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9/21/2013
Dear Editor: Just Because It's Not Active...Doesn't Mean It's Passive
Good morning. *sips coffee* Welcome to my humble abode on the web. I've been writing for three years now, having started back in October of 2010. I've learned a lot in that time. Many things I struggled to learn on my own (marketing, finding my voice, time management) and many things I've learned from other authors, industry professionals, and editors. Please excuse me if the following comes off as arrogant. Or just snort and drink your coffee and think I'm an idiot for quibbling about inconsequential things. Totally up to you.
Everyone is full of advice for writers; even people who have never written a word want to tell me how to write. I listen, weigh, and use what I believe is valuable.
It's easy to dismiss some things, especially when you consider the source.
It's harder to say that a publisher or an editor is wrong, especially when you can tell that there's a kernel of truth in what they're saying. Sometimes, as a person with a degree or two in the English language, I stare at the comments on my manuscript pages, dumbfounded.
More than once I've said WTF?
More than once I've taken your comments to my colleagues and asked for an interpretation.
More than once, I've shaken my head and rejected your suggestion, because it just didn't make sense.
I've received comments that sent me off to find the CMOS, or any other grammar guide for elucidation. Sometimes I've searched in vain, and had to accept that things aren't the way they used to be, just because you said so.
But sometimes, it's not me; it's you.
For example... I occasionally get comments of "passive" in my margins. ( Is there a term for heavy reliance on "state of being" verbs? Maybe we ought to come up with one that's not already in use?)
Passive vs. Active. - Passive and active writing does not mean what you think it means. In order to BE passive, a verb must first BE active. An active sentence is one in which a subject performs an action. A Passive sentence is one in which an action is performed on the subject.
He ate peanuts. (ate is an action verb)
Peanuts were eaten by him. (were eaten is a passive construction of the action verb eat)
A BEING verb, does not convey action and cannot be passive.
He was nuts. (Nuts was he... hmmm rather poetic but hardly sensible.)
He appeared nuts.
I did not FIX the passive nature of that sentence by changing the verb from was to appeared. Appeared is a BETTER word choice, but it is still NOT active. It's a linking verb (expressing state of being), and any word I substitute for was in that context will serve the same function. Otherwise, the sentence doesn't make sense. (Now, shouldn't I be showing you that he's nuts and not telling you? Sure, but that's an entirely different post.)
I even have a list of verbs from one publishing company that they have deemed "passive". What they meant, of course, was "These words are commonly overused in one way or another so please don't use them in your manuscript more than once or twice." I know this because I know that watch, listen and think are action verbs. I can use them in active sentences. I shouldn't use them in my ms, but for an entirely different reason than their supposed passivity.
The problem: When you tell me something is passive, you aren't actually referring to the voice. You're referring to the lack of action. Do I know what you mean? Well, I do NOW!
The solution: Tell me my passage is heavy on linking verbs, or that lengthy descriptive passages are boring. Tell me to break up the dull passages with actions, but don't tell me that it's passive. In grammar, passive does not mean simply inactive.
Simply put, an editor needs to use correct terminology. Otherwise, I think you don't know what you're talking about, and I don't trust your suggestions.
Everyone is full of advice for writers; even people who have never written a word want to tell me how to write. I listen, weigh, and use what I believe is valuable.
It's easy to dismiss some things, especially when you consider the source.
It's harder to say that a publisher or an editor is wrong, especially when you can tell that there's a kernel of truth in what they're saying. Sometimes, as a person with a degree or two in the English language, I stare at the comments on my manuscript pages, dumbfounded.
More than once I've said WTF?More than once I've taken your comments to my colleagues and asked for an interpretation.
More than once, I've shaken my head and rejected your suggestion, because it just didn't make sense.
I've received comments that sent me off to find the CMOS, or any other grammar guide for elucidation. Sometimes I've searched in vain, and had to accept that things aren't the way they used to be, just because you said so.
But sometimes, it's not me; it's you.
For example... I occasionally get comments of "passive" in my margins. ( Is there a term for heavy reliance on "state of being" verbs? Maybe we ought to come up with one that's not already in use?)
Passive vs. Active. - Passive and active writing does not mean what you think it means. In order to BE passive, a verb must first BE active. An active sentence is one in which a subject performs an action. A Passive sentence is one in which an action is performed on the subject.
He ate peanuts. (ate is an action verb)
Peanuts were eaten by him. (were eaten is a passive construction of the action verb eat)
A BEING verb, does not convey action and cannot be passive.
He was nuts. (Nuts was he... hmmm rather poetic but hardly sensible.)
He appeared nuts.
I did not FIX the passive nature of that sentence by changing the verb from was to appeared. Appeared is a BETTER word choice, but it is still NOT active. It's a linking verb (expressing state of being), and any word I substitute for was in that context will serve the same function. Otherwise, the sentence doesn't make sense. (Now, shouldn't I be showing you that he's nuts and not telling you? Sure, but that's an entirely different post.)
I even have a list of verbs from one publishing company that they have deemed "passive". What they meant, of course, was "These words are commonly overused in one way or another so please don't use them in your manuscript more than once or twice." I know this because I know that watch, listen and think are action verbs. I can use them in active sentences. I shouldn't use them in my ms, but for an entirely different reason than their supposed passivity.
The problem: When you tell me something is passive, you aren't actually referring to the voice. You're referring to the lack of action. Do I know what you mean? Well, I do NOW!
The solution: Tell me my passage is heavy on linking verbs, or that lengthy descriptive passages are boring. Tell me to break up the dull passages with actions, but don't tell me that it's passive. In grammar, passive does not mean simply inactive.
Simply put, an editor needs to use correct terminology. Otherwise, I think you don't know what you're talking about, and I don't trust your suggestions.
9/20/2013
Updated Discounts, Deals and Offers : M/M Romance on a Budget
Hey there! Great News! My publisher, Breathless Press has a selection of M.m romances on sale this week for only 99 CENTS!
A Beautiful Silence is 75% off at Smashwords with coupon code FN92H making it 0.99 until Sept. 22nd.
Included in that is my novella, Loving Eden
Eden St. Cyr wants to let the boy who's crushing on him down easy.
Drew Harris wants to protect his son from what he considers a disastrous relationship.
Neither of them counted on on the scorching attraction between them.
Pick up your copy at
for 99 cents
Limited Time Offer
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Smashwords Deals
(requires coupon codes)
A Beautiful Silence is 75% off at Smashwords with coupon code FN92H making it 0.99 until Sept. 22nd.
The Aristocrat & His Servant is FREE at Smashwords with coupon code TE58Y until Sept 21.
Under the Pier is FREE at Smashwords with coupon code QA58Q until Sept. 21.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9/19/2013
Crawl in Bed With Raven, Felicity, And Nash
Crawling Into Bed With Felicity Oakley and Nash Gretton
from Nash's Niche ( book four, Behind Closed Doors, the story of The Brigstock
Family)
And a Good Book
Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Felicity: Always silk. It
makes me feel much more sensual, and in touch with my romantic side. Yes I do
have one, even if it's well hidden.
She pokes Nash, he
grunts. "Huh? I didn't say a word. I prefer cotton, but I abide by my
lady's rules. In this anyway.
What are you wearing?
Felicity
*looks down* A muslin shift, with a chemise.
Nash: Much to my disgust. Chemises are worn simply to annoy
men
Felicity: true.
Nash: I'm in working gear. Boots, breeches and a tweed
thornproof jacket. I will be in noth...er a nightshirt I believe. Felicity
however will stay clothed, or put on that voluminous thick nightrail, and my
banyan over it.
What are we snacking
on in bed while we read tonight?
Felicity Cheese, Fruit,
and no bread. I hate crumbs under me. Or over me, or in places where someone
thinks they should be nibbled or licked.
Nash Spoilsport. *he
winks* But I always find crumbs. Cheese is very good for that.
If I open this nightstand
drawer, what will I find?
Felicity... You tell him.
I'm too much of a lady.
Nash *rolls eyes* Yes love. *they both burst out laughing*. A candle, no sorry three candles
varying thickness, an inking set, scissors, and some silk scarves. Oh and ouff, er… nothing else. *aside* Love that elbow very nearly
stopped us having any young Grettons.
Do you roll up in the
blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
Nash I get what's left.
Felicity it depends on
the weather. I prefer to roll up with Nash, and then roll us both in the
covers.
Can I put my cold feet
on your calves to warm them up?
Nash No.
Felicity. Well if you do
and he lets you I will be very upset. I do try and Nash does extract
retribution.
Nash That's why you try.
Felicity So true
What are we reading?
(include your cover art, buy links & excerpt)
Felicity *sigh* Oh it's our story. Nash's
Niche... *jumps out of bed, does a
little jig around the room and jumps back in* from
www.evernightpublishing.com
A wee tease...
What is it?"
Nash looked in the direction she was pointing. Set on the
table was a leather pouch, around seven inches long, and a mere one or so wide,
with several bulging pockets. "An inking set. To mark skin."
"For people?"
He inclined his head. "Or animals. To show to whom they
belong. You pierce the skin and add ink to where the puncture is. That leaves a
permanent marking. My animals are valuable, and this
way I can prove they are indeed mine. There will be no
thought of disputed ownership." He knew he sounded grim, but he had been
duped once, when he'd first set up his pack. It would never happen again.
Madame Felice knelt up and stretched over him to lift the
leather pouch. Nash had left it there the night before to remind himself to
take it back to Rutland with him.
"So can we use it? On us? To celebrate tonight? For
even if it matters little to you, it has shown me what lovemaking should be. If
I never feel like this again, then I'll have something to remind me." She
looked so eager, his heart jumped. It had meant something more than a fuck to
him as well.
"Why will this be the only time? We have other
nights," he told her, and watched her eyes cloud over.
"But this is our first." Her gaze skittered away
from his. "However, if you feel differently that is fine."
His decision made, Nash lifted her from him. "Stay
there whilst I get what we need." He collected cloths and water, scissors
and razor, in short shrift. "So where shall we mark? I thought here."
He ruffled the curls that covered her quim. "As close to heaven as we can
make it."
She nodded and sighed. "How beautiful. Will you mark
yourself the same?"
He shook his head and she went ashen.
"No, I won't mark myself. You'll do it for me. I will
however do the shaving. I'm not sure how well you would operate a cut throat
and strop, and I need my cock and balls to fill you again."
Her color returned
and she giggled, even though her eyes were still shadowed by some indefinable
sorrow. "Then who'll begin?"
"It's usually ladies first. Let me shave us both whilst
you decide on the design." He cut her curls as short as he could. Her eyes
widened as the cold steel skimmed over her skin. It seemed his lady was oh so
receptive to that cold touch. If only he had some ice he could introduce her to
many more sensations. Nash let the closed blades stroke her cleft, and laughed
softly as she gasped and took a deep shuddering breath. It was with reluctance
he put the scissors down and picked up the razor and strop and denuded a small
circle of hair just above the entrance to her channel. He wanted to pin her
under him, and tease every last inch of her with the chill of anticipation
before showing her how heat and cold could work so well together.
Later.
She didn't move but
watched him with wide eyes. Each scrape of the steel, each tiny piece of skin
that showed under his blade, brought more tiny drops of perspiration to her
skin. Her body had taken on a soft rosy sheen, her eyes cloudy with desire, and
Nash wanted her with a need so fierce it took his breath away. Carefully he set
the razor on the table and moved, to thrust his tongue between her lips. She
met it with a determination to match his, and then to his delight, pinched one
of his nipples. He had to force himself to move back.
"If we carry on no ink will be used, and you will be
bare for nothing."
9/18/2013
WIP Wednesday : Gerard and Martin -
Welcome back to WIP Wednesday. I am continuing my work on the regency Gerard's Gamble this week, at a little more than 12K, its about 1/3 done. The first phase of writing is over, and I'm moving into the second, central portion of the story, bringing in the last little bits of the smuggling/treason plot. It's interesting because I'm getting to include some research about Venice in the 1800's, and let me tell you, I would SO love to be able to travel there!
Okay- enough of the babbling.
Gerard's GAmble
copyright 2013 Lee Brazil
Okay- enough of the babbling.
Gerard's GAmble
copyright 2013 Lee Brazil
Helplessly,
Gerard stroked a palm down Martin's spine, cupped a taut buttock through the
silk of the banyon. It had come from one of their first ventures, a trading
ship to the East. The lush silk had netted them a small fortune, and Martin had
selected the elegant grey on grey print for his payment. Gerard had allowed his
siblings and spouse to do likewise, then the rest had been sold and the
proceeds reinvested. The banyon was a reminder of Martin's faith, his
friendship. Gerard calmed, the pain in his belly eased. He relaxed. Martin was
his friend, first and foremost. They understood each other.
He bent his head and inhaled a dear, familiar
fragrance, lemon and vanilla, a hint of other spices. "I think, that I
shall miss you more than any of the rest. The children will carry on, and that
is as it should be, but what of you my steadfast friend? What will you do? How
shall I picture you in my absence?"
Martin
pulled back and peered into Gerard's face, his expression slightly incredulous.
"I? You've left me the most daunting task of our careers. Riding herd on
your offspring like a Yankee cowboy. If you must picture me as you explore the
treasures of the continent, I do doubt you'll have time for it, picture me
tearing out fistfuls of my hair because Harold has managed to blow up some
national treasure, or wasting away from constant travel as Perry manages to
annoy all his brothers. Perhaps I shall grow wrinkled and squinty eyed from
worry as Randall insists on risking his life in service of our country.
Yes…"
Gerard
laughed until his stomach hurt. Bent double, he clutched his belly and gasped.
"Please. Stop. While I can well imagine Harry blowing up something, it is
more like to be Nash's ice house than a national treasure, and Perry has a good
heart, despite what he may show the world. They like and respect you Martin,
they always have. No…" He raised and a hand to stop more outrageous
commentary. "I mean …I wish to picture you happy."
"Then
picture me in the rose garden, digging up rocks and planting cuttings. Picture
me, at the desk in the study, balancing our accounts and realizing that we
could not only pay all the quarterly bills, but set aside a healthy portion for
the boys schooling. Picture me, teaching Randall to fence, and allowing Celia to
trod upon my toes as she practiced the forbidden Waltz."
*A
lump rose in Gerard's throat and he swallowed hard. Seeking to hide the tears
that threatened to spill over, he stepped back and let his gaze wander,
searching for his clothing. "Damnation." He whispered under his
breath as he realized his trousers were the only thing he'd been wearing when
he'd stumbled through the door hours earlier, lips locked with Martin's, body
humming with lust.
Gerard's Gamble is the third of my contributions to the Behind Closed Doors Series I am writing in conjunction with Raven McAllan.
Available at All Romance
9/17/2013
Fabulous Reviews: Randall's Romance at Mrs. Condit's & Friends
whoohoo! 5 Sweet Peas at Mrs. Condit's for Randall's Romance!
JOSIE’S OPINION: Randall’s Romance by Lee Brazil is a thoroughly enjoyable, steamy, action packed regency romp.
Randall's Romance is the first book in the Behind Closed Doors Series written in collaboration with Raven McAllan.
Available at All Romance
9/16/2013
Top Five: The Spin Doctors
Good morning and welcome back to Monday! *sips coffee* *pushes pot across* Caffeine?
Dashing back to the 90's this morning, because hey, not only was I twenty years younger then, but I could actually stay awake for 72 hours straight if the right combination of music, books, company and caffeine were available...*spins* I love this group, and I always forget how much until I hear them again. This usually begins with an overwhelming urge to listen to Cleopatra's Cat and then from there....
Then the lyrics get stuck in my head and... yeah.
The Spin Doctors
1. Little Miss Can't Be Wrong
2. Jimmy Olsen Blues
3. Two Princes
4. What Time Is It?
5. Cleopatra's Cat
9/15/2013
New Video from Steve Grand - Loving It!
If you liked All American Boy, then you're going to love this one!
*Sigh*
It's lovely.
9/14/2013
Cover Reveal: Loving Bailey
Coming in October
Loving Bailey
Rejected by his first crush, Bailey Harris finds real love in the arms of a college professor.
9/13/2013
9/12/2013
Crawl in Bed With a Barrow Wight
Crawling Into Bed With a Barrow Wight
And a Good Book
Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
*A hot, lustful gaze travels over Lee. The barrow wight licks lush, ripe lips and moves closer to his host, not quite touching him* Why, my dear, nothing so ordinary. I have the finest cashmere blankets in which to wrap your tender skin.
*gulps* *flushes* Oh.... um...What are you wearing?
*The wight looks amused*Only my heart, lovely one. *He fingers the blanket covering them and leans against Lee, breath warm in his ear*May I see what you're wearing, darling?
*jerks back* Um...*glances frantically around for distraction* What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
*Hunger flashes in the wight's green eyes as he imagines the slide of rich marrow down his throat as he sucks Lee's sweet bones. He shakes his head to clear it, having promised Callum he'd behave. He traces Lee's lips with an unsteady finger* Brandy and chocolates to fill your pretty mouth.
*shivers* Oh my ....If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?
*A tender smile transforms the wight's face, making him bewitchingly lovely* Silk scarves and scented oils for my beautiful Callum. Also, some trinkets from the gruagach, Liam. He knows I enjoy pretty things. *His gaze once again ravishes Lee. His voice drops to almost a whisper* There are also stray bones from my more precious lovers. I can't bring myself to part with them.
*swallows hard and measures the distance to the exit* Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
I am never cold, pet. The covers are for your benefit. *His smile turns wicked and he tugs on the plush blankets* Of course if you're too warm we can do away with these.
*blinks* Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?
*Lust darkens the barrow wight's eyes* Sweet man, you can put your feet anywhere you like. *He barely stops himself from pushing Lee onto his back, sighs and glances around the room* Don't we have a story to read?
*sighs in relief* Oh yes, story. That's what we're here for. What are we reading?
Callum's Fate
(Down on the Farm Anthology)
Breathless Press: http://www.breathlesspress.com/
Callum came to the farm to find a home, but will he find his last resting place instead?
Excerpt:
Callum ran until his lungs burned; every breath ragged, painful. Fear spurred him on, though fog began to cling to the rough mounds of the barrows, making such flight dangerous. Stones stabbed through his worn boots with each footfall, but he daren't stop. There had been voices in the shadows...
Exhaustion slowed him, his chest heaving as he fought for air. Dusk began to lay its dark mantle on the landscape and he shivered as a finger of dread traveled his spine. Dangerous to be on the moors at night without shelter. He cursed the ill fortune that had sent him this way, but he was hungry and ill. He'd followed the will-o-the-wisp, thinking they were the lights of a farmhouse. His brothers would crudely have called them swamp gas and continued on the road, but Callum had always been the fool.
An owl hooted in the semi-darkness making his skin crawl. "Sweet lord," he muttered, heart thumping. "Protect me—"
He stumbled on a loose stone and fell heavily against a dark mound of earth.Oh God! The ground caved in under him and he dropped into the barrow in a shower of dirt.
"Save me!" he sobbed as he scrambled to his knees. Sinewy arms reached up from the blackness and wrapped around him. Callum screamed, but no sound escaped his throat, choked with terror. He was yanked against a hard chest and hands ran over him, disembodied in the darkness.
"Soft. Sweet." A voice sliced the silence, a cold breath against his face. He gagged on the waft of rot and decay. The tip of a dry tongue scraped over his jaw and he shuddered against the body under him. "Nice strong bones to gnaw," the voice continued. "Sweet marrow to suck and swallow. Shall I eat you, my lovely one?"
Callum whimpered as the low tones wound through his head. The mists parted and moonlight filled the barrow, showing him the creature. He gasped at the cold beauty of its face. Eyes dark as pitch burned into him, brushed against his soul. Lush lips, dripping honey, overripe, took his mouth in a kiss that sent his pulse into a riot of hunger and desire.
A vague warning sounded in his head, urging him to run. The wight's hands slid down his back and squeezed his ass and Callum groaned as he was rocked against the long, hard length of the creature's erection. His own cock grew heavy, aching as it rubbed along the impossible thickness of the ghoul's shaft.
Nimble fingers pushed against his balls and sensitive hole through his clothing and Callum's deep moan spilled into the lush mouth sucking his tongue. There'd been a boy back home he'd touched on occasion, but they'd never... He never... But the thought of the wight's huge cock sliding into him, stretching him open, filled him with a wild lust he couldn't control.
He trembled and sobbed with need as the creature in the guise of this beautiful man trailed kisses down his neck. It moved his long hair aside to nibble at his collar bone. The thing's hand reached between them and clutched his cock, and pleasure, hot as fire, swept through him.
The wight's plump lips returned to his ear. "Stay with me," it whispered as he stroked and squeezed him into a frenzy of bliss.
Callum fought to catch his breath, dizzy. "Yes." He panted. He'd promise anything to keep the creature stroking his dick. The wight's other hand snaked into his trousers, tugged his ball sack, and he shouted as he came, his orgasm ripping through him in waves of ecstasy. His seed spilled in a warm gush into the creature's hand. Even when he was spent, the thing continued to pull on his sensitive cock, sending unbearable sparks of bliss through him. He fell weeping against its chest, begging to be let go.
"Mine."
The wight's whisper nudged Callum from the dream he was falling into. What?
Dianne Hartsock
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/diannehartsock
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dianne-Hartsock/e/B005106SYQ/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1361897239&sr=8-1
Discount Update: Truth Deeper Than Logic
Did you know I've written paranormal? I have! and it's on Special Offer this week at Breathless Press!
When Daniel died, he'd chosen to live among them for simple reasons. He felt closer to his lover walking among his descendents. He took a warped pride in the growth and the progress of the town Daniel had started, in the prosperity of Daniel's people even as their growth and progress had overtaken his woods. Perhaps some fatalistic part of him believed that the circle of life would one day claim him, had known that they would one day kill him.
Truth Deeper Than Logic
His lover's death filled Nate Hawthorn with rage. From that time were born legends of bloodthirsty cats and killer bears, of humans entering the woods and never leaving.
Legend exaggerated, and he had calmed down and accepted the transiency of human life. Fragile, defenseless, but curious, brave, and loving. He'd allowed their presence in his valley in the beginning because they intrigued him with their resourceful cleverness in turning their fragile bodies into a strength rather than the weakness he'd taken them for.
When Daniel died, he'd chosen to live among them for simple reasons. He felt closer to his lover walking among his descendents. He took a warped pride in the growth and the progress of the town Daniel had started, in the prosperity of Daniel's people even as their growth and progress had overtaken his woods. Perhaps some fatalistic part of him believed that the circle of life would one day claim him, had known that they would one day kill him.
When Seth Greenwood, a junior architect with a local firm who dreamed of bigger things, pinned his hopes for career advancement on a project that required the use of Nate's land, Nate realized how much he wanted to live. And how very much he wanted Seth.
Only
99 cents
at
9/11/2013
9-11
On September 11, 2001 - I stood in a classroom full of eager young learners, fighting back tears, hiding a breaking heart, hiding FEAR. Despite Vietnam, despite Iraq, I grew up in a world where we slept soundly in our beds at night, without worrying about the threat of violence.
September 11, 2001- stole our security, stole the innocence from our children. They live daily with the knowledge that we can be hurt, our buildings brought down, our fathers and mothers and children killed, our lives destroyed.
We live our lives differently in the wake of 9-11, with the knowledge that it could all be taken away, through no fault of our own.
Never forget what happened that day. If you love someone, tell them. Don't wait for a rainy day to enjoy life and the people who make it worth living.
September 11, 2001- stole our security, stole the innocence from our children. They live daily with the knowledge that we can be hurt, our buildings brought down, our fathers and mothers and children killed, our lives destroyed.
We live our lives differently in the wake of 9-11, with the knowledge that it could all be taken away, through no fault of our own.
Never forget what happened that day. If you love someone, tell them. Don't wait for a rainy day to enjoy life and the people who make it worth living.
WIP Wednesday: Gerard's Gamble
This week I'm working on the final book in the Regency series, Behind Closed Doors that I'm writing with Raven McAllan. This story focus's on Gerard Gretton, Lord Brigstock, and his search for love in his later years. In the first book of the series, we saw him departing England's fair shores for the continent in search of a long lost love.
In Gerard's Gamble, he returns.
EXCERPT
(Remember- these are unedited, raw excerpts and may be significantly changed in the final version.)
In Gerard's Gamble, he returns.
EXCERPT
(Remember- these are unedited, raw excerpts and may be significantly changed in the final version.)
"Good evening, My
lord." The bench rocked a bit as Gerard straddled it.
"The deed is done." The
sat in silence for a few moments, Martin steadfastly gazing at a horizon that
was too close, his heart tripping every few beats as he struggled to hide how
the other man's nearness affected him. He could feel Gerard's unsettled
emotions, sense his agitation.
"How did they take the
news?"
"With characteristic aplomb
and a distinct lack of furor. I wonder if they'll miss me at all or if they're just
secretly breathing sighs of relief to have me off their backs and out of their
way?"
His head snapped around and
Martin glared at Gerard. "Of course they'll miss you! Those children
positively dote upon you!"
"Those children are full grown
adults who haven't listened to a word I've said since they were breeched. Even
Cecy smiles and nods and goes about her merry way as though I were in my dotage."
A self-deprecating gesture accompanied the words. "They've got everything
I can give them, financial security, a respectably place in society, education
and moral fortitude. I’m not needed."
I need you. He wanted to shout it out so loud the stable
boys would hear it.
Available at All Romance
9/10/2013
Fabulous Reviews : The Man Trap at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words
Taking the opportunity to highlight the wonderful reviews I've received.
"Lee Brazil’s descriptions, whether they are of a balloon ride over the countryside (which I can attest the author got exactly right), to the wonderful romantic whisperings of love, ”I’ve saved up a thousand kisses, thousands of experiences, I only want to share with you, Alexi” , will sweep you into the story and the lives of Simon and Alexis. "
Read More at scatteredthoughtsandroguewords
The Man Trap is available at
9/09/2013
Top Five : Movies That Make Me Laugh
The video store was the center of some people's lives, and when a new tape came out, we had lines longer than the cinema. (Because people thought it was a big gyp to pay $5 to get into the cinema. Boy, would those folks get the shock of a lifetime now! )
Anyway, I was a big fan of comedy, action, and western movies. Here's a list of Five movies that STILL make my stomach ache with laughter.
1. Johnny Dangerously -
2. Stripes - Bill Murray
3. The Great Outdoors -
4. Moving
5. The Pink Panther
______________________________________________________
9/08/2013
Fabulous Review : Harold's Havan
Very Excited to See a New Review This Morning!
A Fabulous 4.5 kiss review from Jack at Top2Bottom for my latest Regency era historical, Harold's Haven.
"From the moment Harold bursts into the office of his brother Peregrine oblivious to those around him I was in love. His disheveled appearance, smudged glasses and annoyance at being diverted from his work had me hooked. Harold Gretton is an inventor and scientist so when he is summoned to the Home Office as a matter of national security he is stunned and demands an explanation – in 15 words or less. Smitten, I am still totally smitten"
Intrigued? You can pick up your own copy of Harold's haven at
9/07/2013
Guest Appearance at Raven's
Good morning all! I'm discussing my reading this week over at Raven's Ramblings...
"I enjoy mysteries, biographies, historical epics,
fantasies, classics and adventures… There are very few books I've picked up
that I didn't like. I attribute this to growing up with only three television channels."
Stop on over and share your reading adventures!
9/06/2013
Current offers: Discounted or Free MM Romances!
Sexy, short, erotic, contemporary, historical, m/m romances at bargain prices!
Just gathering all my "deal" links in one post for all of you who might be interested!
If you do your shopping on Smashwords, there are 2 more books on offer that you might want to know about!
You can get The Aristocrat and His Servant free with code TE58Y
and
Under the Pier free with this code: QA58Q
And, while it's not free, you can get my first book, A Beautiful Silence, at Smashwords for only 99 cents. (3.99 everywhere else!) with coupon code FN92H
Then, for my ARE shoppers, I have a couple of bargains on over there right now:
You can get my super short, erotic but sweet, May /December romance NOTHING TO FORGIVE free at are, just follow this link!
In the Don't Read in the Closet Anthology, you'll find my short, Be A Bad Boy.
And in the Anthology Love is Always Write, I have a short called Devil's Halo.
Last but not least, over at ARE there's a fun little short we wrote on FB as a round robin, about a dozen of us all together. It's called BACK-UP.
9/05/2013
Crawl in Bed With KJ Charles
Crawl in Bed With KJ Charles
And A Good Book
*crawls into bed* *Settles on pillows* Important
things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Cotton, but a high thread count.
Ahhh. These are the finer things in
life, aren't they? What are you wearing?
Wearing? In bed?
EEP! *covers eyes* It's so much simpler
when people wear clothes to these things! *peeks between fingers* What are we
snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
Single malt Scotch, Laphroaig for
preference. Smoky, sophisticated, strong.
*hums* Now that is a fine beverage. If I open this nightstand drawer, what
will I find?
Don't look in there. No, really,
*don't*.
That makes me even more curious! Are you
sure? *reaches for drawer pull* Yikes! Okay…*snatches hand back* No need to
glower. Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off
during the night?
I mostly get into life-or-death battles
with the pillow.
Those pillows can be ruthless. *nods*
Well then, can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?
Only if you're hungry for death.
*inches away* Okay then. I'll... um…make
sure to keep over here where it's safe. What are we reading?
The Magpie Lord by KJ Charles
Blurb:
Exiled to China for twenty years, Lucien
Vaudrey never planned to return to England. But with the mysterious deaths of
his father and brother, it seems the new Lord Crane has inherited an earldom.
He’s also inherited his family’s enemies. He needs magical assistance, fast. He
doesn’t expect it to turn up angry.
Magician Stephen Day has good reason to
hate Crane’s family. Unfortunately, it’s his job to deal with supernatural
threats. Besides, the earl is unlike any aristocrat he’s ever met, with the
tattoos, the attitude…and the way Crane seems determined to get him into bed.
That’s definitely unusual.
Soon Stephen is falling hard for the
worst possible man, at the worst possible time. But Crane’s dangerous appeal
isn’t the only thing rendering Stephen powerless. Evil pervades the house, a
web of plots is closing round Crane, and if Stephen can’t find a way through
it—they’re both going to die.
Extract
Crane lunged. Stephen ducked, jinked
sideways and retreated in earnest as Crane went for him, far faster than he’d
anticipated. He skipped backwards and found Crane had backed him against the
desk again. The taller man grabbed him, astonishingly hard, and threw him
backwards, so that the breath burst out of him, and before he could move, Crane
was over him, pinning him down.
Stephen’s back was on the desk, and his
feet didn’t reach the floor. Crane leaned on him, bodies pressed close,
pinioning his wrists above his head, face dark with anger.
It occurred to Stephen Day that he had
just made a fairly spectacular misjudgement.
“I apologise for that.” He spoke as
calmly as possible, trying to ignore the pressure of Crane’s body against his.
“It was in the way of an experiment, to see how fast you’d shake it. You’re
developing surprisingly rapid resistance to fluence.”
“Perhaps that’s because people keep
doing it to me,” said Crane through his teeth.
Stephen’s brows drew together slightly.
“I think you may be right, at that. How—”
“No,” said Crane. “I’m asking the
questions.”
He was pressing down painfully on
Stephen’s wrists, taut body just over Stephen’s, hard and intent and all too
close to the night’s imaginings. Stephen swallowed, cursing the betraying rush
of blood, wishing he dared shift position.
“This is quite uncomfortable.”
“Good. I remembered what happened last
night.”
“Nothing happened,” said Stephen
instantly, defensively.
“Yes, it did. There was a ghost.”
“Oh—well, yes—”
“But that wasn’t what you had in mind,
was it?”
Stephen bit his lip. Control this. “Why
don’t you tell me what you think happened last night?”
Crane’s lips drew back in a snarl. “What
I think is that I was about to have you right there in the garden. I think you
were about two minutes from being flat on your back in the grass.”
Stephen felt the blood recede from his
face. Brilliant, Steph, well played.
“And…” Crane shifted his leg up so that
it rubbed against Stephen’s painfully tight groin, ridding him of the
admittedly faint hope that Crane hadn’t noticed his arousal. “I think you’re
two minutes from the same thing right now.”
“Oh God,” said Stephen involuntarily. He
couldn’t tell if Crane meant it, or what he meant. A dizzying pulse of
excitement was making it difficult to think. Crane’s body was hard against him,
and he could feel the larger man’s cock, pressing against his stomach.
“Listen—”
“Shut the fuck up!” It was a shout, but
Crane’s voice moved immediately to a savage purr. “I want to make you pay for
that right now, you manipulative little bastard. I want to make you pay, and
you know it, and…” His mouth curled, and he shoved his thigh cruelly against
Stephen’s erection again. “And you like it. In fact, I suspect there’s nothing
you’d like better. Is there?”
Stephen couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.
“Well?”
Stephen licked his lips. “What do you
want me to say?” His voice sounded breathy in his own ears.
“Tell me why you did that to me last
night. And don’t lie to me. I know what you wanted, what you want. So why did
you do it?”
He did not want to answer that. “I— It
was—”
“You wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”
Stephen shut his eyes. “Briefly.”
Crane lowered his head so his mouth was
right on Stephen’s ear, voice vibrating, teeth and tongue touching the
sensitive flesh. “When I fuck you, Mr. Day, it will not be briefly. It will be
long and hard and extremely thorough. I’m going to take pains with you.”
Stephen whimpered, helpless to stop
himself, tilting his hips so his cock rubbed against Crane’s body. Crane thrust
back hard, once, grinned mirthlessly at Stephen’s gasp, and leaned back with a
look of victory in his eyes.
“Let’s consider this in the nature of
reparations.” He shifted one hand so that it pinioned both of Stephen’s wrists
and moved his free hand to his belt.
I'm on Tiwtter at kj_charles, and blog
at http://kjcharleswriter.wordpress.com, or find me on Goodreads and Facebook!
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