Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Cover Reveal: .Layla Dorine's ...And All Shall Fade to Black!

Layla Dorine’s ….And All Shall Fade to Black



Coming June 2nd from Encompass Ink
Cover Art for …And All Shall Fade to Black by the awesome Rue Volley who gets my visions even better than I do most times.



For those who followed this when it was a freebie Friday story, here is the far more detailed, far more fleshed out story of Jax and Danny!

…and All Shall Fade to Black Blurb:

Moving into his new apartment, Jax never expected to have to break up a fight between his new neighbors, resulting in a physical altercation and a visit from the cops. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that it would lead to him meeting Danny, the cute theater manager and playwright that lived next door. Unfortunately, his first impression of Danny and the way he’d cowered away in the fight with his ex, wasn’t exactly a favorable one. Jax already has his own issues to deal with, between his past problems with his mother and the chain of men who’ve floated in and out of her life, his new job as a piercer in his sister’s tattoo shop and his struggles with an eating disorder; the last thing he plans to add to it is a relationship.

Yet Danny isn’t so easy to ignore and when they find themselves bonding after Danny shows him around town, and more when Jax offers to help with sets for his latest play, it becomes harder and harder for him to ignore the connection forming between them. As Jax’s insecurities and food issues grow more and more out of control, he find himself turning to Danny for help, rather than his longtime friends Callum and Max who lives just downstairs. Danny’s mix of patience, stubbornness and tough love make it harder and harder for Jax to keep his distance, and somewhere in the course of their daily lives, they find themselves moving from being friends, to being more.
About the Author



LAYLA DORINE lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.

Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.


Layla Dorine can be found at:                               
Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005197938547&fref=ts Twitter: https://twitter.com/layladorine
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/layladorine/
Tumblr: https://layladorine.tumblr.com/
Author Website: layladorine13.wix.com/layladorineauthor


Author on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9814124.Layla_Dorine

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Rainbow Snippet May 27

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).



In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  The following Snippet is from Guitars and Choices, the sequel to my debut novel Guitars and Cages. Both books are now available through Amazon and Amazon KU. Guitars and Cages can be found HERE at a special reissue price of .99. While Guitars and Choices can be found HERE!  

This will be the final snippet from the Guitars books, next week, I'll have a little bit from ...And all Shall Fade to Black. 

In this snippet, I pick up just a few lines from last weeks. 

Earl’s voice was laced with anger when he spoke next. “Gage never said anything about a whip.”

“The old man didn’t use it on him,” Asher managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Earl was silent for a moment. “No, but he used it on you, didn’t he.”

Asher said nothing, let the duck of his head be the only confirmation the older man needed.

“Son of a bitch,” Earl spat, his fists clenching. “If I’d known, I’d have given him a taste of that whip myself.”

“And then what,” Asher asked. “End up in jail with him? Wasn’t worth it.”


Earl turned Asher to look at him. “My son thought you were worth a damn sight more than you seem to think you are. And I’m willing to bet if you gave him half a chance, your son would think you were worth a damn sight more than you give yourself credit for, Asher. This here, this is exactly why you will never be like your old man.”

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Wednesday Workshop 2

Wednesday Workshop #1
***Note: Another new, weekly feature, using some of the prompts and workshop materials I've collected over the year. For this one I decided to use Raine from a WIP I've slowly been developing. Raine is a wolf shifer and an omega, he's even been chosen by an alpha...but happiness is still a long ways away. The prompt for this one was to write your character doing a normal, everyday task. In this case, I choose baking. ***

Wiping down the counter, Raine stole a quick glance at the timer on the stove. Three more minutes, give or take, best to get the cooling racks out and ready so he had someplace for the cupcakes to rest. There was a basket on the table, filled with goodies he intended to bring along with him to the community garden, excited at the prospect of spending the day away from the house.
Still.

When the cupcakes were cooled and frosted he placed two on a plate and left them for Gabriel and Aiden to find. He hated that he felt compelled to do so, but Gabe did pay for the groceries and he was allowed to live there, so he supposed he owed them that much. Plus, it was his turn to cook today, so that was just part of him fulfilling his obligations.
Right?

Looking around, he felt a pang of envy at the thought of them sitting together with coffee, enjoying the cupcakes as they talked and prepared to start their day. He’d thought that would be him, waking up to mornings with Gage, planning and laughing together, but the stupid alpha had gone and ruined it when he’d taken a second mate.

Raine would have been enough, if given half the chance, but Gabe hadn’t given him even that, and now, he steadfastly refused to send Aiden away.

The ultimatum stung, learn to get along live in harmony and accept Aiden, or be the one outcast. It wasn’t fair, he’d been the one Gabe choose first, and yet, he was the one packing up a picnic basket as the sun came up while Aiden was in bed curled up beside their alpha.

At least he had the garden and the friends he was making there. Gabe’s pack was wonderful, and the woods were a beautiful place to roam. He wanted to be here, he did…he just didn’t want to bend, he didn’t want to accept Aiden, he didn’t want to share his Alpha…

He didn’t want to feel like a third wheel.


Touching the claiming bite on the side of his neck, he felt tears sting his eyes and swim up to cloud his vision. 

He’d only been claimed, not mated proper, not like Aiden, he could ask for the claim to be set aside and hope another Alpha might someday want him, or, he could build his own place, and live out his days among the pack alone, both were solid options. Yet his wolf whined whenever he considered either and his heart felt heavy with the duel sensations of dread and misery. So he stayed, for now, wistful and sad, waiting for his wolf to give up hope so he could move on. 

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Teaser Tuesday May 20th (Steamy conversation inside)


This weeks Teaser Tuesday is one of the few pieces that have been written of the Menage story I've had rolling around in my head for some time now. Sparked by an Erotic Writing Workshop I took a few months ago, I've slowly been working on character development and setting the stage for the story. 


“This was a stupid idea, next time I’m coming with you,” Talon grumbled.

Flint could tell he was pacing, likely on the porch if the creek of wood was any indication. He kept meaning to fix the loose boards and Talon kept finding ways to distract him every time he headed out there with the hammer and jar of nails.

“I never pictured you as the bored housewife waiting for me to come home.”

Snorting, Talon grumbled into the phone. “Think you’re funny huh, when you get back here we should see just how funny you are draped over my knee with my hand warming your ass.”

Flint whined, then glared at the trio of women who looked over at him and openly stared.

“Fuck, don’t say shit like that when I’m out in public,”
Talon’s chuckle, deep, low and rumbling made him shiver, and he had to take a deep breath and let it out slow.

“Maybe you’ll be more careful with your comments next time.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“Never said I did.”

That chuckle again, it was making Flint’s inside’s melt. Pressing the phone to his ear, he unscrewed the cap on his soda and took a long, slow drink, hoping it would cool him off.

“Were you able to get the radio equipment yet?”

“Yeah, but I have to wait until Friday to take the class and get certified.”

“Dammit.”

Flint grinned at the positively frustrated and annoyed tone that rumbled through the phone.

“Maybe you could fix those loose boards while I’m gone, and chop some more firewood, then go stand over the falls and let all that cold water cool you off least you go up in flames waiting for me to get home and suck you ‘til you beg to fuck me raw.”

The only response was a choking sound, followed by loud, forceful coughing, and Flint had to laugh at the way Talon sputtered and wheezed.

“Son of a bitch, you keep it up and I’m going to need a new phone at this rate. The fuck’s wrong with you. I’m hard as fuck over here now thanks to you.”

“Consider it payback,” Flint chuckled. “how do you think I feel right now trying to talk down the fuckin’ street with my cock swollen against my zipper. Shit hurts man.”

“Too bad you’re not back at the hotel, so I could tell you exactly what you should do with that, and that fat orange toy I know you took with you.”

“What?” Flint squeaked. “How….”

“I went looking for it last night and found it gone.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, and what were you gonna do with it?”

“Pretend it was you.”

“Shit…” Flint groaned, walking smack into a light post. It was so unexpected his phone fell, clattering on the ground. Flint shook his head and reached for the phone, brushing some grit away, grateful it hadn’t cracked. All he could hear coming through it was laughter when he placed it back to his ear.

“You suck,” he grumbled.

“Anything for you, babe.”

“Uggg, I’m ending this call now, Talon, before I walk into a bus or something.”

“Yeah, okay, but call me tonight if you can. Its way too quiet up here. I didn’t think it would be so bad.”

“Call me if you need to, doesn’t matter what time, okay. I’ll be on the road as soon as the class is over.”

“Good. Miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

“Bye Tal.”

Hanging up, Flint shoved the phone back in his pocket and finished his drink. It wasn’t easy being apart, especially at night when the endless sounds of the city made it next to impossible to sleep. He missed the silence, he missed Talon, and he missed the hot, burning exploration of one another that had gradually come to consume a good chunk of each day. His phone beeped, and he frowned as he pulled it out again. One missed call, now who…


Chase’s name and number popped up and Flint froze. Now that was certainly unexpected. 

Monday, May 22, 2017

Monday Mini Part 3

Welcome to the first Monday Mini-Series, a new idea I'm introducing to Rainbow Lyrics and Mellow Mushrooms. Each mini-series will be roughly 4-5 parts all coming together to comprise a short story. This first short features a superhero trying to do a very simple task...go grocery shopping. I hope you'll follow along to see how things go for him. Feel free to leave comments and feedback. I hope you enjoy this first installment.


Lactose Intolerant Part 3


"Why, when he'd already made up his mind about our intentions the moment we stepped in. Let's face it, people are jaded. It’s easier for them to see the bad in everyone than to expect something good."
"Tell me again why we bother?"
"I guess so we don't become as disillusioned as the rest of them. Besides, what's the point of having lightning reflexes if we can't do anything with them? It’s not like we can take all of our martial arts training and complete in tournaments or even fight pro, it wouldn’t be fair, we'd always be able to anticipate where the strikes would land, so we'd always counter them, where's the challenge in that?"
"Where's the challenge now?"
"True, but at least we're doing something good, even if most people don't appreciate it."
"Umm, excuse me sir, but are you okay?"
The soft, feminine voice startled them out of their conversation. Glancing around they suddenly found themselves face to face with a middle aged woman who was clutching her daughter close.
"Umm yeah, We…err, I’m fine," Naill replied, looking away.
"Then can you please move? I've been trying to get to that shelf for the past few minutes. I even said excuse me several times, but it didn't seem like you heard a word of it."
"Sorry," Devlin replied, and felt his face heat up, he sure hoped Naill was blushing too or they were going to look pretty odd. Shuffling left, they moved so the little girl could get her box of cereal, one of the beautiful, sugary kinds Devlin would have loved to have.
"Fine, one," Naill finally relented once the woman and her little girl were on their way.
Giddy, Devlin reached out and snatched up the same kind as the little girl, placing it in the cart with a loving pat before they continued down the aisle.
In the produce section, they loaded up on fresh veggies and fruits, Devlin wrinkling his nose at the broccoli and making gagging noises at the Brussel sprouts. Naill moved on undaunted however, getting fresh mushrooms as he'd set out to, red seedless grapes and ginger root. He grabbed wonton wrappers, carrots and bean sprouts, green onions, shallots and garlic too.
"Thought we weren't getting anything that can be delivered," Devlin challenged.
"I'm gonna make lumpia," Naill determined.
"What the hell is that?"
"Filipino style of egg roll, totally different fillings from the crap you get from the Chinese place downtown."
"Keep telling yourself that," Devlin chuckled, then let it drop.
In the drink aisle they bought bottled water and drink packets to flavor it, like what the hell were they gonna do with zero calorie anything but try telling Naill that. This healthy living shit was gonna kill them both and it was only the first day.
Heading down the pasta aisle they caught sight of a woman in a pea green oversized coat, several pockets adorning the front and a few inside judging from the way she swiped a package of orzo from the shelf and tucked it away. You couldn't even see the lump.
She grabbed three envelopes of sauce mix and slipped them in an outer pocket, then turned, studying the packages of summer sausage and other meats. They swiped the envelopes from her pocket as she was pondering the peperoni, and when her jacket swung open as she tucked the peperoni in, they snagged the orzo too, putting both back on the shelf. Whistling, they pretended to study the boxes of pasta, adding fettuccini and linguini to the cart while discreetly trailing her.
They liberated the peperoni from her pocket, and the pack of crust mix all while she was placing a container of parmesan cheese in her basket. When she glanced their way, they tossed a loaf of French bread in the cart on top of a couple jars of sauce, and then maneuvered around her, pretending to ignore the looks she shot their way.
To her own basket she added a small container of red pepper flakes, then gasped, when store security grabbed her arm.
"Ma'am, you need to empty your pockets," the officer said, the pointed look on his face making the woman cringe.
"I...what's the meaning of this?" she stammered.
"I think you know," the officer told her, his stern expression turning to shock as she turned each of her pockets out one by one only to reveal there was nothing in them.
"Doh," Naill muttered, face palming and shaking his head.
"How were we supposed to know they were doing their jobs," Devlin grumbled.
"Yeah, ‘cause assuming they weren't just worked out so well. Can we please learn a lesson from all this. Let's just our shopping done and go home. We can't police everyone."
"Wasn't trying to police anyone, just looking to keep the prices down. Companies gotta make up for theft loss someway, how do you think they do it; they pass it on to the consumer, that's how. I just didn't wanna end up paying for her pizza, especially when you won't even let me have one."
"For a week, one miserable week. You keep this up and we can make it a month."
"Yeah, you can fuck right off with that shit too."
"Don't you wish?"
Left with no choice, the security guard apologized and let her go, frowning and rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her hurry to the checkout counter and pay for the items in her basket. Was too much to hope she'd chalk it up to a lesson learned, some strange twist of fate that had kept her from getting arrested. Was more likely she'd head to another store and lift the shit she'd failed to get.
What the hell did they bother for anyway?


***Hope you'll return next week for the conclusion of Lactose Intolerant. Thank you so much for reading***

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Rainbow Snippet May 20th

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).



In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  The following Snippet is from Guitars and Choices, the sequel to my debut novel Guitars and Cages. Both will be available on May 26th.  In this snippet, I pick up about a half page away from last weeks, still in the barn, but closer to learning why he's scared. 


They made it halfway through the barn, Earl keeping his conversation light, talking about the general condition and how the old, moldy straw would need to be removed. Asher began to relax, even began to take note of some of the damage, when his eyes landed on the old bullwhip.

Before he realized what was happening, he was trying to bolt for the exit, only to have Earl grab his arm, the older man’s grip like steel from years of toiling on his own ranch.

Asher panted, eyes wide, while Earl looked around, his shrewd gray eyes finally landing on the whip.

“Want me to get rid of that thing?” Earl asked gruffly.


Asher couldn’t find his voice, could only nod. 





Friday, May 19, 2017

Guitars and Choices Cover Reveal



Layla Dorine’s Guitars and Choices
The sequel to Guitars and Cages
Coming May 26th from Encompass Ink along with the re-release of Guitars and Cages
Cover Art for Guitars and Choices by the amazingly talented Rue Volley who has a wonderful way of taking fragmented ideas and envisioning something wonderful.



Guitars and Choices Blurb:

Asher Logan has been a lot of things: runaway, guitarist, cage fighter, cowboy, but the one thing he’s always avoided was being a father to his young son. Now faced with returning to his families ranch, he’s forced to deal with the knowledge that the move would put him right down the road from Shawn. Still, it’s better than staying in the city, with drunken, bitter older brother Cole, whose anger and prejudices have made him difficult to be around.

Add in the fact that Asher’s new boyfriend, Conner, is eager to make the move with him, and there’s little argument that he can make against it. But returning home means facing demons, and the barn he’s avoided since the day his father caught him and his first love together in the hay. Speaking of his father, when the old man finds out Asher is back, he knows it will only be a matter of time before he demands Asher come to the prison to see him.

Moving means facing a buried past and truths long hidden, but staying in the city isn’t good for anyone, least of all Asher’s young nephew, Rory. It’s a hard road to face, filled with tough choices, and an old secret that just might provide more questions than answers.




About the Author:

LAYLA DORINE lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.

Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.

Layla Dorine can be found at:                               
Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005197938547&fref=ts Twitter: https://twitter.com/layladorine
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/layladorine/
Tumblr: https://layladorine.tumblr.com/
Author Website: layladorine13.wix.com/layladorineauthor

Author on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9814124.Layla_Dorine

Monday, May 15, 2017

Monday Mini-Series Part 2

Welcome to the first Monday Mini-Series, a new idea I'm introducing to Rainbow Lyrics and Mellow Mushrooms. Each mini-series will be roughly 4-5 parts all coming together to comprise a short story. This first short features a superhero trying to do a very simple task...go grocery shopping. I hope you'll follow along to see how things go for him. Feel free to leave comments and feedback. I hope you enjoy this first installment.


Lactose Intolerant Part 2

It afforded Devlin the opportunity to people watch, starting with a leggy brunette in the football jersey who was rummaging around in her bag, muttering to herself about never having a stupid pen.
"I can relate," he chuckled as they went by; pausing only so he could pass her the only pen they had on them.
Not like they had a list anyway. She smiled and thanked him while Naill grumbled about Devlin never being prepared for anything. That wasn't true and his brother knew it, he kept a condom in his wallet, right next to a little packet of lube. Equal opportunity and all that jazz, if there was one thing their unique existence had taught him was to never limit themselves in anything.
“Which is why we are one honey bun away from actually needing to do exercise,” Nail muttered furiously as they headed for the aisle marked canned fruits and vegetables. Devlin simply whistled a happy tune and pushed the cart, breathing in the scent of chicken frying over in the deli. A pyramid of mushrooms stood beside the endcap, picture perfect with all of the labels facing in the same direction.
"They'd be pretty good on pizza," Devlin remarked, eyeing up the cans.
"Fresh ones are better and we're not making pizza, we're not making anything that comes from a drive through or can be delivered to our door."
"You do know that we get cranky when we're hungry."
"Thought you agreed to shut up and let me handle this?"                         
Devlin grumbled and narrowed his eye. "Fine," he snapped, but that didn't stop him from reaching out and snagging a can as they went past. Unfortunately, the rapid, jerky movement sparked an avalanche of cans and a gasp from Naill. In a flurry of motion, they grabbed at the cans, gathering them all back up before they could hit the ground in a cacophony of noise. Unfortunately, putting them back so fast meant that they ended up in a precariously balanced pile, nothing like the precise placement they'd been in before Devlin happened past.
"You just couldn't resist, could you? Naill grumbled.
"One can isn't going to hurt us, besides, we can throw it into a pot of spaghetti or something," Devlin pointed out, the offending can still clutched in his grasp.
Naill let out a long suffering sigh and rolled his eye. "Fine, but from here on out, you keep your hand to yourself."
Smirking, Devlin placed the can in the cart and made an x with his fingers across his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die"
 "So I'd wish, but that would be suicide," Naill complained as he took charge of their direction, wandering down the aisle and adding cans of pineapples and apricots. They'd hardly gone a few steps when a woman fussing at her child to slow down and stay beside her took the turn, and distracted, bumped into the stand, sending mushroom cans everywhere. The crash was spectacular, cans rolling down the aisle and bouncing with loud clangs off metal shelves. Naill cringed, pushing the cart a little faster.
"Shit, cleanup on aisle three," Devlin muttered, hiding a snicker behind his hand.
"It ain't funny."
"Yeah, it kinda is," Devlin remarked as the woman tried to corral the out of control kid, dodging cans and nearly tripping on them while she made a grab for him. "Maybe she'll put the kid in a cart from now on."
"Wish I could shove you in a cart, you're old enough to know better."
"So's the kid, or he would be, if she'd teach him some manners."
"Yeah, 'cause you know all about raising kids, right?"
"I'm just saying, maybe if some folks taught these brats young, they wouldn't grow up to be little assholes who run around robbing corner stores, spray painting other people's property and beating up folks for their money."
"Maybe..."
Naill grabbed a couple bags of dried beans, studying them awhile as he debated which would be best in a pot of chili, before finally deciding on the canned beans, uncertain if it would be worth the effort of having to soak them overnight, then boil them before they'd be of any use.
"Chili does sound good; think we can figure out cornbread?"
"It shouldn't be too hard," Naill replied, grateful that Devlin was finally getting with the program; they headed into the aisle with the baking products only to discover that there were way more kinds of flour than they'd ever imagined.
"Ummm," Devlin stammered as they walked slowly past bags of rye and wheat, bleached, gluten free, rice flour, oat flour, all-purpose, self-rising, and finally, corn meal.
"Pretty sure we need this," Naill stated as he picked up the corn meal. Turning the package over revealed a recipe for corn bread, so he made short work of grabbing the all-purpose flour, honey, and sugar they also needed from the aisle.
"Hey, if we grab some vanilla extract maybe we can figure out how to bake a cake, don't all those cooking shows talk about vanilla extract?" Devlin supplied.
"No cake, even homemade counts as junk food," Naill pointed out. He grabbed a small bottle of cooking oil, then paused at the spice rack, selecting several items and adding them to the cart.
"Do you even know what those are used for? Devlin asked, as Naill added jars of sage, rosemary, thyme, basil, and oregano.
"Nope, but we're going to figure it out."
"Joy."
Devlin's eyes lit up when they reached the cereal aisle. Reaching for a box of sugary goodness, he was stopped by Naill's admonishment.
"Don't even think about it."
"But..."
Groaning, he dropped his hand, pouting as Naill selected several varieties of shredded wheat and flakes with nuts and dried fruit bits in them.
"What's the point of having a super metabolism if you won't even let us enjoy it a little," Devlin moaned as they passed his favorite cereal, the colorful box depicting several varieties of oddly shaped grain bits and marshmallows.
"It won't kill you to eat this for one week."
"You don't know that. It just might."
Lite syrup and whole wheat pancake mix soon joined the cereal in the cart. Naill stared at the oatmeal selections, trying to decide between the organics, gluten frees, lites, instant, steal cut, old fashioned and sugar-free. Devlin would have selected the flavored packages of fruits and cream or maple and brown sugar, Naill of course, grabbed the gluten free, likely because it looked the least appealing of all of them.
As he was tossing it in the cart, they both happened to notice an older gentleman trying to get the last box of cereal down off the top shelf with his cane. Hurrying over, they leapt, propelling themselves off one of the bottom shelves to get greater height, easily snagging the box and landing back beside the old man with a grin. It was quickly wiped away when he rapped Naill on the wrist with his cane hard enough to make him drop the box, right into the cart the crafty old codger had deftly maneuvered into place. Naill grabbed his wrist, shaking it out while the old man waved his cane at them.
"Think you was being smart, didn't ja, you young whipper snapper. Well let me tell you something, no little punk is going to steal my cereal and get away with it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself; didn't your folks ever teach you to respect your elders? You just wait, one day you'll be old and bent and let’s see how you like it when folks just push you aside like you ain't even there anymore. I know you saw me grabbing that box. What right do you think you've got to try and take it away? You want a box; you go ask them if they got some more in the back, this one is mine. Have some damned respect for descent folks who just wanna get on back home without any trouble."
Naill opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't manage to find the words before the old man hobbled away pushing his cart, muttering under his breath about kids these days.
“Unbelievable." Naill muttered.
"Why? Look at what happened with the purse snatching we stopped last week. We step in and keep those two girls from mugging the lady, leave them tied up in the alley and even offer to escort the woman home so she made it there safely, and she turns around and beats on us with that damned heavy assed handbag, yelling at us about putting our hands on those girls. Like they weren't about to beat the hell outta her if she didn't given them everything she had."
"True.” Naill conceded. “He didn't even give us a chance to explain."
"Why, when he'd already made up his mind about our intentions the moment we stepped in. Let's face it, people are jaded. It’s easier for them to see the bad in everyone than to expect something good."
"Tell me again why we bother?"
"I guess so we don't become as disillusioned as the rest of them. Besides, what's the point of having lightning reflexes if we can't do anything with them? It’s not like we can take all of our martial arts training and complete in tournaments or even fight pro, it wouldn’t be fair, we'd always be able to anticipate where the strikes would land, so we'd always counter them, where's the challenge in that?"
"Where's the challenge now?"

"True, but at least we're doing something good, even if most people don't appreciate it."

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Rainbow Snippet May 14th

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).



In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  The following Snippet is from Guitars and Choices, the sequel to my debut novel Guitars and Cages. Both will be available on May 26th. 

Please, if you have blog space, consider signing up for my upcoming tour for Guitars and Choices at there are a lot of spaces left on the tour.  https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeghmt8xV_ySkmxEHdjwwpCLK6BQjkq77aZB02d1HuepVqoCw/viewform

“How about the barn, how’s it looking?” Earl asked as they passed it for the third time with Asher making no motion to go inside.
He froze. He still hadn’t been back in that barn. “I-I don’t know.”
Earl blinked, studying him, and then looking back at the barn. “Ain’t been back inside yet, have you?”
“No, sir,” Asher muttered, head down. “I-I can’t, I-I don’t wanna…”
“You can, and you have to,” Earl told him, steel in his voice. “Not gonna do you any good to be working the ranch, especially come calving and foaling time, if you can’t bring yourself to go in the barn.”

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Wednesday Workshop #1

Wednesday Workshop #1
***Note: Another new, weekly feature, using some of the prompts and workshop materials I've collected over the year. For this one, I chose Rogue, from my current WIP, Gypsy’s Rogue, a character who started off with all intentions of just being a drifter, passing through for a couple chapters. He surprised me though, I didn’t realize his feelings for Gypsy ran so deep, or that he was just as much in need of a home and stability. The interactions between the two are at times painful, steamy, and very, very sweet, and I can’t wait to see how their story turns out. *** Also reminder, Gypsy is gender fluid, so they/them pronouns are used to refer to them ***

Chose one song that best reflects your character and write a scene in which they are listening to it.
Way Beyond Empty: Zakk Wylde  



Even with the windows down it was hot, the kind of stifling heat that made breathing oppressive. Rogue wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced across the cab of the truck to where Gypsy sat, staring off across the endless cornfields. They’d hardly said a word since the conversation with Pastor Stern and Rogue couldn’t imagine what they had to be thinking about the man, the church and their dead father.

Personally, he’d never given much thought to religion, the very nature of his upbringing had left little room for consideration for God and theology. He’d been raised on folklore and legends, stories passed down from generation to generation as life lessons and cautionary tales. It was enough to keep them from breaking any serious laws anyway, and the rest of the time, well, as long as no one was getting hurt it was all good.

He had a hard time understanding why they cared so much, and they’d come pretty close to snapping at them when they’d insisted on sitting down and hearing the Pastor out, especially after the shit he’d said to them in the grocery store. In the end though, Rogue knew he could only make his own choices and couldn’t stand in the way of Gypsy making theirs, so he’d sat quietly, and listened as the man rambled on about his kid and all the praying he’d been doing over how to deal with her.

Like there was anything wrong with a chick liking chicks. Maybe if more people were honest about who they cared about the world would be a happier place, but what did he know?

Fiddling with the radio, he tried to dial in a station that wasn’t country, getting discouraged when the only other one he came across was the gospel channel, then he heard it, those familiar cords, strummed with aching precision, the opening notes to Zakk Wylde’s Way Beyond Empty. Cranking it up, he hit a rut, the pair of them bouncing along that half washed out road towards the back side of the property to unload the truck, the words filling in the silent gap between them as Rogue took every one to heart.

Because the truth was, he was scared. Everything was so new, so fragile, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and fucking it up. He was afraid of trying to protect Gypsy and failing, ‘cause there were never any guarantees about forgiveness.  He wanted to make them happy, help make the place thrive and grow, but if he couldn’t catch on fast enough, or if it was just too much would they send him down the road, and leave him as broken and empty as the muse in the song?


Reaching for their hand, he knew it was childish, he was too old to need physical reassurance that everything was okay. So then why did his heart feel like it was crushed just a little bit, when Gypsy pulled away?

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Teaser Tuesday May 9 (warning, this teaser contains steamy bits)


This weeks Teaser Tuesday takes place on a farm. It's from Gypsy's Rogue, one of my current WIPs. Set in Wisconsin, on the farm Gypsy has inherited now that their father has passed, Gypsy's Rogue features Gypsy McKay, who identifies as gender fluid and uses them/they pronouns rather than go back and forth, and Rogue, their ex husband's younger brother who's always had more than just a little crush on them. In helping repair the farm they're building more than barns and chicken coops, they are forging bonds between them, ones that Rogue's family desperately hopes to break.

Warning....there's some steam to this teaser.

“That was the last cabinet anyway. The wood underneath is beautiful, I can’t believe anyone would have wanted to cover it that way, not to mention the paper and the sticky backing on the liner just attracts bugs. It’ll need to be scrubbed before anything goes in there.”
Gypsy sighed and stared down at him. “Joy, I hate town.”
“Want me to go?”
They sighed and shook their head. “No, we’d better just go together and get it over with. Fuck it’s hot out there though, I don’t want to put on jeans.”
“Then don’t. Who cares, and anyone who does, fuck ‘em.”
“Ewwww,” they laughed, wrinkling their nose but climbing down. He had a point, people were going to talk, regardless so why go out of their way to be uncomfortable when no matter what they did, some nosy busy body would have something to gossip about anyway. Hell, as soon as they got a look at Rogue that was going to be gossip enough on its own.
He stood, brushing the dust from his jeans before he washed his hands and stuck his head under the faucet, letting the water run through his hair and down the back of his neck. Gypsy watched as he gathered the long strands in his hands and rung them out, then let them fall, cool and wet down the center of his back.
“Now that feels good,” he murmured.
Beneath their breath, Gypsy couldn’t help but remark. “You look good.”
He turned, half smiling, a sure sign that he’d heard every word.
“So do your legs, in those shorts,” he replied, voice having grown deeper, more gravely as he stalked across the room towards them and pinned them against the counter with his body. “Looking at your ass shaking while you were scrubbing up there, so many dirty thoughts were running through my head. I wanted to pull you down, explore every inch of you with my mouth, my tongue, my cock.”
He growled the last part in Gypsy’s ears and they gasped, feeling their face get warm and their lower belly flutter with anticipation. They licked their lips, forced themselves to meet the searing intensity of his gaze.
“Why didn’t you?” Gypsy moaned, their voice gone breathy and a little weak.
“You haven’t told me I can yet,” he remarked, leaning closer, ending the sentence by claiming their lips in a rough, passionate kiss that robbed them of what little breath they had left.
“Tonight,” Gypsy gasped, tangling their hands in his hair and tugging his head down until they were nose to nose. “Some of me, all of me, as much as you want, you can have.”
He exhaled, a long, ragged breath, eyes drifting half-closed as his whole body shivered.
“Promise?” he growled, hands gripping Gypsy’s ass and pulling them forward, rubbing the front of them against the swelling in his pants and holy shit, Gypsy gasped, eyes widening.
“Jesus Christ, what do you have in there?”
He chuckled at that, low and filthy, fixing them with a look that was so raw they felt like they were about to go up in flames.
“Guess you’ll find out tonight,” he remarked, stepping back and adjusting himself. Gypsy couldn’t tear their eyes away from the bulge in his pants, torn between saying fuck town, and grabbing the keys because damn, just damn. Gypsy dragged their gaze up to his face and made a show of licking their lips and flicking their tongue out at him.
“Oh really?” Eyes narrowing, he smirked and stroked himself inside his pants, bringing a groan of pleasure from him as he did.
 “Yeah,” Gypsy remarked, flicking their tongue out at him again.
“You gonna put that tongue to good use tonight?”
“Anything you do to me, I’m gonna do to you,” Gypsy shot back, challenging, expecting him to draw some kind of line. Instead, he gasped and jerked his hands from his pants, seeming to fight for control, heat and longing in his eyes, so sharply focused on them that Gyspy wanted to slid to their knees and fuck him on the floor.”
“Promise?” He demanded, hands on the counter, still pinning them in, so close Gypsy could feel him shaking.
Gypsy went up on tiptoe, nuzzling the side of his neck.
“Yes,” they murmured against his skin, punctuating each word with a flick of their tongue along the hot, smooth skin at the side of his neck. “Anything, everything, all.”
“Fuck, yeah, gonna wreck you,” he groaned, pressing in tighter, thrusting gently against them, grinding their bodies together until Gypsy was grasping and clinging to him. Gypsy’s hands tugged at the loops of his jeans, pulling him closer, seeking friction and the feel of his hands on their body. Slipping their hands down the back of his jeans, they ranked their nails lightly the globes of his ass until he growled and shuddered, gripping tight and panting loudly.
“We either fuck now, or we go,” he groaned.
“I don’t want to fuck you,” Gypsy told him, gripping him tight when he tried to pull away. They could practically feel the confusion radiating off him and they rushed to finish their statement. “I want to make love to you, slowly, learn every inch of you, brand myself on you and feel you burning against me. I want to take you apart and wreck you and hold you as you shatter and beg and make a mess of yourself and I want you to do the same to me. I want slow and tender until we’re both wild and out of control. Fucking isn’t going to be enough, not with you.”
“Damn, Gypsy,” he growled, nipping lightly at their ear. “I can work with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
He’d stopped grinding against them, but Gypsy could still feel his heart pounding about as hard as theirs was, and they shivered as he lightly stroked down their back and rubbed circles, like he was trying to calm them both.

“As long as you know, I’m a kinky bastard,” he muttered, and Gypsy giggled and brushed his hair from his face, seeking his gaze. 

Monday, May 8, 2017

Monday Mini-Series

Welcome to the first Monday Mini-Series, a new idea I'm introducing to Rainbow Lyrics and Mellow Mushrooms. Each mini-series will be roughly 4-5 parts all coming together to comprise a short story. This first short features a superhero trying to do a very simple task...go grocery shopping. I hope you'll follow along to see how things go for him. Feel free to leave comments and feedback. I hope you enjoy this first installment.


Lactose Intolerant

Groaning in despair, Devlin closed the cupboard door and glared across the room in the direction of the refrigerator. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten yet this morning, which with his enhanced metabolism meant that he'd start feeling the effects sooner rather than later. Hoping against hope that there was actually something edible inside the chrome appliance, Devlin yanked open the door and blinked at the brightness of the light that greeted him. The top shelf was pretty pathetic, empty save for the crusty bottle of mustard shoved to the back and an egg carton that upon closer inspection revealed one lone, solitary egg.
Still, if he had cheese to go with it, he could make a sandwich, thanks to those two end pieces of bread in plastic on the counter. Unfortunately, the cheese was dotted with a spectacular shade of green mold, and his search for bacon or sausage proved fruitless. His efforts did produce three ketchup packets, a bottle of soy sauce with about an inch of dark brown liquid in the bottom, some limp, wilted and slightly slimy lettuce, a tablespoon of butter half smooshed to the wrapper, and an overturned carton from the Chinese place down the street. It was leaking something that smelled like rotten garlic. Wrinkling his nose, he pinched the metal handle between his thumb and forefinger and quickly threw it away, along with the rotting lettuce, washing his hands when he was done.
He returned the refrigerator with a soapy sponge and quickly cleaned up the mess, splattering droplets on the note he'd left himself, he wasn't sure when. It simply read "Buy milk, dammit, cereal with tang is getting disgusting and P.S. We're almost out of tang."
Must have been written a few days before, seeing as how they were now officially out of tang and had the last bowl of cereal with water the day before. By them, of course, he meant himself and his perfectly conjoined twin, two halves that shared one merged body so well that it was only their hair and eyes that were a giveaway of their unique condition. Sometimes he wondered if it might not be easier to just dye the lighter half darker and wear a contact, but it went against his nature, and since Naill wasn’t about to lighten his side or conceal his own eye color, they just left them alone and let people think whatever they wished. Which generally meant that they got mistaken for goth or punk or some other practitioner of an alternate lifestyle.
Sighing, he closed the door and scrubbed a hand down over his face. This is what they got for allowing themselves to get so busy fighting crime and attempting to help people who shied away from them in the light of day. At least at night, hidden beneath a mask and hood, their oddities went unnoticed, folks were generally too busy trying to figure out why some super maneuverable vigilante had appeared to save them.
His stomach rumbled again, and he was forced to listen to Naill curse at the thought of yet another fast food meal.
Not only are they getting quite expensive but they’re rather unhealthy to boot,” Naill pointed out.
“I get it, you’ve only said it about a million times.”
“Perhaps someday you’ll listen.”
Devlin rubbed his temples, trying to ease the tension there. He was pretty sure the only thing stopping them from topping the scales at over three hundred pounds was the fact that their amazing metabolism fed their super sharp reflexes, allowing them to burn a ton of calories with how fast they moved.
He swayed and reached out to grab the refrigerator door, closed his eyes against the spots that danced in front of them and cursed again. Stupid lightheadedness, so stupid, they should have checked the fridge and the cupboards last night, at least then they could dive into a bowl of cereal, rather than a sad, pathetic egg. Still it was sustenance and would get them to the burger joint four blocks away where they could get a proper meal.
Yanking open the door, he grabbed the egg, butter and a ketchup packet. He grabbed the cheese too, only so he could throw it away before it stank up the entire appliance. Making short work of frying up the egg, he shoved it between two pieces of toasted bread, squirted the ketchup on it, and wolfed it down in six big bites, chewing the last one as he slid his wallet in his pocket and headed out the door.
Halfway down the block he encountered one of his neighbors sweeping her front porch in blue fuzzy slippers and a threadbare aqua bathrobe. Her steel gray hair was up in curlers save for one spiraling strand she kept shoving out of her face. He waved as he went buy, and pretended to ignore the way she narrowed her eyes at him and muttered about "crazy god damned freaks mucking up the neighbor, making good folks scared to come out of their houses at night."
If only she knew just how much they did to insure that the good folks on this side of town were safer, even if it seemed like the guys they took down and left tied up for police rarely spent more than a couple months in jail before they were out terrorizing folks again. It was thankless work, hell; even their day job answering insurance claim calls for one of the biggest firms in the city afforded them more praise than catching criminals. Good thing they wasn't in it for the glory or they'd be sorely disappointed.
Ducking into his favorite fast food place he order a couple breakfast sandwiches, two hash browns and an orange juice to go, munching as he walked down the street. It was almost fall, a crisp chilly wind blowing, causing the leaves to swirl in mini tornados down the block. He loved the reds and golds of the trees, and reminded himself to just take a weekend to head up into the hills, camp out and roast hot dogs over the fire.
Disgusting, Naill muttered, “if we are going to roast anything it ought to be steaks pan seared to perfection.”
He chuckled at that and conceded, declaring he could go along with that as long as they could have melting marshmallows between fudge stripped cookies for desert, rather than traditional s’mores, since the marshmallows never seemed to get hot enough to melt the chocolate completely. Of course Naill argued that it was because he always chose to purchase the king sized chocolate bars rather than the regular ones, owing to his addition to all things junk food, another source of contention between them.
Muttering to himself as he walked down the street was likely another reason folks looked at them strangely, but it gave him less of a headache than having the entire debate inside the brain they shared.
As with most of their internal monologues, one of them ended up the winner and the other ended up with their feelings hurt, which made Devlin wonder how they’d managed to live twenty-six years without trying to cause serious bodily harm to one another. The answer to that was simple, really, in those moments he was being honest with himself. He loved his brother and knew that his brother loved him, it was no fault of their own that they'd been born forced to co-exist in a single body, just like they hadn't been responsible for whatever cells had mutated inside them that allowed them to eat whatever they wishes without gaining a pound.
Still, maybe his brother was right and they needed to start eating healthier all the way around. Certainly with the help of the internet and the cooking channel they could manage passable meals.
“Thank you,” Naill replied and Devlin could feel that side of their mouth quirk up in a smile.
"If you wanna do the shopping go ahead," Devlin offered. "It's not as if I'd know what to buy anyway."
And that was how they ended up stepping through the automated doors of the grocery store with Naill in charge of their little shopping expedition.





I hope you enjoyed this first installment and come back next week for part 2.