Tag Archives: Gay

Cover Reveal: Just a Week by Jena Wade

 

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Release: July 14th, 2016

Publisher: Loose Id

Blurb:

Just a week is not enough time to fall in love, but Fate doesn’t care. Seth’s carefully crafted plan for how his life will go doesn’t include falling in love with a guy in his horrible hometown. He wants to start a new life anywhere but at home. Until Maddox storms in with his multi-colored hair and carefree attitude.

Long distance relationships don’t work and Seth isn’t into gambling with his future. But the more time he spends with Maddox, the more he’s willing to throw caution to the wind. Now his plan for the rest of his life has been turned upside down and seems to include things Seth never thought possible, including a lifetime of happiness in his hometown.

 

Excerpt:

I headed out the door and grabbed the book I started a few days ago out of my car. In high school I would always go to the park and read when it was nice out. My parents were happy knowing I got fresh air, and I was happy just to get lost in the world of whatever book had captured my attention.

I found my usual bench unoccupied. Thank goodness. It sat underneath a giant oak tree that provided a good amount of shade. About a hundred feet away sat a set of playground equipment for kids. Since it was Sunday evening, there weren’t many kids around.

The screech and clicks of skateboards on metal had me looking around like I’d just entered a parallel universe. What the hell?

Where there used to be old basketball hoops with raggedy nets, there now stood a half-pipe and other random obstacles used for skateboarding tricks. A half dozen teenagers and young adults whizzed around each other. Some on boards, others on rollerblades. All of them moving at high speed.

There was a lot of laughing, and every so often someone shouted, “Check this out,” before trying some stunt on the rail, usually resulting in a fall or stumble.

Squealing kids on a swing set I could drown out. But this, I wasn’t so sure about. It was new. And distracting.

One young man in particular stood out. Mostly because he had bright orange hair that spiked in every direction, possibly looking like it could impale a person if they were to touch it. Like a cactus. He also looked a bit older than the teenagers that surrounded him, which might explain why they all seemed to look up to him like he was a god.

He wore a black zip-up sweatshirt, though it was warm enough to go without, and jeans that were skintight.

Once I started watching him, I noticed that the other skaters watched him too. He had talent. He kept his balance well, and his moves seemed effortless. While the other skaters floundered and wobbled as they zoomed around, he kept calm and collected.

I didn’t understand the appeal of skateboarding, especially on a half-pipe. What was the purpose of putting yourself in harm’s way like that? Might as well throw myself down a flight of stairs if I wanted to break a bone.

Orange-haired Guy stood on the deck of the half-pipe. He stared down the slope below, his face unreadable. He didn’t call the others to gather around and watch, though I had a feeling they would anyway.

He took a deep breath and hopped on his board.

I held my breath, like I was the one up there. I watched in wonder as he gained momentum, back and forth, up and down the half-pipe. Once he had enough speed he began his flips. It looked amazing to me. Him flipping in the air, his feet staying on the board as he spun, then landing perfectly to do it all over again. I guess I had never bothered to watch any skateboarding before. Maybe I would have if they had looked like this skateboarder.

My nose pressed against the chain-link fence that surrounded the skate park before I even realized I had walked closer. At least I started breathing again.

He stopped just as quickly as he started. Landing back on the deck of the half-pipe, like he hadn’t just done something incredible. And maybe it wasn’t to him; maybe that was just another day in the life. To me it was pretty cool.

The other skaters around cheered and gave him high fives as he made his way through the park. Just like that, he left. He hit the sidewalk and hopped back on to his board, flying down the street like it was made for him.

I snapped out of it. What the hell just happened? I don’t gawk. I never gawk.

I rushed back to my regular bench, picked up my book, and headed home, no longer in the mood to read. At least not outside. At home inside my room there wouldn’t be any distractions. Visions of the orange-haired guy floated through my head, and I couldn’t shake them. I blamed the jet lag.

Never mind the fact that I didn’t fly home. Nor did I go through any time zones. Traveling had tired me out, and I wasn’t thinking straight.

Just a week. Then I would be back where I belonged and where things were normal. Routine. The way I liked it.

 

Bio:

Jena Wade began writing in January of 2013 as a New Year’s resolution and so far she has stuck to it.

Jena lives in Michigan with her husband, two dogs, and one brand new baby boy. By day she works as a web developer and at night she writes. She was born and raised on a farm and spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden or tending to her landscaping.

Links:

The Jena Wade: www.thejenawade.com

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/authors/erotic-romance-authors-g-k.html?cat=699

Twitter: thejenawade.twitter.com

 


Some Pictures for Fun #wtf #horsingaround

Dollar Photo Club shuts down in 2 days.

Me tarzan... you tarzan... (1)

I had around 70 prepaid photo credits, so I “bought” a bunch of photos.

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Is that a pleather tie, Boston Strangler Bunny?

Some pics/picks were better than others.

horse mask young hipster gay man

Neigh! Don’t judge me.

-Kimber


Villains with Vaginas

I was on social media the other day (shocking, I know) and stumbled over a thread that piqued my interest. Someone had read a book in which women seemed to be vilified to the point of misogyny. The disappointed reader said it was a theme she’d been running into frequently and numerous other readers chimed in that they had the same issue with MM books. I haven’t read the book in question, so I can’t speak to its content, but women being portrayed negatively in gay romance is hardly a new phenomenon. Readers have been complaining about it for years.

When I first began writing MM, rumblings about women being cast as conniving harpies abounded on review sites–every female in nearly every book was pure evil. Or there were no females in books, in other cases.

Female sorcerer with two troll beasts

Long ago, I vowed to be super conscientious about how my female characters came across. And then I largely washed my hands of the worry. Seriously, I’m the girl who likes to joke that women can’t do X because their vaginas are so cumbersome they get in the way. I used to go to parties in HS to challenge dudes to mercy competitions just to prove what a bad ass I was. Well, and to drink (shot for shot with the guys, of course). Yeah, also to get laid because treating men the way I perceived they’d treated women since the dawn of time–like a piece of meat to be used–was my shtick, I’m rather ashamed to say (they rarely minded, for the record, so I guess I won’t feel too guilty).

My point is, I’m not the girl who thinks women are in any way inferior to men (really–why would any woman think that?). I mean, we squeeze squalling 8 lb beings from our bodies and then we’re like, give me some fucking pizza and let me walk around or I’ll drown you in breast milk. If anything, I’ve got a chip on my shoulder when it comes to how undervalued women are.

Yet, whenever I see these posts, I get paranoid.

I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. I am woman, with better plumbing, carpentry, and electrical skills than most men I know. Hear me roar. I won’t even mention my chest hair (I blame gin).

Oh, but people were complaining about the evil fictional ex-wife! The evil mother-in-law!

Well, I’ve written a character mid-divorce in a nasty custody battle. Yes, his wife came off witchy, but she’d given her best years to a guy and wanted to keep her kid. No, she wasn’t nice to her soon-to-be ex-husband, but I’ve seen more ugly divorces than I can count, and I don’t think a bit of reality is untoward. Guaranteed, if I’d been writing from the ex-wife’s POV, Gio would have looked like a total cobnobbler.

Not that anyone has accused me of defaming women. But the conversation makes me rethink every female character I’ve ever written. Was she too bitter? Did I make all women look bad by writing one woman going through a shitastic stage in her life? Should I never write female characters I wouldn’t want to be friends with IRL? Should I never write a female as an antagonist for fear of being labeled a misogynist?

I have more awesome women than bitchy women in my books, when I do the math. Probably equal amounts antagonistic men to antagonistic women. Realistically, someone needs to be the adversary in contemporary romance.

And then I just wrote a rather unlikable mother-in-law(ish)…

Maybe exes and MILs are overdone at this point. Maybe that’s the problem, in which case, contemporary MM may be overdone too because, well, as I know I’ve complained before, we can’t just pull a (sexless) monster out of our asses to make a villain.

Now, is Greg’s mom in my latest book (Balancing Act~~Coming soon to a website near you! Shameless plug!) absolute evil? No. Not even remotely. Matter of fact, she’s based on a woman I happen to adore. Is she a horse-pill to swallow? Oh, you bet your ass. On the flip side, Kyrie’s mom is a love, she just doesn’t get major screen time in this book. Same for his cool friend, Liv.

Nice can be boring, TBH. Suspense doesn’t come from that totally humorous Comic-Con scene I keep contemplating. A book needs to move forward and then get kicked in the teeth to make it step back. It needs tension. Bad guys and bad girls.

Sigh. No one was complaining about my characters, so I know I shouldn’t get all twitchy about this. And, yes, if I happen to come across a book that makes me think the author hates women, I’ll get way fucking twitchier, but I hate how this conversation makes me think twice about using female characters at all. Much like complaints about authors writing persons of color incorrectly make me nervous about just writing any damn character that comes to mind.

I don’t want to shy away from female characters–or any characters. Occasionally, I even want to write a hard-nosed bitch. Just as sometimes I want to write a psychotic would-be murderer who happens to have a penis. Neither one makes me a misogynist or a misandrist.

I guess I’ll just keep reminding myself of that and follow wherever my characters lead. No fear. After all, they’re in charge–even if that means they come off a little cunty sometimes.

Hey, don’t we all?

-Kimber

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FREE FREE FREE FREE story. Click to sign up!

 

 

 


What’s Up Wednesday

Hey, all! It occurred to me on Monday that I should come up with a clever little name for one day of the week and blog religiously on that day. What’s Up Wednesday fit the bill, but it was Monday, so damn. Luckily I’m uber-slow and got hung up on a billion other tasks. I blinked and it’s Wednesday!  Like magic, baby!

As an aside, I did a search for What’s Up Wednesday and found this YA author had a weekly hop with the title a few years back. Seems to be defunct, but I’ll give her full credit, especially since she has some swell blog post ideas I’ll probably borrow at some point.

So, what have I been up to? Seems a legit topic to begin. For one, I’ve been working on starting a newsletter and polishing up a short story I plan to dangle in front of your clicking fingers to make you sign up, so get ready for that. It’s the only way to get your hands on my tale, “The Ferryman Cometh,” a dark paranormal erotic MMM, so a tad off my beaten path with that extra M. 😉 I’ll let you know when that’s ready to e-ship, likely by next Wednesday if not sooner.

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I’m self-editing “Balancing Act” right this second. I’m about 2/3 done and then I’ll get it to beta readers. It’s a tough edit because I am striving to keep it just under 40,000 words so it doesn’t jump to the next price point with my publisher. At the moment, I have maybe 300 words of wiggle room, so I’m essentially fucked, but still gonna give it my all. The problem is, when I’m writing dialog fast, I often omit the tags and then come in later and add a bit of meat to make it clear who’s speaking. Hopefully I won’t hit any major rough patches in the home stretch that will require, well, more words. 😛

Okay, that’s it for now. Stay tuned for more newsletter info coming shortly, and more general blogging on Wednesday. Heck, maybe I’ll go do some crunches while I’m on my self-improvement kick.
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-Kimber

 

 

 


Huge #Ebook #Giveaway

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Fellow Liquid Silver author Layna Pimentel cooked up a massive month-long giveaway to celebrate the relaunch of her newsletter. The grand prize is a flash drive with 40 romance e-books of all sub-genres (including my Crossed Hearts). You could be reading for free well into 2016!

Jump on the Rafflecopter link to be in the running:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

By the way, I hope everyone had a phenomenal holiday, and that 2016 will be your best year yet. Sorry I’ve been a shit blogger/writer lately. I make no promises or resolutions, but I’ll see if I can get my crap together once these hobbits climb back on the big yellow angel of mercy. Balancing Act is done and in the editing stage. I’ll put the pedal to the metal in the next few weeks, and try to get that out to my pub and off my plate. ❤

Peace,

Kimber

 

 


Midsummer Madness #Flash #Fiction Blog Hop

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Happy 4th of July! We’ve got a flash fiction blog hop to celebrate, so I’ve tried for a freedom theme today.

It’s a love letter. I even dipped it in tea, not that you can tell with the assholish way I’m posting this. Eh. You may need to zoom in a bit.

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*441 words with a dash of artistic-license-stretchery in time period and tone (although I did read some flowery letters from the 20’s-40’s, so it all depends on the author). Anyway, I didn’t want the guy to end up with a lobotomy (in the 30’s the use of electric shock aversion therapy was just getting warmed up, but they didn’t start scooping people’s brains out until the 40’s). Also, jail was probably tougher to break out of than an old-school psychiatric facility. Maybe. I hope so for the sake of these two.

Here’s the easier-to-read version:

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July 2, 1933

My Dearest R,

I hope this note finds you as well as can be. It’s my greatest fear that our final farewell left you in a state of dejection, as it has me. The slurs aimed at you were beyond any I’d imagined when first we began our friendship. I confess here and now to my fear and weakness. I failed you. I hesitated to stand by your side throughout the accusations and vile threats. I’d hoped my tendencies would remain undiscovered as yours were paraded for the masses to ridicule.

I am the worst Judas.

Oh, R, my darling, I’ve regretted my inaction every moment since. My contrition is small consolation, I’m certain, while you languish in your wretched cell and endure all manner of humiliation. Good God! The experimentation the gossips describe! As if our kind are less than animals; senseless beasts deserving of hellish punishment, and the angelic whole of mankind shouldering the burden to rehabilitate us. I know your family intends to help you, but their aid is misguided.

We are not abominations, and we do not decide whom we love. It is thrust upon us like a dagger, or soaks our skin slowly as a spring mist, but no matter, the choice is never ours. It was not mine, but I’d choose you before a tribunal now, my sweet.

Would that I’d been so brave before.

My only peace is that I remain free to aid in your escape.

Mary, my cousin and constant companion, whom you met briefly, warns that a correspondence is far from prudent at this time, but her sources within the hospital reveal the most alarming conditions therein. I’ll not sit idle another moment while your fate lies in the hands of sadists who would break spirit or spine to keep you from loving another man.

If you still do…

Whatever your present mind, I’ll see you free from torture two days hence. Stay steadfast, my love. Ease their suspicion with lies and speak what is in your heart when you are once more in my arms. If your words crush me, it is all I deserve. If they echo the song my soul sings at the memory of your face, the whisper of your name, I swear my heart will take wing and together we will fly from this place.

You’ll know my sign when the bearer of this note makes contact again.

I will come for you, and together we’ll find freedom, no matter how far we must flee. With your hand in mine, I cannot tire.

And I’ll never again leave your side.

Always,

M

_________

Check out all the other flashers! Here’s the original hop call.


Lead Me to You by Kate Lowell

My online buddy, Kate Lowell, has a new short out today! Here’s her shiny cover and blurb:
Lead Me To You low res
Blurb:
Who takes their claustrophobic boyfriend spelunking for his birthday?Henry can’t say no to Jaime. So, despite his misgivings, he lets Jaime lead him into the bowels of the earth for a surprise. In the intimate dark, he discovers that his love for Jaime is stronger than his fear of imminent death at the hands of Mother Nature.

And Jaime has an ulterior motive that will make all the hyperventilating worth it.

———-
Previous Publications:
     Bite Me Tender: Loose Id   http://www.loose-id.com/bite-me-tender.html
     Christmas Goes Analog: Loose Id   http://www.loose-id.com/christmas-goes-analog.html
     Forgotten Menagerie: Storm Moon Press   http://www.stormmoonpress.com/books/Forgotten-Menagerie.aspx
Bio:
Kate lives on the east coast of Canada, in an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. She has two horses, both of which have medical issues, and three cats, all of which have mental issues. She refuses to get a dog, because who knows what would be wrong with it?

Kate loves to read and write (and it’s a darn good thing, because she wouldn’t be much of an author if she didn’t, would she?) She also likes playing with computers and is considering going back to school to do a programming degree, just for giggles. Or the opportunity to take over the world. (Oh, who are we kidding? Think of all the work that would mean.) She also likes pictures of pretty men and keeps many of them on her computer. (The pictures, not the men.) She would dearly love a cabana boy to mow her lawn and maybe rub her shoulders after a long day of making men fall in love with each other, then cackling evilly and raining frustration and danger on them.


Red Dirt Heart by N.R. Walker #Review #Excerpt #Giveaway

Reddirtheart300RED DIRT HEART

By N.R. Walker

BLURB:

Welcome to Sutton Station: One of the world’s largest working farms in the middle of Australia – where if the animals and heat don’t kill you first, your heart just might. Charlie Sutton runs Sutton Station the only way he knows how; the way his father did before him. Determined to keep his head down and his heart in check, Charlie swears the red dirt that surrounds him – isolates him – runs through his veins. American agronomy student Travis Craig arrives at Sutton Station to see how farmers make a living from one of the harshest environments on earth. But it’s not the barren, brutal and totally beautiful landscapes that capture him so completely. It’s the man with the red dirt heart.

EXCERPT:

Just on sundown, I got off the motorbike, kicked the stand down so the bike stood upright without me and closed the gate. I’d been out all day in the South paddocks doing a final check of fences and water trough pumps before we bought the cattle down from the North. I’d seen the ute back at the homestead as I came in so I knew George was home.

George was my leading hand. He was in his fifties, with greying hair and sun-hardened skin. He’d worked here for as long I could remember, but he was more than a loyal employee. He was my friend, and in a lot of ways, more of a dad to me than my own old man ever was.

He’d been out all day, left before sun-up and headed into Alice Springs. We were a good three hours from the nearest town, and with a list as long as his arm from the Station cook, Ma—who also happened to be his wife—he needed a few hours in town before heading out to the airport to pick up the real reason for his trip: an American agronomy student by the name of Travis Craig.

When my father ran this farm, or station as we called it, every year we’d have people from another country come and spend a couple of weeks as part of some Diversification exchange program. My old man always said it was a good way to source out what other countries were teaching, but really I think he just liked the extra pair of hands at the finish of the dry season. And when we’d had a phone call back in July to ask if we’d be interested in hosting another student, and given it’d been a few years, I thought it seemed like a good idea. Now I couldn’t help but wonder if this Travis Craig would be a help or a liability.

I rode the bike into the yard and pulled up in the shed. I figured they’d know I’d arrived, having heard the bike, so I headed straight for the house. Like most homesteads built almost a hundred years ago, it was a weatherboard home, with an old iron roof and a veranda around four sides to try and keep it cool.

I kicked the red dust from my boots on the veranda steps and tried to brush the same from my jeans, took off my hat before I opened the door and walked inside. There was a suitcase and a duffel bag near the front door and voices at the back of the house.

“In the kitchen,” George called out.

I followed the sound of chatter and the smell of something good to find a meeting of sorts in the old country-style kitchen. The worn, solid wooden table that graced the middle of the room was covered with plates of scones and trays of cups and tea, and three people were in chairs around it—my right-hand man, George, his wife the cook, Ma, and a stranger with short light-brown hair and pale blue eyes.

George was the first to his feet, and the man beside him soon followed. “Here’s the boss, Charles Sutton,” George said, introducing me formally. “Charlie, this is Travis Craig.”

Travis looked about twenty-two years old, not much younger than me. Whereas I was a stockier build, with dull brown hair and boring brown eyes, he was taller than me by a few inches and muscular and lean. He held out his hand and smiled. “Mr Sutton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His accent was strange to hear at first, but his smile was warm and wide.

I wiped my hand on my shirt and held it out for him to shake. “Travis,” I said with a nod. “Please, call me Charlie.”

Red Dirt Heart Walker

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Red-Dirt-Heart-N-R-Walker-ebook/dp/B00IKGXWYC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1393216088&sr=8-1&keywords=red+dirt+heart

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-reddirtheart-1429286-145.html

Contact Information:

Website: nrwalker.wordpress.com. Facebook: N.r. Walker (https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003907957620)

Facebook Fan Page: N.R. Walker Author

Twitter: @NR_Walker Email: nrwalker2103@gmail.com

Tour Badge

About N.R. Walker

Who am I?

Good question…

I am many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer.

I have pretty, pretty boys who live in my head, who don’t let me sleep at night unless I give them life with words.

I like it when they do dirty, dirty things… but I like it even more when they fall in love.

I used to think having people in my head talking to me was weird, until one day I happened across other writers who told me it was normal.

I’ve been writing ever since…

_____________

Who wants to read this book for free?

Do the Rafflecopter thing to be entered in the draw to win a copy of Red Dirt Heart:

 a Rafflecopter giveaway

———————

And, finally, my review of Red Dirt Heart. I received this book from Will Parkinson of the new and exciting Pride Promotions, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Actually, when I heard N.R. Walker needed stops for her blog blast thingy today, I was like, “Yeah, I can plug that stuff in over the weekend and have it ready for Monday.” And then Will sends me the book and I’m thinking, “Oh, shit! I didn’t say I could review it by Monday! I’ve got 3 kids home for February break, edits pinging back and forth on Double Takes, out-of-town guests coming on Friday, and then my MIL arriving on Saturday for a week-long visit (this is me biting my tongue). I have to work the daylily booth at the flower show on Saturday! I haven’t put new words on my WIP in nearly a week. No. Can. Do. Dammit. I’ll just open it up and see if it’s short.”

I scanned the first few pages including an adorable little Australian Terms Glossary (BTW, I’m pretty sure scones are an English invention–yes, we Americans have embraced and bastardized those delicious pastries since the first Brit brought ’em over here, but we can’t claim them). I read the Chapter 1 heading: Where the American guy walks in, all blue eyes and disarming smiles, and my life goes to shit. I was as much a goner as Charlie.

A day later I was at 48% when my PDF copy came up blank. So cruel! I headed over to Amazon, cursing a blue streak at the interruption, and clicked myself a new one. I got to 83% while my hubby folded laundry. I’m pretty sure I owe him some snoo-snoo tonight, which shouldn’t be a hardship because the sex in this book is smokin’ hot and prolific, but not to the point where you’re like, “Really? Again?” Nope. You’re like, “Oh, yeah. Cue the Barry White, baby.”

Charlie and Travis are so real and sweet and amazing together. You can’t help but be swept up in their love affair. Normally, I’m not the sort who enjoys those little Chapter one-line teasers. LOVED THEM! They roped me into a reading jag with their brief hints at what was coming. They just kept stringing me along, chapter after chapter.

This book is well-written and edited. A few missing words here and there, but nothing that slows your reading or pisses you off. My biggest problem was trying to get the character’s accents right in my head (yes, I need to do the accents for all dialog). But flipping back and forth between a Texas drawl and an Outback twang was tough!  I paused multiple times to say either, “Now, that’s a knife,” or “Ya’ll come back now, ya hear?” to warm up my accent. It’s particularly challenging when you live in New England and therefore don’t have any accent. 😉

5 shooters

Anyway, I loved this book. It was a solid 5 shooters for me, nearly perfect in every way and highly recommended to lovers of the genre and then some. Read it. You won’t regret it.

-Kimber


Winter Wonder Man Blog Hop $50 Gift Card #giveaway and More!

Welcome to the Winter Wonder Man Blog Hop. I’m one of your many hosts, Kimber Vale. Our topic is sexy men who make your toes curl and keep you warm on those cold winter nights.

Well, here’s a babe who keeps my dreams spicy-hot.

Nothing I love more than a sexy singer covered in tattoos. Swoon. I’ve got a history of writing characters exactly like that, as a matter of fact. 😉

I’m days away from sending my second rock star book, Double Takes, Shooting Stars Book 2 to my publisher. To celebrate, I’ll include a snippet from that book.

—-

“Can’t be too careful, huh?” Gio said. Cities were cities, but still it seemed a little paranoid to lock your door just to walk down the stairs. Maybe he had an undesirable neighbor.

“Just a creature of habit, I guess,” Lance answered, as they stepped into his place. He dead bolted the door behind them. “Too many bad guys out there.”

“And yet you let me in.”

Lance turned to Gio with a serious expression.

“Are you a bad guy, Gio Savale? If you are, tell me now.” His face broke into a half-grin. “Yeah, it would shatter a decade-long fantasy. But if you’re here to spend the night, it’ll hurt much worse tomorrow.”

Gio’s stomach flip-flopped. Was he here to spend the night? And was he a good enough guy to live up to whatever Lance made him out to be?

I’m just a guy. Not a god. Not a hero. Hell and gone from perfect. Gio raked a hand through his hair as he searched for the truth. “My life’s a fucked-up mess.” He coughed a laugh. “I’m totally conflicted about even coming here…” He shook his head, asking for understanding with his eyes. “But I couldn’t stop myself.” Gio stepped closer to the man he’d inexplicably wanted since the first moment he saw him. “I’m just a guy who can’t get you out of my head. Is that good enough?”

Lance closed the distance between them. Their bodies nearly touched, and his warm hands reached up to frame Gio’s stubbled cheeks. “That’s perfect,” he said.

——-

If you love someone, set him free. If he steals something of yours, hunt him down and make him sorry. Alex Bremen is over Chance Ralan. Ever since his high school boyfriend ditched him nine years ago, Alex has barely thought of Chance at all. Sure, Alex attended a concert or two when his ex’s band, Armageddon Showdown, was in the area, but that was more curiosity than anything else. Who wouldn’t want to see firsthand how his once clean-cut boyfriend transformed into a pierced and tattooed heavy metal god? But when Chance has the nerve to record a love song Alex wrote for him years ago, Alex crosses the country to confront him. Revenge becomes a dish best served sizzling hot. The two men lock horns, but find the chemistry between them has only intensified with time, and occasionally love needs to do some growing up before it can be done right.

If you love someone, set him free. If he steals something of yours, hunt him down and make him sorry.

For my individual giveaway, I’ve got a $5 Amazon gift card.  Click on the Rafflecopter link below to enter.

My Rafflecopter giveaway for a $5 Amazon e-Gift Card

Make sure you leave a comment to be in the running for the grand prize $50 Barnes & Noble or Amazon gift card (winner’s choice), and check out the prizes at all of these other stops:


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Terms and Conditions: This promotion is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with, Facebook. We hereby release Facebook of any liability. Winner(s) will be contacted by email 48 hours after the giveaway ends. If you have any additional questions – feel free to send us an email!

Thanks for playing!

-Kimber

*****UPDATE! Thanks for playing, everyone! Donna Newman is my winner for the $5 gift card, and Joanne W. wins the $50 grand gift prize!


Procrastination Works for Me

Okay, it may not work for the almighty word count (hey, I’m up to 23,196 on my NaNoWriMo so nanny-nanny-boo-boo all you suckers who thought you had to get that shit done in a month).

No, seriously, I suck big fat ostrich…eggs when it comes to getting my writing done in a timely fashion. I’ve tried forcing it, but it simply won’t work for me that way. In the case of my NaNo, and current, WIP (Shooting Stars Book 3), I stopped after a week to work on edits for “Double Takes” so I could get that out to beta readers. Oh, and I started my November writathon a few days late because I had to finish DTs.

No, I still haven’t gotten DTs to my publisher. Screw you for judging me.

But, in my own slllloooooowwwww defense, my waiting-until-the-feeling-is just-right approach (and no, again, I was never like that with guys) is working for me now.

I’ve been mulling over my next scene in Shooting Stars Book 3—yes it has a title, and no I won’t tell you what it is because it is so fucking good and I am a weeeeeee bit paranoid a faster writer will rip that shit out from under me. Fuck, a dead writer could probably do it.

Shhhhhhh.

Where was I? Yeah, so I was trying to triangulate this scene (I was just doing some stupid math homework with the biggest hobbit. Forgive my triangulation), and I couldn’t quite make it work (not at all unlike this crazy 5th grade math homework. WTF????) so I slept on it.

I’m such a planner, I can’t sit down and write until it feels right, you know? I’ve heard of writing through writer’s block and that sounds swell, Beav, but if I don’t know what the hell I’m writing, then…  What the hell am I writing? Damn straight I’ll be re-writing.

I digress. It’s the wine.

So, I had a vague outline for my scene based on the events of senior week for my character’s college, which I found online. I didn’t really like how it all fit together, and if I don’t like it in my head, I sure as shit don’t like writing it. Anyway, come to find out the next day after I slept on it (okay, twice. Maybe three times) that the itinerary I was looking at was for the wrong school with a similar name. Freakin’ Google. I Googled it again with the correct name to double-check, and the wrong one came up again. Same city. Similar name. I guess Google prefers BC to BU.

So does my husband.

Long story too freakin’ long, I scrapped the whole thing. Not that I couldn’t pull the artistic license card. I could. It’s fiction. But it wasn’t right and I knew it.

I guess my point is that I’m psychic. And I procrastinate.

Oh! And I slept on this new information and came up with a fantastic new scene in which I was able to write in my old buddy Gio from “Double Takes.”

See? Taking your sweet ass time can pay off on occasion.

Pipe down all you NaNo winners who are on your third book since November. I’ve got my ears covered and I’m singing “La Cucaracha” at the top of my voice.

-Kimber


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