mind, on the page. Plot and character and metaphor and style, all these become secondary to the words. The wall-builder erects her wall one rock at a time until she reaches the far end of the field. If she doesn't build it it won't be there. So she looks down at her pile of rocks, picks the one that looks like it will best suit her purpose, and puts it in.

The editor is also a bit like a friend, or stranger, who comes along after a long day, when the light is growing dim, and who points out that maybe this rock is better than the other. They are very often right.

Anyway, I'm off to do more editing. And I'm going to enjoy it. But that brings me back to my first point, about software: I'd really like a copy of white smoke, one of the versions that recognize and correct dyslexic writing mistakes. That would be awesome. Though I have a funny feeling that the mistakes the speech recognition software introduces into my text would just confuse it. It might be something to hold off on until I'm back to typing full-time.

Oh, and PS -- I love this, too:

Perfectionists like chasing the horizon;
You kept perfection, gave the rest to us,
so let me earn the wisdom to move on.
...
Lord, let me be brave, and let me, while I craft my tales, be wise:
let me say true things in a voice that is true,
and, with the truth in mind, let me write lies.
-from Neil Gaiman's Writer's Prayer

Try, try again

2010-02-26T08:08:00.000-08:00

Aside from apparently having some black hole in my memory where the fact that it is Friday falls in, I have had two good reasons for not being properly up-to-date with my blog - my apologies.

Reason the first: I am having a real problem with RSI, making it important to prioritize story-writing. I am still having problems there (although I may be investing in some speech recognition software - I hope to try it out today), so this will be a short post.

Reason the second: I had news, but wasn't ready to share it. Well, it wasn't sharing-ready. It is now.

News:
1.) Grisaille in Brown is out on April 28th. The title is Brown: Grisaille in Sand and Sunset.
1b) I just got, yesterday, the cover-art request form (for Grisaille in Brown). I'd seen it already, so it wasn't like I didn't know what to expect - but it was surprisingly hard to pin down what I wanted to say. I'll definitely be filling them out in advance, in future. But the really interesting thing for me wasn't just the filling out the form, and musing on what the cover might look like (though that was fun). The really interesting thing was that it was just how hard it was to answer some of the questions. I really think that thinking about those questions in advance will help me as a writer, and that was something very cool to discover.

2.) Those keeping up at home may remember that Grisaille in Brown is the first part of a two part (I hesitate to say series, because the stories do stand alone, but) series, and that Grisaille in Gray is out in September. BUT! There is another piece rounding out our tale, currently called Pentimento: Poppy, with is an interlude, of sorts, between Brown and Gray. Again, they all stand alone, and I think there are advantages that Poppy is out first, in terms of storytelling, regardless of chronology.
2b) Pentimento: Poppy should be out, all going well, March 17th, which yes, is St. Patrick's day (come along to the Torquere Social Happy Hour that day!)

3.) Speaking of the Happy Hour, I will be there the following days:
Tues. March 9th
Weds. March 17th
Thur. April 22nd
Weds. April 28th

Okay, back to Grisaille in Gray - which, please be patient if/when you see me writing it as 'Grey' here, as grey is the default spelling of gray in my head - but the title is 'Gray'.

If at first you don't succeed

2010-02-07T03:49:00.000-08:00

Yes, I forgot the Friday-blogging thing the very first Friday after I announced it. But, in my defense I was VERY busy Friday, writing something, but it's a little bit of a secret. Hopefully I can say more next week.

Free Story: Facade

2010-01-29T13:57:00.000-08:00

Originally written for the Torquere Social Happy Hour, "Facade" is a short >1K m/m story written to the prompts supplied by various members.

***

The club was a mind fuck, Dylan decided. Xavier was right; the club did look like a castle, and moreover, the grounds like a church yard. There were bone-fide gargoyles perched on the façade. With the only light coming from the cathedral-style windows, it didn't seem impossible that the gargoyles might move. Dylan cupped his hands around his cigarette as he lit it, an attempt to protect it from the brisk wind.

"You shouldn't be out in the rain," Xavier said as he came to a stop next to him; Dylan startled a little; Xavier could be cat like, and it was all unconscious. "There's a smoking room inside."

"I just needed some fresh air," Dylan said.

Xavier said nothing; he didn't need to say anything - the flick of his gaze from Dylan's eyes to fingers and back said it all. "Did you want to be alone?" Xavier asked after a moment.

"No," Dylan shook his head. "Not apart from you, anyway." He sat on the steps, and Xavier joined him. "You were right. This place is kind of eerie." He hadn't noticed it much when they'd been there for the New Year's Eve masquerade - where it had previously glittered, now it seemed to loom. Maybe it was the lack of decoration, or the smaller group, or something else entirely - but there was something a little lonely, and a little forbidding about the place. What had previously struck Dylan as romantic now just seemed isolated, and perhaps, not very wise, or very safe. "Do you wish we hadn't come?" He asked Xavier aloud, in lieu of asking himself, quietly.

He wasn't entirely certain how to interpret the look Xavier gave him. Dubious? Thoughtful? Something else again? He knew Xavier had enjoyed himself at the masquerade, wasn't entirely sure Xavier hadn't agreed to come to the club a second time, except to please him. But all Xavier said was, "No."

"We could leave," Dylan offered. It was probably true, after all - though it would be a pain in the ass to organize, he knew, and it would be very unlikely they'd ever get another invitation.

"What's brought this on?" Xavier asked quietly.

And honestly, Dylan couldn't say. There was just something odd about the place, now that he really looked at it. A little morbid, almost, standing in this graveyard-like place. He shrugged. "They probably do an awesome Halloween party," he said instead.

But Xavier surprised him; Xavier, who usually followed his lead, didn't let it drop. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Dylan tried to sound assuring. "Just having an oddly thoughtful moment."

"This place is an inspiration for 'oddly thoughtful moments'," Xavier agreed, looking around. "But we should probably go back inside. It's cold out here, and it's not really fair to Matt and Josh."

Dylan looked at the cigarette in his hand, and crushed it out. "Yeah," he agreed, and immediately felt a pang of remorse - both because he was a being a bad guest, and because he was being a bad example to his younger, much less worldly lover.

There was no place to get rid of the cigarette outside, but the doorman whisked it from him almost before Dylan had noticed his offer. Bizarre. He murmured his thanks as he passed.

Justin, looking debonair as always, dashed down the staircase. "Ah, good. I was just coming to find you," he said. "We're about to start seating for dinner." He looked at his watch. "Well - very soon now." And then he dashed off, a whirlwind of activity.

"Does Justin have a stake in this place?" Xavier asked, very quietly.

Dylan shrugged. "I believe he's friends with the owner." But that could mean anything, with Justin. It had been Justin who'd gotten him their invitations to the masquerade, without which he was uncertain they'd have gotten invitations to Matt's collaring tonight.

"Who's the blonde by herself?" Xavier asked after a moment. "I meant to ask you earlier - I over heard someone asking Justin about her, and he seemed surprised to see her here."

Dylan followed the line of Xavier's eyes to a blonde woman in dress more severe then sexy - black with embroidery in shades of gray. "Matt's sister. He was probably surprised because she hasn't been involved in the scene in a couple of years."

"Not surprised because it's Matt's sister? At his collaring?" Xavier's voice was low, though incredulous, but Dylan still cringed.

Yes, it was strange - surpassing strange, really. The things you do when you're desperate, and destitute, and scared you're disposable. Matt had told him one night, intoxicated and sad in that way that can suddenly come upon the most cheerful drunk. But it wasn't a story he could repeat, here and now. Or even one he was sure he should repeat, at all. "I'll explain when we get home."

2010-01-29T13:53:00.000-08:00

I used to be such an organised person. Anyway, in the spirit of organization, I think I shall name Fridays as my blogging day. Well, we'll try it for a while, and see how it goes.

First! some catching up.

I, on a rather spur of the moment whim, took over the Torquere Social list for another day - I don't think I'll do it again until April, though, as I do feel a bit silly, with nothing new out recently. But, it meant another installment of Dylan and Xavier, and their world is becoming increasingly clear - and murky, too, but that's worlds for you - to me. I'll put that up in a bit.

Second, what I'm working on at the moment... well, actually, my brain is hopping with ideas, which is always good - wonderful, actually - but it does make settling down to work on one thing very difficult. Fortunately, deadlines come in handy for this sort of thing, so what I am working on is Grisaille in Gray, but I'm not entirely sure what do start on after that. I think I know what it will be, but we'll see.

Free Story: The Club on the Cliff

2009-12-30T07:35:00.000-08:00

Bleurg. So. Tired.

Acts of god and war, indeed - well, acts of tiny virtually immortal biological agents anyway.

But I'm mostly better now. Today's update will probably not include the fabled story I started writing for my Torquere day - and if I don't get it done soon, it'll probably have to keep til next year, and nobody wants that. Although I suppose early in the new year would still be okay - but although it's not Christmas themed, it is Christmassy. You'll see why when you see it.

Anyway, enough whining. There is plenty of time yet.

So! Today's update will include a repost of my latest prompt story (another Dylan and Xavier story, and for those curious, yes, there might be more to their story at some point, though it's unlikely to be at any point very soon).

I will also update my lj (including with my previous post, which I failed to copy over due to an attack of extreme featherheadedness).

But, onto Dylan and Xavier.

Written to the prompts supplied here.

***

The buffet laid out at the castle - for castle was all it could be described as; 'the club on the cliff', despite Justin's pithy turn of phrase, was not nearly descriptive enough - the buffet was exquisite: crab cakes, caviar and champagne to start, followed by a platter of poultry - goose, and duck, turkey and chicken, and quail - and an oak table laden with desserts that Xavier could not identify - though he was pretty sure that one of them - the one dotted with pretty red berries - was cheesecake - stood next to it.

No simple candy-cane shaped jello molds here. Or jello shots, for that matter. He wasn't entirely sure what Justin liked about this place.

Xavier eyed the champagne wistfully, and wondered if Dylan would allow him some, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to ask. The way some of the subs had, ah, ingested the champagne was a little too rich for his blood, even for his open-to-public-kink self.

This place was glittery and beautiful, but it was eerie and strange too.

Sort of like the caviar, really, Xavier thought.

"You're staring," Dylan said, suddenly beside him, but it was clear from his tone of voice he was amused, not angry - though Dylan wasn't prone to anger, particularly, but still, Xavier watched for it. "Are you that hungry?"

"A little," Xavier said.

"You can eat, you know," Dylan said, turning to look at him, concern clearly writ across his face. Xavier hated having put it there.

He forced himself to try to act like a normal person would. "I thought maybe it would better to wait until after we'd played to eat," he said. "I always get a bit butterfly-effect, you know, in public."

Dylan quirked a brow, and Xavier suppressed a sigh. So much for passing as normal. Dylan knew him too well, now. He went to wipe his hands on his jeans, a nervous habit Dylan was still trying to break him (though very gently) of, before he remembered that he wasn't wearing jeans. He wasn't wearing leather, either, because this was a weird club, with weird rules, having a weird party. They were all dressed up in bizarre and complex costumes, even the subs - though he supposed it made the stripping part of the evening more interesting. He'd find out soon enough for himself.

A New Year's Eve masquerade ball. It sounded romantic, Xavier would grant, and it really was an extraordinary event, but all the same, Xavier wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to be there. Still, he couldn't say anything - Justin had somehow gotten Dylan invited, and Dylan was over the moon - invitations for non-members were impossibly rare for this party -

"Blue moon tonight, did you know?" Dylan said quietly, and Xavier saw that his lover was staring out the window at it - it seemed unusually low and bright to him. "Seems even more special, doesn't it?"

Xavier couldn't say that it seemed even more eerie, so he just nodded.

"Nervous about playing tonight?" Dylan asked, always attentive.

Wordlessly, Xavier shook his head. "Excited about it." In truth, he was both - he was always a bit nervous because it was public, but at the same time, he felt an odd sort of alive under the gaze of an audience. He knew, too, that he performed well under pain.

"Let's go in, then," Dylan said. "And then I we will find someplace lovely to sit and I will hand feed you. Does that sound good?" Always, "does that sound good", not "if you are good". Even when being cruel Dylan was somehow also always kind.

Xavier nodded.

Entering the playroom, they passed a girl tied up in tinsel, though the tiny Tux-the-Penguin tattoo did somewhat mar the Dickensian illusion.

Dylan had claimed them a space, and a cedar chest, like a late Christmas present, sat nearby, mysterious and unopened. Had Dylan brought it? Xavier didn't know. From it, his lover withdrew black satin ropes, and quickly secured him to the heavy iron ring. Xavier strained against the bonds, flexing his lithe muscles, and Dylan smiled widely.

A candle followed from the box, and Xavier knew it would soon be lit, and in use, and he shivered in anticipation of that sweet sensation. The knife was a surprise, and Xavier's breath quickened. That anguish would be exquisite.

He returned Dylan's smile with one of his own.

New Year's Eve 2009 is a blue moon, did you know?

grisaille in virtual ink

2009-12-18T06:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, so finally, an update! I should warn you, it's on the convoluted side.

So, a few weeks back I was talking about having two short stories coming out next year, for Torquere's new Color Box line. Actually, it turns out, they're a minimum of 10,000 words - so the stories are now just "stories" and not so much with the "short" part - but more about that later.

More to the point, in the last post I was really struggling to come up with some way of summarizing my story - and I figured out why. The story wasn't working. And sometimes you get the feeling a story isn't working, and it's just not working for you right now, and you learn not to drop a story because of that and to push on. And that's an important lesson to learn. But the one that comes after that one, that sometimes, no, the story really isn't working, and it's time to drop it and move on, is also important. (Maybe not just as important - because learning to finish things is probably the most important thing you can learn to do as a writer.)

It wasn't that the story was bad - it was actually quite good, and there were a number of directions I could have taken it in. I thought at first that that's were the problem was, that I wasn't entirely sure which direction in which to take the world building, and that's where the problem was. So I continued with the writing, ingnoring the big world building questions, and just concentrated on the character scenes. And it still wasn't working. And I finally figured out why, and knew it was time to do something else. Nothing was going to make this story work.

So I could either restart the story, and hope the new version worked (that seemed unlikely), or start a completely new story. One of those sounds like a lot more work than the other, but it really depends.

The major issue here was that I had signed a contract, with a title, for a specific theme. I'd had a story in mind when I did that: could I come up with something else that matched the theme and title?

Actually, yes. Nearly as soon as I dropped the story I knew I couldn't write, I had a new idea. A few hours later, most of the world building was done.

But I only had ten days left to write the story. A bit of pressure, sure, because I also had other things I was supposed to do, but far from being the end of the world. The story was only supposed to be 10K long (remember, at this point, I'd missed the small detail that it could be much, much longer).

I wrote that 10K in the ten days I had. But I still had more story to tell, and no time to do it in, and no idea how far over the 10K I could get without it becoming a problem for my editor.

So I emailed my editor, asking for an extra couple of days - she gave me fifteen, and reassured me that 10K was a minimum, not a maximum. I was elated.

I got the story in, but man was I glad for those fifteen days - the story continued to grow. And I'll be honest, it could be longer. It's just over 18K now, and there were some scenes I'd have liked to write, but couldn't, and one that had to be removed because although it was a nice scene, it didn't really make sense if you didn't include some of the other scenes I didn't get to write. I don't know - I might be able to add some of that back in in the editing phase - I'm still very new to all of this.

But at the moment, it's 18K long.

The working title is still Grisaille in Brown (it does have another title, but I'm keeping that one under my hat until I know whether it will be the final one). It comes out in May 2010, I do believe, and it's sequel, Grisaille in Grey comes out in September. And if Brown is any indication, and my editor has no objections, I think Grey might very well end up novel length, which is very exciting for me.

Coming up with a non spoilery summary is still a problem. In any case, Grisaille is sci-fi (and male/male).

I should point out, this is the sort of sci-fi where Earth does not figure into the story at all - like in Star Wars, for example, there is no Earth. Also, like Star Wars, the characters are human. I won't pretend that this is the most rigorous piece of hard sci-fi, but I did attempt to lean to the hard side. This is not, by the way, a slur on sci-fi fantasy, which I adore - I mention this only as a way, I guess, of describing where on the continuum of sci-fi this particular story falls.

Grisaille in Brown is entirely told from the point of view of Corvo, a historian with his homeworld's (Tiberia's) Bureau of Diplomatic Affairs, and describes his journey to Biryan, and his meeting with the young soldier-slave Ardán, and of how they come to fall in love. Grisaille in Grey will (well, this is the plan at the moment - and book plans, like those for battle, do not survive contact with the enemy) - Grisaille in Grey will not follow on immediately from Brown, but be set a little into the future, and a little more into their relationship, and will be told entirely from Ardán's point of view.

Aside from their love story, Grisaille is also a story about war, and diplomacy, and violence, and language, and history, and duty and family and obligation, and I'm very much looking forward to writing the next part.

(I'm actually even looking forward to doing the edits, that's how much I'm enjoying this story.)

So, update!

Oh, there might actually be another post today/tomorrow - I think there's something I've forgotten. But I will add a reminder that I will be hosting the Torquere Social Happy Hour on Torquere's livejournal next week, on Tuesday the 22nd, and there's a very short story in the works in honor of that (I'll cross post it here, as well), and I will probably be willing to write a little flash fiction to prompts, too.

Okay, that's the update.

Free Story: Of Wax and Waffles

2009-11-05T02:50:00.000-08:00

Originally written for the Torquere Social Happy Hour, "Of Wax and Waffles" is a short >1K m/m story written in about 3 hours to the prompts supplied by various members.

***

Dylan woke to the smell of something wonderful coming from the kitchen - his kitchen, which he shared with no-one - and he smiled. No awkward goodbyes awaited him then, at least not immediately on opening his eyes.

He picked up his jeans off of the floor - he hadn't discarded them there, yesterday, when he'd dressed for the club, but it seemed that they'd used his bedroom pretty hard in their fun last night.

Xavier had used the kitchen hard, too, Dylan thought on arrival. He'd dug out the waffle iron Dylan had bought two years prior, and never opened. He'd made the batter by hand - the eggshells sat on counter and there was flour everywhere, including on Xavier, who was dressed in his own tight jeans, but one of Dylan's t-shirts. His feet were bare, and he'd left little Xavier-shaped footprints over half the floor.

He watched Xavier for a while - his dark hair was cropped short, and Dylan knew that bar Xavier's head, his pale skin was smooth. As he watched, Xavier's petit frame stretched to reach the maple syrup high on the shelves.

Dylan took mercy. "I'll get that," he said, as he swept into the kitchen.

"Oh, thanks," Xavier said, uncertainly.

Dylan reminded himself that Xavier was new to all of this - still, in many respects, somewhat virginal. "Smells divine," Dylan offered, handing Xavier the syrup, and backing up. "I'm not mad," he said, when Dylan's expression didn't change.

"I didn't think about asking until I'd started," Xavier confessed. "When I got up, it seemed like the right thing to do… and then I wasn't so sure."

"No, it's perfect," Dylan assured him, cursing O'Sullivan in his head once more.

It had all started simply enough.

He'd gone to the club with no particular intention of playing. Matt and his new boyfriend were going, to celebrate Matt's birthday, and Dylan had gone along for the party that was sure to follow his friend.

He hadn't been wrong. Matt's friends seemed to take up half the club, but then, everyone liked Matt. The drinks were flowing pretty freely, at least among those who had come to party, rather than play. Dylan was on his second cocktail before he spotted O'Sullivan.

He'd never expected to see him again. He'd certainly never wanted to see him again. And then the boy appeared, dressed in only a pair of tight jeans and a collar, and carrying a couple of glasses of what Dylan knew were double whiskeys, on the rocks.

He put his drink down and went in search of a bouncer.

Bill, the bouncer, had taken him seriously, and summoned Justin, the club's owner, from wherever it was that Justin went when he wasn't on the floor. Dylan hadn't been all that reassured to find out that O'Sullivan was only there as a member's guest, not when he'd learned who's guest he was - the weird vibe Ed gave off made a lot of sense, all of a sudden.

It had been an ugly scene when Justin had confronted O'Sullivan - he went from stony-faced, barely-concealed fury at Justin's interruption to fully-blown-livid at Dylan's appearance. It was more than enough confirmation for Justin that O'Sullivan wasn't someone he wanted around his club.

Still, Dylan was impressed that Xavier had the sense to stay - he'd seen more than one kid follow off O'Sullivan whatever cliff he'd placed them on, and Dylan knew that O'Sullivan hadn't drugged all of them.

Xavier, he reflected, had had a narrow escape.

He tagged along with Justin and Dylan went back to Matt's party, and Justin came by to add his own birthday wishes. Somehow, when Justin left to do Justin things, Xavier stayed. They got to talking, and when Dylan was ready to go home, he only a little surprised when Xavier suggested he come along with. Xavier's blend of fear and courage was intoxicating, all on its own. He was glad he hadn't had much to drink.

Xavier had looked absolutely beguiling in the candlelight, chained to Dylan's bed, straining into Dylan's touch.

And the sounds he made; the panting and moaning had delighted Dylan as he dribbled wax unto that smooth torso.

But Dylan turned away from the memory and toward his young lover.

The night was gone, but Xavier wasn't.

Breakfast was ready. After that, who knew?

Edited for pagination

Another update, so soon?

2009-11-04T10:27:00.000-08:00

It IS an update, but not about the stories I'm working on at the moment. Sorry! I did mean to come back and finish that post, and I'm sure I will eventually, but frankly, it's harder to come up with a short non-spoilery summary than I expected.

No, this post is to announce that I'm taking my first turn behind the bar at the Torquere Social List Happy Hour somewhat early.

Like today.

So come along and check it out if you have a chance.

In which the heroine is productive

2009-10-27T10:54:00.000-07:00

A second post, as promised!

Okay, I totally hedged that bet. I do that. I do not come from a family of good correspondents.

In any case, a second post, this one with actual news.

I have updated my profile, and observant readers might have noticed that I have gone from a "twenty-something" to a "thirty-something", and deduced that I have just recently turned thirty. The beauty of this, however, means that I only have to remember to change my age it once a decade, in the autumn.

Also in my newly updated profile, is a discreet line mentioning that Torquere Press have picked up another two stories for 2010 - publication in April and September if I read my contract right (not to worry, I know exactly when they are due - deadlines are Fixed Dates in my head; everything else is broadly negotiable. Except my birthday, which lasts about six weeks.) Come closer to when they're coming out, I'll post the exact dates, and will hopefully take a turn in the Torquere Social driving seat.

The first one has a working title of "Grisaille in Brown" and the second, "Grisaille in Gray". I had actually planned to write more about this, but I've kind of run out of time.

Goodreads

2009-10-27T08:21:00.000-07:00

Doing a periodic not-quite-vanity google, I came across the fact that someone had added me to goodreads. So I signed up, and claimed my author account (which was fantastically simple - I was impressed, honestly).

Goodreads, I suspect, could become quite addictive.

Er, I shall get back to work shortly. Right after a doll up my goodreads profile just a *tiny* bit more.

Oh, yes! Speaking of getting back to work, I shall have another post about upcoming work, possibly even today. I may get the hang of this blogging thing after all.

ETA: nice try, blogger. It's not nearly 8:21 here.

2009-03-16T04:39:00.000-07:00

Okay, quite obviously I haven't gotten over the pure joy of being a debutante author.

So I was thrilled (rather than the probably more usual emotion pleased) when I received notification that "A Hope in Hell" was for sale on All Romance eBooks.

And it has a heat rating of five! I know that that's more a matter of taste, as some people like the curtains drawn rather than seeing the sex, but given that I did write the sex scenes... I'm pleased. I'd hope they were hot, and it looks like I succeeded.

Also, I like that it's listed as paranormal/horror - I'm not sure why I'm pleased, as it is paranormal/horror, so really, that's just proper shelving I guess. But I'm still pleased.

Yeah, this all still has it's new-car smell. :)

On a completely different note, I really like the Kindle (or at least the idea of it, as I don't have one or even know anyone in RL who does), and I want one, though the price tag is, well, pricey.

Though I did enjoy this comic from Penny Arcade.

Intro post

2009-01-05T07:01:00.000-08:00

As my bio says, I've recently had my first short story, A Hope in Hell, published by Torquere Press.

"A Hope in Hell" is just shy of 12K long, and tells the story of the meeting and burgeoning love affair of Yare'ach, an angel trapped in Hell, and the demon Lord Ayve.

In "A Hope in Hell", I've attempted to creature a unique and plausible vision of Hell; world building has always been a favorite part of writing for me, and I like how Hell turned out here.

A summary and sample of "A Hope in Hell" are available here.

And a review is available here.

Happy Blog Day to me!

2009-01-05T05:15:00.000-08:00

This will be very much a work in progress for a while, as I both set the damn thing up just how my OCD mind will like it, and as I figure out what kinds of things I want to write.

My profile is here.