Em's Turn

OLDIES BUT GOODIES

I get 4 this week because I missed out last Sunday.

Seriously who doesn't like a bit of Tim Curry.

T Rex is just awesome - he died too young.

For my mum, who s a huge Bowie freak.

Just cause I can - love the beret. 

Albuquerque Here We Come!!!

Emily & I are registered for GayRomLit. 

Booking flights and hotel tomorrow.

5 Things That Piss Me Off In Writing

Okay, I woke up at midnight last night I couldn't turn my brain off and the more I thought about writing there were more and more things that just pissed me off. So I thought I would share.

1- The major one is language barriers between Australian English and American English. - Seriously I think you guys need to think about joining us, (mainly so I don't keep screwing it up). in two of my stories I have both an Aussie and an American main character - So what version am I supposed to write it in. Because I know my editor will kick my arse if I use both.

2- Why do people think they can write your story better than you? and I am not talking other authors or editors - I am talking family and friends. How many times I have heard "I liked it, but I would have written it like this." On: One Last Kiss Goodbye (Title still in thought.) I have a friend tell me exactly how it was going to end and proceeded to tell me - I was like well hang on now, I am writing it and I don't know where it is headed so how can you? (By the way I am 7K into the story).

3- Why is it every time I receive edits it ends up going back to the editor with way more words? The Lines of Marsden: Rules Are Meant To Be Broken, went back to my MLR editor with nearly 4K extra. I don't understand when I reword things I end up like doubling the sentence. Somehow I think my editor is pulling her hair out right about now - (Does it help if I say sorry, Kimberly.)

4- Why is it I am so bad at promoting? Actually it's not that I am bad at it I just forget to do it. Though I did remember to promo Toowoomba Boys 2: Hunting for Clay on Talking Two Lips Yahoo site - check it out if you have time. There are such great excerpts going on there take a look at what is coming out.

5- This is another thing I hate and I do it oh so often  - Why the hell do I keep losing my notes? Why can't I be more professional and keep them all in the same place? I even lose them on the computer sometimes because I can never remember where I save them to. I spend so much time trying to track them down.

Pimping An Idea

With permission from MMRomance member Fehu on GoodReads.

PROMPT:

He was sent to sent to be the consort for the High King. Prince Allen is taught the ways of Diplomacy and Politics but not fighting.

The High King is a warrior and his dead lover was his first general. He doesn't want anyone that can't wield a sword and can only defend himself with words. That is just not someone he wants to help raise his children. So when Prince Allen is presented before him the High King doesn't choose him to be his next consort.

What is a rejected consort to do?

Prince Allen cannot return home, as he was sent to cement a treaty between his kingdom and that of the one belonging to the High King.

The army is hiring and Prince Allen asks to be part of the next expedition, hoping that by training to be a warrior he will be able to forget the High King who rejected him without really knowing him.

Can these two men come together and find love?

**~*~**

This is one of the best prompts that I have read and I missed out on getting it by a heartbeat - so I wish Megan all the best in writing her story and I can't wait to read it - this is a story that just needs to be told.

Knowing me as you all do, I couldn't let it go. I still wanted to be able to write my own story from this prompt - so I contacted the person who came up with it and asked for permission to use it as well and I am lucky that Fehu is such a wonderful person and is allowing me to do so.

So at some stage in the near future I will be writing my own version of this wonderful story - I have quite a few ideas running through my head - All I know for sure is that I will be writing this for Fehu and my wonderful beta reader Sue - It will involve something that I know Sue is quite fond of in my preferred writing style.

Update!!!

 Okay, I know I have missed the last two days of blogging and I do apologise. I have no real excuses except to say that I have been up to my elbows in edits on The Lines Of Marsden: Rules Are Meant To Be Broken. I have twenty pages yet to do that I hope to finish today - I am just up to the small stuff now. I hope that from here on out it will be clear sailing.

 Other than that I have had to set up a writing schedule so that I get the rest of the stuff I need to get done by April. I will give you a heads up on what I am attempting. I will need everyone reminding me that I have lots to do and keep me on track.

Due by April.

Father's Day story for Silver: One Last Kiss Goodbye. (Novella) 10K done.

Father's Day story for MLR: When Souls Collide. (Novella) 3K done.

4th of July story for MLR: What The Hell Am I Supposed To Do? (Novella) 1K done.

Full Length Novel for Silver: Windblown Kisses 1: My Knight In Tarnished Armour. (This could also be classed as a Father's Day story - it is written and is going through the last read through) 77K done

 I think this is doable - so wish me luck.

Making Changes...

Blog Story News...

For those of you who are regular visitors here. You will  all know that I have two blog stories going on. Due to an increase in my writing and deadlines due time I have come to the conclusion that I can't keep up with two stories a week.

So instead of stopping one completely, and after long arguments with myself and talking to Embry Carlysle - I have to do them fortnightly and for all the rest of the world that means I will alternate them weekly meaning each story will be posted two weeks apart. So I don't have to give up either of them.

They are just too fun to write to give one of them up, and even if I decided to do that I wouldn't know which one to choose. Plus my stalker - I mean my good friend and sometimes beta reader Cinders would so kick my arse if I did. Wind Walkers is part of my Sentinels of Varnuse story, and Jettermane is just because I could.

Have no fear I will keep going on with them just at a slower pace. I realised I have four deadlines in April, one in May and one in August and whatever else comes up between now and then.

So on that note I will get back to work and Wind Walkers will go up tomorrow without fail... when I started this writing for a living I never truly realised just how busy my life would become.

Angel Martinez - Part Two

Again I have the good fortune of showing you more from the talented Angel Martinez. Every one that has ever read anything by Angel knows just how good the work is... So I will just get on with the showing.

I’m one of those writers who gets upset over the lumping together of Science Fiction and Fantasy. They share space on brick and mortar bookshelves. They’re often listed as a single category in a publisher’s catalog. But for me, it’s like squishing together Mystery and Horror (“Oh, it’s over there on the sleuth and spook shelf!”) or Romance and Suspense (“Sure, just check the love and lugers aisle!”) 

While both are genres that deal with plots that don’t happen in the “real world,” (someone had to show me that on the map the other day – interesting, but I’m glad I don’t live there) Science Fiction and Fantasy arise from completely different premises. Fantasy stems from the assumption that magic exists. The nature, form, function, and manifestations of magic are up to the author, but magic, nonetheless. Science Fiction begins with the existing laws of physics and biology and either postulates the next step, or steps in our ever-widening discovery of the universe, or extrapolates on current social/ political trends and takes them to their possible conclusions. 

We all know how I feel about SF, my favorite left-brain activity. But I love my Fantasy as well. One’s brain needs to be well-rounded, you see. I love it all – bring me the paranormal, the high fantasy, the urban. Let me sink my teeth into fae and wizards, ghosts and fairytales. 

It’s probably because I’ve read so much Fantasy that I wanted something different when I wrote Finn. Elves and wizards and dragon-shifters weren’t scratching the itch. I needed… a pooka. What’s a pooka? Ah. He’s Irish, but don’t call him a leprechaun. You might get punched. If you truly want to know, come read the Endangered Fae stories.

This is Finn’s world – where the fae are coming to realize they may be on the endangered list…

(Available for pre-order at Silver Publishing!)

Finn, Endangered Fae #1 - the story of a pooka lost in New York and the heartbroken man who rescues him - releases 3/3/12

Finn's Christmas, Endangered Fae 1.5 - a short holiday tale in which Finn comes to grips with several human oddities, including gift giving and *gasp* the importance of promises. Coming 3/10/12

Diego, Endangered Fae #2 - in which Diego and Finn have their first real quarrel. Of course, those two can't just have an argument. They have to unleash unexpected forces and... well, that comes out 3/24/12. 

Finn's glad to be back. He's waiting for you...

An excerpt from Finn, Endangered Fae #1:

The figure crouched on the bridge shocked Diego so thoroughly he drove a hundred yards before he realized what he had seen.

A man squatted on his heels on the rail, one hand on a cable, the other clutching a ragged blanket at his throat. Threadbare cloth flapped around bare ankles. The persistent wind yanked it this way and that to show flashes of naked legs.

“Holy shit,” Diego muttered, as he wrestled his ancient Toyota into the nearest side street to park. This was none of his business. Didn’t he have enough problems? Even as he argued with himself he ran, dodging traffic and ignoring angry epithets as he pelted back up the bridge against traffic. The inevitable gaper delay had slowed the flow at least, making his precarious journey easier.

People stared from the safety of their vehicles as they inched along, but no one stopped to help.

Diego ignored them. His primary concern was not to startle the man into falling. He slowed his approach, ready to offer soothing words, but the man heard his footsteps. Long black hair whipped and snaked in the wind, hiding his face, though Diego caught a glimpse of bared teeth.

“Did you come after me?” the jumper snarled. “I won’t go back.”

“Go back where?” Diego seized the opportunity to start the man talking.

The jumper shook his head to clear the hair from his eyes and peered at Diego with black eyes – not dark brown, but black, set in deep, shadowed sockets. “No, I suppose you don’t look like one of those,” he said in a softly accented, weary voice.

“One of who?” Diego edged closer to stand next to him.

“The ones who shut me in the iron cage. I changed. I escaped.” His words seemed to stick in his throat and even above the traffic, Diego heard him swallow hard. “But now I’m too tired. I can’t...and the river is so filthy. I think it might kill me.”

At least he doesn’t sound like he wants to die. “Look, if you don’t want the police catching up to you, or the hospital staff, or whoever it is, this is about the worst thing you could do. You’re upsetting all these people and attracting a lot of attention. They’ll be here any minute.” Diego reached out a hand, palm up. “Please come down. Let’s get you safe and out of the wind. Then we’ll see about straightening all this out.”

The man regarded him through the shifting curtain of hair for a long moment. “What are you called?”

Depends who you talk to. “My name is Diego. Diego Sandoval.” He lurched forward, his stomach plummeting to his feet, when the man swayed, but the jumper retained his place on the rail.

The man repeated his name a few times as if trying it out, and then nodded. “It’s a good name. Pleasurable to say.”

“And you?”

“I am called Fionnachd.”

Diego tried to repeat it and won a hint of a smile from the man when he mangled the pronunciation. “Could I call you Finn?”

That got a shrug. The blanket fell back from his shoulder to reveal all-too-prominent bones. “You could. Some have. I don’t mind.”

“Climb down, Finn,” Diego urged again. “I’ll help you. Let’s get you somewhere quiet where you can rest.”

Finn took his fingers in a light grip and Diego caught a whiff of rotten orange rinds as he slid from the rail.

What the hell am I doing? He could have Hepatitis or HIV or tuberculosis, or worse. He’s probably crazy. Maybe even dangerous.

The intense plea in those black-on-black eyes silenced his practical objections. Lost and alone, this man needed someone. Diego had never been good at walking away.