Matesummer Monday: Truth and Lies

 

Soon I'll be unveiling the cover of book 3 in the Comet Lake series: Death Growl, which will be coming to you in late July/early August. In the meantime, I've been working on book 6, and thought I'd share a little snippet from it this morning. 

“Why does he hate you?”

The voice made Baz flinch and clench his fists, even as his cheeks heated up. The thought of someone witnessing what had just taken place was almost as humiliating as having his mate walk away and leave him unfulfilled. That it was Kale standing there made it so much worse.

“I betrayed him.”

“Why?”

Baz hoped Kale would stay where he was, leaning up against a tree at the edge of the clearing, but the universe had never cared what he wanted, thus, Kale shoved away from the tree and headed his way.

“Was better than the alternative,” Baz replied, turning away so he wouldn’t have to see his face up close again. Even in the pond, tied, bloody, and unconscious in the moonlight, he was beautiful. Baz didn’t want to see how much more so he was now that he was healthy. He’d damned himself the moment he’d promised Charlie he would bring their mate to him if he was ever lucky enough to find them. In honoring that, he’d hoped to earn some small measure of forgiveness. Another failure in a long string of them involving his mate.

“What could ever be worse than betraying a mate?” Kale asked.

Sounded like he was right beside him now. His voice smooth, melodic, Baz would have loved to sit and listen to him talk for hours, but he couldn’t stay close to the mate he couldn’t have. He couldn’t let a bond form between them. Not when it would put him at odds with Charlie and the vow he’d made.

“Prey you’ll never find out.”

Baz started walking then, head down, hands shoved in the pocket of his jacket, intent on returning to the shop and the multitude of projects that awaited him. He’d always loved working with wood, shaping it into something useful or even beautifully ornamental. Feeling it beneath his fingertips had a way of soothing his mind, the sandpaper rubbing over the grains like a harmony he could get lost in for days. Charlie had to know how badly it would suck for him when Charlie returned to the woodworking shop and Baz was forced to leave.

If only they could find a way to work together there if nowhere else. 

You can find the first two books of the Comet Lake Chronicles Here.

Rainbow Snippet 6/25/22: A first look at Saint's Sinner

 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!). 

Claiming Cody

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.  

This week's Rainbow Snippet comes from Saint's Sinner, my current WIP and the book that will follow Claiming Cody in the Rollin' Jokers series. 

“You can’t promise that! You can’t promise he’ll be okay either!”

“No, but what I can promise is that whoever done this will be made to pay.”

“And that’s supposed to be comforting!”

“Did I say…”

Snarling, Saint cut Mark off by whipping a heavy glass ashtray at his head. Fucker didn’t even have the good graces to try and get out of the way. Would have been nice if he’d pretended it had come close enough to hit him, but Saint’s aim had always been shit when it came to throwing. Mark probably figured moving would be what got him hit. That or he just didn’t give a damn. He hadn’t flinched when glass and plaster exploded outward from the dent it put in the wall. Hadn’t even twitched when shards slip the flesh of his cheek and sent blood spilling down it.

“If this was Teddy, or god forbid, one of my nephews, you’d have destroyed half the town by now!”

“And you’d have been right there beside me.”

“Then why the fuck aren’t we out their doing it now?”

The casual way Mark reached up and brushed a hunk of glass glittered hair from his face took Saint to a whole other level of pissed off. “Because we’re older and supposed to be wiser at this point in our lives, and we both know the cops are itching to swarm this place and lock us under the jail.”

Manic Monday Metal Mania: A look at my upcoming Rocktoberfest novel Bleeding Dawn

 

Available for Pre-Order

Tripp knew he should have been prepared for the sight of Dez opening Zakk’s front door, but the moment it happened was so rattling that it sent all his carefully composed words spinning right out of his head. While he was still trying to regain his composure, Dez had the nerve to press a finger to his lips, and rather than move the fuck out of Tripp’s way, stepped out in the hallway with him, looking like he’d just crash-landed off the balcony of a Mardi Gras bash. 

There was a streak of…something, on the side of his neck, his jeans were being held up by his free hand, unzipped and unbuttoned, and his hair looked like he’d had an unfortunate battle with a light socket and lost.

“Must have been some party,” Tripp growled. “I guess that’s why Zakk hasn’t been answering his phone all god damned night.

“Naa,” Dez drawled, the fucker having the nerve to smirk at him. “He didn’t answer ‘cause you said shit you shouldn’t have, and he shoved the phone under a pillow and abandoned it there to die.”

“Look, not that I need to explain it to you, but I was pissed and frustrated beyond belief, and I took it out on him when he did nothing to deserve it.”

“You’re damn right he didn’t,” Dez shot back. “If you’re on a personal mission to alienate everyone in your life, I’d say you’re off to a good start. Dick. That’s from Winter, incidentally.”

“You’ve talked to him?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah, and he’s fine, in case you give a damn.”

“Who the fuck do you think….” Tripp growled.

“Someone who actually does give a damn!” Dez snarled back. “Maybe because I know what it’s like to have someone destroy my love for music, and let me tell you something, it’s a hard fucking thing to come back from. I’m still trying to fit the pieces back together. Some days I look at my guitar, and all I want is to pitch it out a seven-story window and never play another note!”

Okay, now that…he’d heard Dez play, many times over the years. The guy was a beast, a god damned legend in the making. He and Winter had gone head-to-head for best guitarist three times in their careers and as far as Tripp was concerned, it would have been more if Dez had ever stuck with a band for more than a year. To hear him say that about playing and have him ascribe it to his brother….

His first thought was that he needed to track Winter down and fix it, his second, was to wonder who the fuck Dez thought he was, to be lecturing him on shit after what Tripp had read while he’d been stuck at the Bismarck Airport.

“Maybe you should work your own shit out, before you stick your nose in someone else’s,” Tripp snapped as he jerked his phone out of his pocket and flipped through it, finding the article he was after and turning it so Dez could see.

Tripp knew what the headline said, the speculation about the woman draped all over Riley in the photos that accompanied it, including one where she was sitting in his lap, his arms around her as she looked to be kissing his neck.

Tripp waited for Dez to lose his shit with a sick sense of anticipation he wasn’t exactly proud of. He expected embarrassment, sputtered attempts at an explanation, not….snickering?

What the actual fuck?

When those snickers gave way to laughter and Dez using the wall to hold himself up, Tripp was certain he’d just fallen headlong into the Twilight Zone.

“What the fuck is so god damned funny this early in the day?” Riley grumbled as he stuck his head out in the hallway, took one look at Tripp and rolled his eyes. “Oh, you.”

Tapping Dez on the shoulder only got him to turn his laughter and the phone Riley’s way.

“What are you trying to do, laugh him off the doorstep?” Riley asked, taking the phone when Dez nearly dropped it and his pants.

“He thinks….you two…are seein’…each….other…” Dez choked out in between wheezes.

Riley’s giggles when he saw the photos were as unexpected as Dez’s reaction, only now he was hollering over his shoulder to Zakk, who sounded sleepy, drunk and grumpy as he came shambling to the doorway, looking every bit as rumpled as Dez and Riley did.

“Why ya gotta be so fuckin’ loud, bru?”

And there was the pretty little bun on the shitburger sandwich his day had turned into. Drunken fuck’ Zakk, who crashed into Riley and the door before spotting Tripp standing there and giving him a little wave.

“Can I talk to you?” Tripp pleaded, desperately hoping there was some shred of comprehension left in Zakk’s booze-soaked brain, or he’d have come all this way for nothing.

“You gotta see this!” Riley declared at the same time, thrusting the phone in front of Zakk’s face and blocking his view of the desperate, pleading look Tripp was shooting him. “He thinks I’m cheating on Dez…. with your sister!”