Monday, August 31, 2015

Monday Morning Inspiration: A Poem

Writer’s Path

Sometimes we write
And the words dance on paper
Intricate waltzes of muse and imagination
Characters leap, pirouette
Twisting through plot holes
Diving into vats of purple prose
Swimming through misplaced commas
Misspelled words
Conjunctions, conjecture
Who knows what’s in the mind
Introspection, maybe?
Show them life, don’t tell about it
Budding friendship with the thesaurus
And that growing list of baby names
Makes the story stronger
Helps it grow
We all grow through words and wonder
On that slipping, sliding path in authorhood
Where books are the stage
And characters the stars

And the end is only an illusion

Friday, August 28, 2015

Fighting His Fire by Ann Lister Release Day Blog Tour: Review, Buy Links, and Excerpts

Rainbow Lyrics and Mellow Mushrooms would like to wish a happy release day to Ann Lister with her latest smokin' hot Rock Gods novel Fighting His Fire. Holy Cow everyone, when I say smoking hot, I mean that this novel nearly set my kindle on FIRE!!!!


Locked-down at a Los Angeles intervention facility, everyone around Dante Dupont and his Black Ice band mate, Ashton Lane, thought this would fix the issues between them. Dante and Ashton knew differently. What made this a hundred times worse was the fact they were stuck in this room together. They hadn't shared space like this since the one afternoon they both wanted to forget. And, revisiting that nightmare was not an option . . . with or without the help of a therapist.

Two musicians. Same band. Afraid to admit their true feelings, being in close quarters again has them both at their breaking point. They say if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen, but neither of them can find a reason to leave, and fighting the fire is becoming more and more difficult to do.

Dante's baggage isn't pretty and his scars run deep, but Ashton might be the one to finally see beyond his past and help him find a way out from the smoke screen he's spent his life hiding behind. In order to get there, though, they'll both have to walk through the flames.

You can add it to your TBR on Goodreads here:

Excerpt One:  
            Ashton wasn't so sure he would be able to handle Dante. He drew in a long breath, though, and tried to regain his composure. Dante surely could be a cocky bastard, but so could Ashton. He'd never once felt inadequate or unskilled in bed and Ashton wasn't about to allow Dante that kind of power of thinking he was either of those things now. Their personalities were alike in many ways and that knowledge had Ashton feeling more in control of the situation then he probably was.
            Go big or go home, right? Ashton thought.
            “I hope you'll be playing with your A game, Sparky,” Ashton said. “Because I brought some of my own heat to this party.”

            “I'm counting on it,” Dante replied.

Social Links:

Excerpt Two:  

            Dante stood in the doorway with his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans and watched Ashton strum on an acoustic guitar, then occasionally stop to write down notes onto a piece of paper. When Dante shifted his weight against the doorjamb, Ashton finally noticed his presence. His blond head lifted and the smile he gave Dante made his heart clench.
            “Is this where you've been hiding all day?” Dante's grin was wide in return.
            “Not all day,” Ashton replied. “Maybe for the last several hours, though.”
            “I forgot you played guitar,” Dante said, still not moving from his position on the doorjamb.
            Ashton nodded. “I also play piano.”
            Dante chuckled and said, “You're a one-man band.”
            “No way. I love beating on my skins too much.”
            Dante stepped further into the room. “I wanted to let you know that they brought dinner to our room, if you're interested.”
            “Did you already eat?” Ashton asked.
            “I was waiting for you,” Dante returned.
            Ashton set the guitar back in the stand beside the chair and stood up. After he grabbed his notes from the table, he walked over to Dante at the door and together they walked back to their room. “It smells like pot roast,” Ashton commented as he stepped into the bedroom.
            “It is,” Dante answered with a grin. “I peeked.”
            “I love pot roast,” Ashton offered.
            “I know. That's why I went looking for you,” Dante answered. “I knew you wouldn't want to miss this.”
            This time they sat at the table together to eat, instead of on opposite sides of the room. “It's weird being able to walk around this place now,” Ashton said.
            “I kept waiting for someone to shove my ass back in here and lock the damn door again,” Dante added. Dante glanced at the piece of lined paper on the table beside Ashton. “Were you writing?”
            “I was messing around on that guitar and inspiration struck,” Ashton said.
            “I love it when that happens,” Dante added.
            “Wanna hear it?” Ashton offered.
            When Dante nodded, Ashton began to hum out a slow, rolling melody that made Dante's skin prickle. It was good, and Dante suddenly had the urge to add lyrics to go with the music. “As soon as we finish eating, let's go get that guitar and see if we can finish what you started.”
            Ashton's eyebrows lifted at that suggestion. He loved writing music with Dante and sadly, as the rift between them grew, the music between them died. “I'd really like that,” Ashton said. “I can't remember the last time we wrote together.”
            “It's been too long, Ashes.”
            Hearing the sentiment in his nickname had emotion biting at Ashton's eyes. He'd missed this so much his chest felt tight. For the first time in quite a while, Ashton had hope that he and Dante might find a way back to where they once were.
            It was sometime during the pre-dawn hours when Dante and Ashton felt satisfied with their song. The music came from Ashton, but the lyrics were all Dante.

            ~ I Am The Phoenix ~
            Caught between pleasure and pain.
            The ache can feel like bliss.
            I scratch and claw my way through sin
            to live with you like this.
            Tumbling free from life itself,
            I found my way to you.
            I shed the skin that held my past,
            and began again as new.
            I rose up from your Ashes,
            like a Phoenix taking flight.
            Fighting the fire beneath my talons,
            I will rise into your light.

Book Review: 
God I loved this book. I’m not one to wander through my house gushing over something I read, but that is just what I did last night when I finished reading Fighting His Fire by Ann Lister. After a long afternoon of writing, I happily curled up in my chair, thinking I would read a few chapters before bed. A few chapters turned into the entire book in one sitting, as in not even pausing to grab a coffee or nothing, I was that engrossed in the story.

Not only do we have the super hotness of two majorly sexy rockers, but we’ve got angst, lots of it. The novel kicks things off with an intervention and two guys, Ashton and Dante who seemingly hate each other to the point where they can’t even be in the same room together without trying to beat the hell out of one another.

As being forced to cohabitate a room together begins to wear on them and the therapist begins to chip away at each of their issues, secrets begin to be revealed that quite honestly left me a crying mess. I love when an author can make me hurt with her characters and Ann Lister was able to do that several times over the course of the story. She made me fall in love with Ashton and Dante, care about what they were feeling and how they were handling things and what was going to happen between them.

These guys were real and explosive and passionate about their music and their feelings. I kept feeling like there was something that still remained hidden about Ashton that hasn’t been revealed yet, but knowing there are books to come I wasn’t left worrying that we wouldn’t find out. I also didn’t find myself lost by not having read the previous book, this worked amazing as a standalone despite the fact that there were clearly characters from previous novels involved.

I’m not going to give any spoilers, this is one you just need to pick up and read, I highly recommend having the tissues ready, at least in the beginning, because wow, just wow. Ann’s writing style is beautiful, flowing, gritty, emotional and very easy to read. I plan on going back and picking up the rest of the series for a binge reading marathon.

This book is five smokin’ hot dancin’ hamster good. 

BUY LINKS: Amazon US: 
Amazon UK: 
Amazon AU: 

There is a celebratory giveaway with amazing prizes!! Here's the link for you to enter:

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Charley Descoteaux's Buchanan House: Blurb, Excerpt and Buy Links

Greeting, thank you for dropping in to read the blog today. I've got a great new release by Charley Descoteaux to promote today: Buchanan House. I hope you will all check out the beautiful cover and blurb, I know I am looking forward to picking up my copy. 


Eric Allen, thirty-three-year-old line cook, moved in with his grandmother, Jewell, after a disastrous coming-out when he was in middle school. She raised him, and he cared for her when she fell ill. When Jewell died she left everything to Eric—angering his parents and older brother. The inheritance isn’t much, but Eric and his bestie Nathan pool their money and buy an abandoned hotel on an isolated stretch of the Central Oregon Coast. The hotel isn't far from Lincoln City—a town with its own Pride Festival and named for a president—so they christen it Buchanan House after James Buchanan, the “confirmed bachelor” president with the close male friend.

Eric and Nathan need a handyman to help them turn Buchanan House into the gay resort of their dreams. Eric finds Tim Tate in the local listings and over the months leading to opening weekend Tim reveals himself as a skilled carpenter with many hidden talents. Eric falls hard for Tim, but before he can see a future with the gorgeous handyman he has to get over twenty years of being bullied and shamed by his birth family. It would be much easier if Eric’s brother Zach weren’t trying to grab part of the inheritance or ruin opening weekend.

Excerpt (Rated G; 432 words):

Timothy Tate knocked on the front doors at eight o’clock sharp. Eric had barely been up long enough to start coffee, and Nathan had yet to emerge. They’d slept in one of the rooms on the first floor. The official reason was to avoid having to clean two rooms, but the unofficial reason was to talk into the night like they had back in middle school. Slumber parties for thirtysomethings. Somehow that didn’t make Eric feel any better about meeting this Tim person.

But opening the door sure did.

Tim Tate was as tall as Nathan, so six one, and he had curly black hair and eyes so dark you could get lost in them.

“Morning.” He wasn’t much for smiling, though.

“Good morning. Please come in. I’m Eric.”

Tim nodded and seemed to be looking at something behind Eric’s right shoulder. As soon as Eric remembered to step aside, Tim came in. “You bought this place?”

“Yes. Isn’t it lovely? The inspector said the bones are solid, and someone did amazing work on the rooms. Right now, we need help with the kitchen and some reno on the public areas.”

“Should tear it down and start fresh.”

“I beg your pardon. That’s a horrible thing to say. You don’t discard something just because it’s not perfect. With a little love—maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

Tim shrugged and looked around the room. His face seemed to soften into… nostalgia? It held a wistful quality, of that much Eric was certain.

“Have you been in this room before?”

Tim had turned away a little, so the left side of his face pointed toward Eric.

Is that his best side?

He didn’t answer, so Eric repeated the question, a little louder.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. When I was a kid. Sometimes the local clubs would use it for summer camps. It’s been empty for over ten years.”

“Why? I mean, did something happen here?”

“No. The owners died, and their kids didn’t want to live out here. Can’t blame ’em. Entertainment isn’t easy to come by.”

Nathan chose that moment to enter, in his pink robe with the ostrich-feather trim. He spoke quickly, almost dancing through the room and toward the aroma of coffee. “Good morning. You don’t mind I borrowed your robe? And this must be Tim. Lovely to meet you, sweetheart. Coffee, then business.” He flounced into the kitchen.

Eric and Tim watched him go. The silence in his wake stretched out a little too long for Eric, mortified by the thought Tim might believe the robe belonged to him.

Buy Buchanan House:


Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and floods, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.

Rattle Charley’s cages:

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: August 19, 2015
46,658 words

Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

On Writing and Passing It On

Today, as I drove home from back to school shopping with my daughter, I listened to her talk about the story she’s been writing for the past few weeks, how it was progressing and all the brainstorming she’d been doing to come up with different plot twists and character traits. The more I listened, the more I was reminded of myself at her age, when I first fell in love with writing.

As a child, I loved to read, it was my favorite thing on earth.  I loved being outdoors when I could be, but books were always my escape, and at some point, I began to ask myself ‘what if?’ What if the characters in the story had done this instead of that? What if this character had responded to this other character a different way? What if I could introduce my own character into that world, what would happen?

I’m almost forty, so obviously this was long before the days of ‘fan fiction’ heck, this was pre-internet, pre-cell phone, pre-in-home-computer, pre-every tech convenience we had today.  Everything I wrote was pen and paper much as all my first drafts still are today, and my favorite places in the world were the library on the military base where we lived, and the used bookstore where I worked my first job shelving books.

I have to admit that on slow days, and many were slow days, I spent as much time skimming chapters as I did putting the books away. I learned to appreciate all different types of writing, from the classics, to modern literature, to fantasy, science fiction, and romance, if a story spoke to me, I settled in to read. I love the fact that my little girl is the same way. She has wonderfully eclectic taste in books, movies and music and the older she gets the more I am able to introduce her to.

Books taught me that there was beauty to be found in everything, and photography has only enhanced that belief. As a writer, I try to pull all of that into my stories. The things that are beautiful on the outside as well as the things you have to dig deeper into in order to find the beauty of. To me, that’s a reality of life. I have several stories coming up in which characters struggle to see the good or the beauty in themselves and others. While these are some of my favorite pieces to write, in this upcoming writing year, I am looking to branch out from that.

Some of the things I have been tossing around in my head are: exploring M/M/M and M/F/M as I’ve been curious to write a few ménage stories, avian shapeshifters, superheroes/magic users, and western romance. I hate the idea of being pigeonholed into any one style or category of writing, especially when I have ideas on top of ideas that range over a large scope of topics.

This brings me back to my daughter, brainstorming story plots, and the joy of having learned that no idea is impossible with hard work, research and dedication to craft.  Becoming an author has been one of my greatest joys in life. Knowing I have stories to tell and that there are people out there who enjoy reading them makes me proud to have followed my dream. 

Thursday, August 13, 2015

A Sneak Peek at Guitars and Cages pt. 2

Here it is, as promised. Still in the writing phase right now, but the first draft of the new novel is very close to completion. This is from the opening chapter, which takes place a few weeks after the end of Guitars and Cages.

“Can we go feed the ducks when we’re done eating?” Rory asked, his face smeared with mustard. Alexia giggled and wiped the mustard away.

“Sure,” she told him.

Rory leaned against his uncle and gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Will you come too?”

Asher couldn’t help but grin. He was a sucker for that look. “Sure, as long as you promise one thing.”

“I won’t bring the whipped cream can with me,” Rory assured him, making every one laugh again.

“No. Not that. Promise you’ll save me from the evil geese this time instead of laughing at me?” Asher asked.

Rory grinned, happily nodding his head.

Across the table, Morgan raised an eyebrow.” Evil geese?”

“Yeah,” Asher said, gazing towards the pond. “I brought Rory here to play catch and they chased me until I gave them the ball.”

“I told you they thought you’d taken one of their eggs away,” Rory commented.

“If they chase me again I’ll do more than take an egg; I’ll stuff ‘um with chestnuts and roast them for Christmas dinner,” Asher muttered.

“But Christmas is still really far away,” Rory pointed out.

“Then it will be good practice,” Asher shot back, pouting.

Conner chuckled and gave Asher’s arm a squeeze. “I’ll protect you from the evil, rampaging geese.”

Asher turned to him and grinned. “Thanks, at least someone cares.” Still grinning he stuck his tongue out at Rory who responded by making funny faces at him.

“And who’s supposed to be the adult here?” Morgan laughed.

“You,” Alexia fired back before tickling Rory.

It took a while for the food to be consumed along with strawberry shortcake and cookies for desert, heavy on the whipped cream for everyone except Alexia who’d declared it fattening.”

“Women look amazing with curves, sis,” Asher pointed out gently. “You’re beautiful. Little whipped cream isn’t gonna hurt you.”

Alexia’s eyes brightened at the compliment and she let him decorate her strawberry shortcake with a little whipped cream. She’d never imagined her brother could be so accepting, especially after the first day at his apartment when he’d seen the changes she’d made to herself. But since he’d moved back over the bar, she’d seen the Asher who’d tried to take in every stray when they were little, who’d bottle-fed kittens when their mom got run over in the road, and who’d washed her skinned knees when she’d fallen and hurt herself trying to keep up with her brothers.

As she dug into her dessert, she remembered how he was the only one who’d never called her a pest, or mocked her for being afraid of storms. He’d just let her crawl into bed with him and hold her while the lightning and the thunder warred outside the window. Sometimes he’d even made up stories about them being gods or giants fighting and she’d fallen asleep to one of his fantastic tales.

She was almost done when he stood and picked up Rory, put the little boy on his shoulders and handed him the bread, carrying him to the pond with Conner and his camera following.

“That’s the Asher I remember,” she said softly, looking across the table at her father.

“That’s the Asher I’ve missed,” Morgan said, staring after the young man fondly.

“I know he still misses Cole, I-I just hope that he never resents me for causing the rift between them.”

“You didn’t cause the rift between them and I need you to stop thinking that way. Cole’s stubbornness caused, it and I hope one day he’ll come to his senses and fix it.”

She gave him a small, tense smile that just made him wish he could erase all the hurts of the past.

“Why don’t you join them around the pond,” he suggested, as the sounds of laughter drifted across the field.

“But…” She gestured to the things on the table that still needed to be put away.

“No buts about it, you go. I brought you all out here to have a good time, so git!”

With her father using his “stern” voice, there was no room left for her to argue. Alexia finished her last bite and tossed the paper plate in the trash, along with three others she managed to grab before he scowled at her.

“I’m gittin’ I’m gittin!” she yelped as she ran to join the others.

Morgan watched as Asher made a wisecrack, no doubt about him, and Alexia laughed, and then fell in stride beside him as they walked.

“Ohhh look,” Rory said softly, leaning down to point at a green-headed duck near the reeds, sitting all alone. 

“Let’s go feed him please, please.”

“Sure, kiddo,” Asher said, walking slowly in that direction. The duck quacked when they approached, then stood and eagerly went after the bread pieces Rory dropped for it.

Conner walked a few feet away from them, taking pictures of them as they fed the ducks. Alexia had bread and tore it into small pieces, scattering it about and laughing as the ducks and geese ran over to get them.

“Not the geese,” Asher groaned.

“It wouldn’t be fair if we didn’t feed them too,” Rory pointed out logically, and Asher grinned, because he couldn’t argue with the boy’s logic, especially when he was right. So, with a long suffering sigh Asher held still, even with the geese crowding close to his boots, and patiently waited for Rory to finish feeding them.

By the time they’d run out of bread, their food had settled and Morgan had finished cleaning up things around the table, so they all gathered in the field for a little football. Asher was bound and determined to teach Rory to throw a proper spiral, while Conner half-played in between running for his camera to get shots of them playing in the setting sun.

They played until Rory was tired, then Asher tossed some wood in the fire pit and got a fire going while Morgan walked back to the car, pulling a guitar from the trunk.

“Aw come on, Morgan,” Asher grumbled.

“You come on, and stop being stubborn and play for us will ya,” Morgan urged, holding the guitar out to him.

“Come on, Uncle Asher,” Rory pleaded, giving him the puppy dog look again.

Asher shook his head and took the guitar, scowling a little even as he sat down and checked to be sure it was in tune. Conner sat across from him, taking pictures in the firelight, a fact that made Asher just a little ill at ease. He hoped there weren’t too many picture of him and all his scars, or at the very least, that shadows from the flames would hide them.

Alexia sat to his left, with Rory leaning against her, her arms around him as Morgan settled into his seat. Asher played “Home on the Range” just because he knew Morgan hated it, singing in a high, off-key falsetto and making everyone laugh. When he was done he settled in and got serious, playing through some old Southern Rock songs before slowing things down with old peace songs like the ones his mother used to sing.

Rory fell asleep after a while, drifting off to the music. Conner took a few more pictures then finally put the camera away for good, content to just sit and listen to the rise and fall of Asher’s voice as he sang.

“We should pack up,” Asher whispered when he was done singing a stunning rendition of ‘Simple Man.’ 
“It’s getting late and I think someone’s pretty much gonna have to be carried from here on out.”

“I’ll get him,” Morgan offered, “if you boys want to go ahead and put the fire out and load up the car.”

“Sure thing,” Conner said, standing up to help.

Asher put the guitar back in its case and returned it to the trunk, then joined Conner and Alexia in gathering things together. When they were sure they had everything, Asher and Conner went back to the fire pit to put it out.

Flickering flames illuminated their faces as they stood together for a moment, watching the fire burn low.

“Today was awesome,” Conner said softly. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“I’m glad you wanted to,” Asher admitted.

Conner cocked his head to the side, studying him. “Why wouldn’t I have?”

Asher just shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’m still getting use to you being around.”

“Hey,” Conner said softly, lightly touching Asher’s arm. “I’ll be around for as long as you want me  around and I really hope you’ll keep wanting me around.”

Asher grinned at that and turned towards Conner, watching the way the fire played across his face. So gorgeous. Asher’s hand was moving before he realized it, lifting to lightly rest against the side of Conner’s face, stroking his fingers over Conner’s cheek.

Those rough, work-worn hands caressing him so gently made Conner moan and he let his eyes fall closed, even as he tilted his head and nuzzled his face against Asher’s palm. Asher blinked, startled by the moan and the movement and dropped his hand, shocked at himself for touching his friend without his permission. He jerked his hand away, an apology already spilling from his lips as he did.

Conner didn’t let him finish it, though; whatever he wanted to say was lost when Conner kissed him.

Morgan and Alexia watched from the car, both smiling as they saw the two lose themselves in each other’s arms.

“About damned time too,” Morgan grumbled. 

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Book Review: The Billabong by Jack Byrne


Today's blog featured a book review on an interesting little story by Jack Byrne called The Billabong. This story pulled me in and kept me there, with the only thing really breaking my focus was that the cover image didn’t seem to match the ages of the characters as they were portrayed in the writing. I loved that they were older characters, but they looked so young on the cover for the life experiences they’d had.

I loved the way the relationship slowly formed, but wow, what a twist when Mark’s secrets got revealed. That was when the excitement really kicked in. I wasn’t sure what Jim was going to do until he sprang into action and what action he took, I doubt readers will see it coming, just as I never imagined what was going to take place.

I did find myself wishing that this was fleshed out more, I would have loved to have seen more of the details of them together in the outback, coming to know and fall for one another, but for the most part, it really seemed glossed over between major events.

It was sad to hear Mark’s story of what had sent him on the run in the first place. It was clear, from the beginning that he was a good man, so even once he was imprisoned and the charges were relayed to Jim it was easy to believe that there was more to the story than the reader was being told. I really found myself hoping that they would be able to stay ahead of the law and have a happy life together, especially with how much Jim gave up for Mark. 

Check out the novel summary and other Goodreads reviews here

A Solid Three Dancing Hamsters from me. 

Friday, August 7, 2015

Sneak Peak From Upcoming Romance Release, Broken Prince, Mismatched Eyes

While I don't have a release day for this one yet, we just finished the editing phase. so excited to have another book coming soon from Wayward Ink. This one, Broken Prince, Mismatched Eyes is a romance based off of an arranged marriage. Hope you like the teaser.

Rhys watched as Caden selected clothes from one of the trunks, lit the second lamp, and then stepped behind the curtain in the corner of the cabin to clean up and change. While he changed, Rhys rubbed the lingering soreness from his leg and walked around the cabin, grateful that the sharp, searing pain from the day before had faded into something manageable.
It shocked him that Caden had yet to ask about his limp or even make a comment regarding it. Rhys was sure it would happen sooner rather than later. He vowed not to be caught off guard by it and to swiftly put Caden in his place when it came, though a part of him really wished that Caden would just get it over with. It was too easy to be lulled into a false sense of contentment by Caden’s obedience and fear; in fact, it angered Rhys a little that Caden’s obedience seemed to come without resistance to any of Rhys’ commands. He’d expected more of a fight from Caden to establish who would be the dominant one in their relationship; that Caden seemed to have no wish to fight just made Rhys want to push to see what he could do to change that.
Rhys thought back to the comment he’d made about Caden’s father the night before and Caden’s silent acceptance of it and soft explanation. It was quite clear that insulting his family would not provoke Caden, nor did it seem like Rhys’ own temper could get a rise out of him. So then, what would? Was there anything that Caden cared about enough to fight with him over?
Rhys glanced at the screen blocking his view of the corner where Caden was changing, and his hands itched to pull it down. He wanted to see everything his husband had to offer. He wanted to grab him and haul him close, to feel all that muscle against him and see if that wouldn’t get Caden to struggle, if only just a little. Did he have it in him to be a wild and passionate lover, or would he lie in the bed and passively allow Rhys to do whatever he pleased to him?
Though the thought of that was enough to bring several ideas to Rhys’ mind that were not really what he wanted at all. He wanted someone with spirit, someone he could bend but not break. Rhys thought about the way Caden had remained kneeling in the center of the bed, head down, when Rhys had made the comment about throwing him overboard. It seemed to Rhys that Caden was already broken. It was a shame, but then, when had he ever gotten what he’d truly wanted?
Rhys let out a frustrated sigh and shoved his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back. He was hungry, and Caden seemed to be taking forever just to get ready, and damn it all....
Just when Rhys had been about to bellow out an order for Caden to hurry the hell up, Caden stepped out with his long hair tied back, emphasizing his mismatched eyes even more than normal. He wore dark brown pants and a loose-fitting tan shirt, along with a pair of well-worn brown boots, all of which nicely set off his deeply tanned skin. Rhys noted the way Caden had rolled up the sleeves of the shirt so that the ends were stretched tight across his biceps, making him look more like a sailor or a blacksmith than a lord’s son. It made Rhys suddenly remember the question he’d been waking Caden to ask.
“Your hands, how did you get all of those scars?” Rhys asked him, unable to pull his eyes away from his husband. Right now he wasn’t even sure if he cared if Caden lay still beneath him. He just wanted him.
Caden looked down at his hands. “Hunting, trapping, skinning the animals, chopping wood, climbing trees, and messing about in the forge when the old blacksmith had a moment to teach me a thing or two. I never liked to be inside.”
“I guess not,” Rhys agreed as he approached Caden and reached out, grabbing one of his hands. Brutes and Titus both let out low growls that were quickly silenced by Caden with orders for the hounds to sit and stay while Rhys inspected his hand closer.
Caden just looked even more dejected. “I’m sorry if the scars offend you.”
“That’s it!” Rhys exploded, having had just about enough. He pushed Caden against the wall of the cabin and pinned him there so he could glare down into his eyes. Caden glared right back, a flash of anger in his eyes so brilliant that Rhys braced himself for a fight, but none came. The spark faded, leaving Caden’s eyes blank and calm again.
Rhys snarled at that, angered even more. “If you make one more comment about your looks, actions, or appearance offending me in any way I am going to show you what happens when I truly am offended. Do you think I would want some soft, pathetic little lordling with ladies hands and a whining, simpering disposition?”
“I... I don’t know,” Caden admitted.
“Well then let me clear it up for you,” Rhys growled, having seen the spark that had flared up in Caden’s eyes and wanting it back. “I do not!”
When Caden began to lower his head, Rhys shook him, hard, and Caden’s head jerked back up, eyes flashing with anger again. Rhys saw his hands clench into fists and gripped him tighter.
“You want to hit me, don’t you?”
Caden’s jaw clenched, and Rhys could hear his teeth grate together. “Go ahead, admit it. You’re angry right now. You don’t like this, do you?”
Caden made a low, rumbling sound, but didn’t say a word.
“Words,” Rhys reminded, leaning in closer.
“No,” Caden hissed, tensing even as Rhys gripped his arms tighter.
Before Caden could blink, Rhys closed the last of the distance between them and took possession of Caden’s lips with a rough, bruising kiss. Rhys pulled back, heart pounding, upset and frustrated that Caden hadn’t responded.
“Goddammit, don’t tell me you didn’t feel anything from that kiss!” Rhys demanded, but before he could say anything more, Caden gripped Rhys’ shirt and reversed their positions, slamming Rhys against the cabin wall and kissing him with enthusiasm, even if the kiss lacked skill.
By the time Caden broke the kiss and stepped back, both of them were panting wildly, eyes darkened with lust.
“So you do have fire,” Rhys gasped, watching as several emotions flickered in rapid succession across Caden’s face.
“I promised my father I would not do anything to dishonor him or the vows I would be making to you. One of those vows was to obey. Don’t mistake obedience for cowardice, Rhys. I am not a coward, but I prefer not to fight if I don’t have to. You’re in charge, you have made that clear. I will do my best to follow the rules you’ve given me,” Caden breathlessly declared before releasing Rhys and backing away. Without another word, he turned, the hounds on his heels as he headed for the door to the cabin.
Rhys’ jaw dropped, and it took him a moment to fully comprehend Caden’s words. Surprised and excited, he was curious to see what other reactions he could provoke from Caden. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Caden paused and turned to look at Rhys. His husband looked disheveled and more than a little bit unsettled. “To the galley to eat. That is what you woke me for, isn’t it?” 

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Book Review of M/M Supernatural novel Bewitched Souls (The Coven #1) by Drako

Bewitched Souls (The Coven, #1)

Bewitched Souls started off interestingly enough, dropping the reader into a night filled with witches and demons. While it was good to see a story kick off with action, it did feel a little bit more like I was being told a story rather than watching it unfold. It was a little jarring at first, though the writer has a smoothly flowing style that does make reading easy.

I had a hard time getting a sense of who each of the characters was as an individual, aside from their dialogue, they all seemed to be interchangeable, especially Talis, Cian and Teryn. They all seemed to move the same, think the same, act the same, and respond the same to situations, which is a shame, because it would have added a greater dynamic to the story to see them all behaving differently.

I found the whole thing with Dion and Kolby to be very cliché and very unbelievable. There is obsession, but never at any point does the reader learn just what it is about Dion that make her so hell bent on having him and no other. I also found it very difficult to believe just how quickly Talis forgave Dion and jumped into a relationship with him after the way their friendship fell apart. The lack of a slow build made me wonder about the ages of the characters, because that struck me as very teenage like behavior to me and yet, Talis is supposed to be the head of a coven, which is a very, very serious responsibility.

I must say that the author seemed to have a decent overview of the aspects of witchcraft, which shows that some good research was done to make the moments in the book where characters used rituals and spells. There was a ton of prep in dressing for a scene that went by fairly quickly and never showed any need for all of that attention to detail to have been made.

Some of the Point of View changes were a little jarring and I had to go back and see exactly who was saying what as we would be in Talis’ head on line and the very next line be in Dion’s. One question I kept asking myself was that if most of the people there were witches, then why didn’t they go to the other witches for help and why, then, was their coven so small if there were so many other witches around, it simply kept pulling me out of the story each time someone was unsure of whether they were going to be able to handle a problem or not, and then did not go to someone else around them for aid.

Fight, exhaustion, return to bedroom, talk, sex, was a pattern that started to get a bit repetitive, the battle scenes started to blend together, making them lose their weight and importance. About midway through the book the conversations really got repetitive, especially between Dion and Talis in regards to Dion’s not being able to defend himself against demons.

At one point it is implied that several months had passed since they’d gotten together but in reading to that point, there was never any indication before that of months having passed by, it reads like days to me.

There was a great deal to like about this book, unfortunately, there was also a lot of things that got in the way of it coming through clearly. Two dancing hamsters is the highest score I can give this book, since it would be really, really rude to cut a hamster in half. 

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

A Little Graphics Fun

In my spare time I love to play with graphics. I went to school for media arts and animation and do a lot of digital art pieces for craft shows and gallery displays in my area. Today I cam across a tutorial to make twisted, colorful, almost kolidescope like backgrounds and couldn't resist making up a few as well as sharing the process here, in case there were other graphic's minded folks who wanted to play around with it.

Here is the tutorial/instructions

This is the original image used

Step 1

Step 2

Step 3

 Step 4

Step 4 Repeated

 Outcome of Steps 5, 6, 7 and 8

Playing with the results

 Playing with the results 2

Playing with the results 3

Playing with the results final

I hope everyone enjoys this tutorial as much as I did, I'll be spending the next few hours making these as backgrounds for future projects.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Book Review for Upcoming Release Rescuing Ryker by Jason Banks

Good afternoon everyone. What I have for you today is a pre-release book review and interview of Rescuing Ryker's author Jason Banks. Rescuing Ryker is available for pre-order here with a release date of Aug 25th. This 25 page short story is designed to introduce the readers to Ryker and Flynn's world. 


From an early age, Ryker Reynolds yearned to become a leading emergency responder in his hometown of Windsor, Colorado. At the behest of his legalistic father, Ryker graduated high school and entered a training program in Fort Collins to become an EMT instead of accepting the parental funded tuition into Yale Law School. Finally, Ryker achieved his dream of saving lives. 

After accepting his first position for a squad in Colorado Springs, Ryker found peace and comfort transitioning into his new fast-paced lifestyle. This was all he’d ever dreamed of and he felt like an important member of society, recovering patients from the brink of death. Weeks later, Ryker turned down an invitation to his family’s annual cruise to be on call during what turned into the busiest weekend of his life. But when a torrential storm of rain, hail and tornadoes attacks the Front Range, Ryker’s faith is all he has within grasp when his ambulance overturns due to mother nature’s fury. But his guardian angel must have been working overtime when an unknown driver approaches Ryker’s capsized rig and identifies himself as a trauma physician for the nearby hospital. Dr. Flynn Johnson calls for extra backup to save Ryker and his work mates. 

Upon recovery, Ryker Reynolds is more than appreciative of Dr. Johnson’s aid as sparks fly during the following weeks of physical therapy. But that’s not all what the doctor ordered for Ryker to make a complete turnaround.

Not only was I fortunate enough to be granted an advanced reader copy of Rescuing Ryker, but its author, Jason Banks, took the time out to answer a few questions for me on his writing process and how he came to create his novel. I hope you enjoy the interview as much as I did. 

1.       Have you always wanted to be a writer, or did you come into it through a love of reading.
It's always been an interest of mine. When I was ten, I begged my mum to let me drain my entire savings account to buy an electric typewriter that we'd seen at a yard sale. From the point forward, I'd always been making fun stories and writing poetry. I was introduced to the Male/Male Romance genre by accident in 2010 when a fellow Facebook mate had recommended I read a TA Chase novel. From then on, I've been hooked on gay romance. 

2.       What is the most interesting place you’ve come across in your travels?
Honestly? This may come off as a bit weird-- Georgia. The humidity is atrocious. Never before had I felt the need to take a shower after sitting on the patio for twenty minutes, after taking a bloody shower already!

3.       Do you have any particular ritual you follow before sitting down to write? Is there something that you absolutely have to have: coffee, certain type of music, a favorite snack?Pandora Radio is always at my fingertips when sitting down to write and usually a glass of tea. I do love my iced tea. 

4.       What inspired you to write Rescuing Ryker?
Rescuing Ryker is based off my own occupational interests. By the end of this year, I'll be starting my EMT training certification. So that's when I developed the character of Ryker Reynolds after seeing the chap inside my imagination. 

5.       Is there any one character that speaks to you more than the others?
Both Ryker and Flynn speak to me quite frequently-- especially now that I'm enveloped in their full length novel. 

6.       What drew you to write about doctors and EMTs?
My recent professional career pathway and goals, mostly. 

7.       Are you planning to make the hospital a focal point of books to come?
It definitely does in Finding Flynn. But that's all I'm gonna say! 

8.       Who are some of your favorite writers?
Obviously, TA Chase, Josh Lanyon, GA Hauser, Patricia Logan, Ashley John, Kade Boehme. Outside of my genre, I fancy a good Dean Koontz, Stephen King book any day. Other suspense/thriller authors I love are Jason Starr, Douglas Corleone, Markus Sakey and too many more to list.

9.       Do you outline, or do you write by the seat of your pants.
Both. I always have an idea of where I want to go, but I don't always know exactly how I'm going to get there in such an orderly fashion.

10.   Has writing helped you discover anything about yourself?Yes and No. It has helped me realize that I enjoy writing Male/Male Romance over the other genre I've published in via a different pen name. 

11.   What is the most bizarre place you’ve ever written at?
My workplace break room! Talk about gawkers. 

12.   Do you have any other stories planned out after your upcoming full length novel?
Yes. After Finding Flynn, much spicier content is in the works for my next two (or should I say-- "three" *et ehmmm*) characters. 

Shaking his head out of a somnolent haze, Flynn gulped the last bit of Folgers from the cup and tossed it into the waste bin five paces away as if Kobe Bryant scoring a tie-breaking five point shot. “Well, I’m being beckoned back to the pit,” he hissed, glancing back at his boss now with both eyes shut and the black stethoscope nearly descending to the carpet.
Though his sixteen hour shift was almost over, Flynn could notice a decline in energy quick after his three second power nap. All he wanted from the rest of his day was for it to go by quickly in order to reunite with his silken pillows. He noticed the small gang of paramedics rush inside the glass doors.
“What do we have fellas?” Flynn questioned, though from the familiar sights, he’d know the proper course of treatment immediately.
He listened attentively to Joshua’s nattering about blood pressure and vitals while arched over the gurney, listening to the fella’s heart and lungs for himself. When Flynn regained his posture, he provided a decent once-over to the emergency technician and conjured a split second mental note of the well-built man’s physique donning a dark navy blue shirt with its insignia reading: Squad 10.
Flynn called out the orders to the medics, “Trauma bed three,” and followed the men into the bay, glancing at the solid backside of Squad Ten Boy one more quick time while pulling the privacy curtain shut.
“Start one liter IV saline,” Flynn motioned to Nicki, one of the nurses. “Push 0.4 mg naloxone and 1.0 mg ondansetron,” he ordered, “and Nicki, monitor respiratory distress in three minutes, if no improvement push another 0.4 mg naloxone until stable. Not to exceed 10 mg.”
As the young doctor slid his patient’s chart between his arm, he stepped out from the privacy curtain to record his notes. When Flynn finished scrawling his orders on the paperwork, he glanced up to see if Squad Ten Boy was anywhere in sight. He sauntered over to the quad of television screens displaying pertinent info about the patients currently admitted into the emergency room and touched his chin with his forefinger in deep thought. Other than this OD, looks like I’ll be skedaddling soon. Sleep. Need sleep!
Flynn slid his iPhone out from his left lab coat pocket, reading the incoming message from one of the usual fuck buddies on a gay social media app suitably known as the underbelly of the local gay community.
Let’s meet this morning. I’m needing a prescription, Doctor and that is your bare hands around my hard cock. I’m so horny for your healing touch.
This was exactly what Flynn wanted to soon avoid—hookups. He returned the phone to his pocket and checked in on a different patient chart as his relieving trauma physician rounded the corner with a giant smile. Lucky bastard.

Rescuing Ryker Book Review

This was an interesting introduction to the characters of Flynn and Ryker and the lives they lead as an emergency room doctor and an EMT. The reader certainly gets a feel for the stress and excitement of their jobs, as well as the dangers. There is enough here to make them seem cute together while still making it clear that this is a beginning for them as they come to know each other.

I walked away from this curious to see their relationship grow and develop. With such a small tease into each of their lives, I felt like I was only beginning to get to know them. Ryker’s parents have some potential to be a foil to their happiness. I hope to see more of them, it seems like there is some real tension there which could be further explored. 

There were a few moments when the dialogue didn’t read naturally and pulled me out of the book, and there were others when the pacing just seemed a bit too fast for an introduction. I think focusing on one or two scenes/interactions between them would have really worked well in this instance. Near the end, I felt as if too much was trying to happen that maybe could have been saved for the upcoming full length novel. All in all, however, Rescuing Ryker served its purpose to introduce the reader to two very interesting characters who seem to really dig one another. I look forward to seeing where their relationship evolves from here. 


Jason Banks is an emerging Gay Romance Author, born in the UK and shipped off in the sort of fashion as a common American military brat as an infant. With a German-American Father and a British Mother, Jason has been known to refer to himself as the human equivalent of a canine mutt. Much thanks to his upbringing within the deep cornfield suburbs of Indianapolis, Jason’s been exposed to a plethora of various experiences and friends spanning from the Midwest to the East coast. He enjoys reading many other Authors in the same genre of M/M Romance (including most sub-genres) but also fancies outside the sultry box a time or two with a Mystery/Thriller or Suspense novel. Currently, Jason can be found roaming all over Colorado and Utah. His bearish features match that of his teddy bear personality and if you haven’t spotted him with a fork in his mouth, you’ve probably met the wrong bloke. If you’re into a good steamy Gay Romance, Jason urges you to consider his debut characters [Ryker Reynolds and Flynn Johnson] in the short Prequel-esque story, Rescuing Ryker. Soon to follow later in 2015 will be the characters’ full length novel, Finding Flynn. He’s always up for meeting a new friend, so find him on Facebook