On a mining colony planet a long way from Earth, bandit Jedd Lightning dreams of making enough money to get off the planet for good. When a robbery at a high-class brothel goes wrong, he meets gorgeous rentboy Storm and is instantly smitten. But Storm has a few surprises up his sleeve, and when Jedd helps him escape, he realises he might have taken on more than he can handle…

JL Merrow and Lou Harper are once again my fabulous beta readers – any remaining mistakes are my own.

But now, on with the story:

Gun drawn, Jedd pushed himself between Storm and the…thing. It was about man-height, as far as he could tell in these infernal tunnels, and shuffled towards them, making a strange snuffling noise. Something dragged on the floor behind it, making a counterpoint to the heavy steps.

It couldn’t really be a…

“A crocodillo!” Storm squeaked behind him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Can’t be.” Jedd took a tentative step forward, but the thing didn’t seem to change its slow waddle. “I’m going to take a closer look.” He wasn’t sure quite why he’d started speaking in hushed tones. Perhaps Storm’s fear was contagious.

“I’m coming with you,” Storm whispered, and grabbed hold of Jedd’s hand with a clammy grip, dislodging the datapod he’d been holding. It splashed as it fell.

“Suns above! You’d better not have broken it.” Jedd knelt down to pick his datapod up from the puddle of inky water. It was only a cheap one Yakin had given him, and probably not waterproof. “Fuck it to Earth and back, the fucking screen’s not working! If we can’t find our way out of here, we’re down shit gully without a rope.” Jedd handed the dripping pod to a contrite looking Storm. “Here, try and dry it off on your robes. I want to check out whatever that thing is.” He waved his gun in the direction of their shuffling companion. “If it gives me any shit, it’s eating a charge blast for lunch.”

Storm’s arm trembled, but he nodded and began drying the machine, casting wary glances down the tunnel at the thing. It was too far away to make out any details, but it didn’t seem to have picked up its pace, which was reassuring. It waddled like a pregnant Ranak about to drop her younglings.

As they grew closer, the hunchback shape revealed itself. No, not a four-legged creature. It walked on two legs, and that dragging sound wasn’t a tail but a bag being pulled along. The face of the thing confused Jedd to begin with, but then he made sense of the grotesquely empty eye-sockets and the toothless mouth, the tangle of wild white hair. This wasn’t an animal. It was a person. A blind person.

“What under the suns is she?” Storm said, his voice climbing in volume.

“She? What makes you think it’s female?”

“Just a vibe I’m getting. Women’s psyfields usually feel different to male ones. Not as overpowering. Much smoother.”

“You sound like you prefer them.”

“You sound like you’re jealous,” Storm taunted.

“Not a chance.” Jedd worked on stamping down the twinge of envy Storm’s words had called up. Cursed mindreaders, or empaths, or whatever it was that Storm was. What did he need to feel jealous about? It wasn’t like he actually liked Storm all that much, no matter how physically delicious he was in every single little way.

Yeah, he had to stop thinking about that. Jedd concentrated on the mysterious waddling crone instead. Was that a T’alkmaki wedding dress she was wearing? The blue silky fabric was stained and filthy, but he could just make out the traditional gold embroidery around the tattered lower edge.

Jedd laughed and the hag stopped, her head turning rapidly from side to side. She looked more like a Ranak scenting vegetation than a human. An involuntary shiver rattled his teeth. Damn, she sure had some creepy moves.

“Hello?” Storm called. “Can you help us?”

The crone didn’t answer, but she resumed her shuffling pace.

“Help?” Jedd muttered. “What do we need help for?”

“Well, we appear to be lost.” Storm held up Jedd’s datapod.

For a brief moment Jedd thought the cheap piece of shit really had suffered from its dip in the water, but was relieved to see the screen lit up with the map still clearly shown. “We’re fine. I’ve been following the map. I can show you exactly where we are.”

“Yes, but I’ve just realised you’ve been holding it upside down.” Storm grinned and turned the pod the other way up. “It must be set up for using on a Ranak. I saw a data feed on it once. They make them so they mount upside down. You set your course from the ground while the beast is kneeling, which is why the menu screens are that way up, but you want to see the maps from the other direction while in the saddle.”

“Son of a pox-ridden whore! That dumbshit, cheapskate idiot! Why the fuck couldn’t he have told me he’d stolen them off a lousy Ranak herder?” Jedd could have kicked himself, but a sore ankle wouldn’t help them get out of there any faster.

“It’s okay, there has to be a way out of here somewhere. Stands to reason, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but we don’t want to end up accidentally surfacing in the basement of a guard house, do we?”

“I could go on ahead and distract them.”

“Like hell you could,” Jedd growled. The idea of anyone else getting their hands on Storm filled him with a murderous rage. He clenched his fists by his side and tried to stare down his grinning companion, blood pounding in his ears.

Storm frowned and looked around, his nose twitching. Come to think of it, there was an awful stench creeping up on them. An olfactory cocktail that reminded Jedd of fermented firebush, burnt hair and Ranak shit.

Snakes alive! The tunnel-hag.

The old woman had almost reached them, and now he concentrated Jedd could hear a stream of faint babble coming from her mouth, the words distorted by her missing teeth but still just about comprehensible.

“and the man says to Sara, he says he couldn’t do that, oh no, he couldn’t, but she was hungry and she wouldn’t listen and she took—”

Storm took a step towards her. “Hello, can you hear me?”

The babbling continued. Jedd sighed. Maybe she was as deaf as she was blind. What a life! Living down here in these dank tunnels, but there was no place for one as disfigured as she was on the surface. The T’almaki would run her out of town rather than have her polluting their picturesque streets. He tried to make sense of her words again, but instead heard another sound. A distant sound of pounding footsteps and T’almaki curses.

“Shit! I think the guards are gaining on us.”

Storm cocked his head and grimaced. The woman was only a few steps away now. Storm closed the distance and bent down to her level. “Hello?”

The crone’s arm flashed out and grabbed Storm’s neck. Jedd gasped and reflexively aimed his gun when he saw the flicker of steel. But it was too late. She had a foot-long blade held against that slender throat.

“Well, well, well, what haves we here? A tasty morsel for Sara? Oh, and smells delicious too. Much better than gopher. Sara has been a good girl, hasn’t she?”

The crone laughed, an ugly cackling sound that echoed down the tunnel and turned Jedd’s blood to ice.

***

Will Storm end up as the tunnel-hag’s lunch? Find out next week in another thrilling installment of Storm and Lightning!

Violetta:

As new authors, we were thrilled to receive our first ever review—a highly positive one—at the Dear Author blog. Even more thrilling, the reviewer highlighted something we’re very proud of: “The sense of time and place in this short story is amazingly authentic.”

That was for our free short story, “Harm Reduction,” which spans twenty years but stays within the same New York City block. It’s an area and an era I happen to know well. New York City was my home in the early 1990s, and I made a tenuous living at a strange assortment of jobs while migrating between an SRO on the Upper West Side, a warehouse-loft in the Brooklyn Navy Yards and a squat house on the Lower East Side. So when we set the story in the Lower East side, I had sense memories to draw on, as well as the feel of the era.

The US was in a recession. But social opportunities, at least, were beginning to open up, now that the repressive conservatism of the Reagan-Bush years was waning. And HIV/AIDS prevention policy was a huge beneficiary of that movement. Imagine the entire healthcare system in this country being legally prevented from saying that condoms could help stop the transmission of HIV! That was how it used to be, and why “Silence=Death” became the slogan of activists who fought for change.

We don’t mention these politics. But they’re still in the story indirectly, because our characters are very much products of their time, and one of them (Julio) is actively trying to change that time. He combines careful analysis with intense passion; he’s aware of what’s wrong in the world, and aware that a single person can’t fix it all… but he still tries.

If we didn’t spend so much time imagining and reimagining the setting, that passion wouldn’t be as grounded or real. Each character in a romance has to have a passion burning within themselves… otherwise, how can they feel it for each other?

Heidi:

Another awesome compliment we received on that story was someone who, tagging the book for their goodreads shelves, tagged it with ‘city-as-character’, which is really a fantastic way of putting it. In any given story, setting can easily just serve as a quiet, inconspicuous backdrop, or even be completely absent, leaving your characters living and loving in some kind of creepy white box. But as a consumer of media, one of the things some of my favourite romances do is bring setting to the forefront and make it integral to the story, as much a ‘character’ as the hero/hero/heroine or combination thereof.

For example, there’s a whole pile of time travel romances out there, but what would Outlander be without Scotland? Wuthering Heights without moors? Many stories live or die by the authenticity, appeal, or inherent romantic-ness of their settings.

One of my favourite guilty-pleasure movies is PS, I Love You. The story of a deceased husband gently helping his significant other through her grief is a pretty universal concept and could be set anywhere, but what that movie magically does is soak itself in Irish-ness from start to finish. Of course, if you asked my Irish husband about its portrayal of Ireland he’d balk from start to finish, but as a romance, you fall in love with Ireland just as much as you fall in love with Gerry, if not more, since Gerry is, himself, a part of Ireland, from his (oh so terrible, Gerard Butler!) accent to his music to the pub he drinks in to his choice in boxers.

I wanted to capture that same feeling when we wrote The Druid Stone, without writing some thatched-roof house fantasy version of Ireland. We hope our readers fall in love with something a little more grounded in reality, because ultimately the reality is just as romantic, economic troubles aside. So the first thing we did was start off with a character who doesn’t fall for the Ireland homecoming mythos—a man who, in fact, has significant reason to be especially resistant to Ireland’s charms.

Just like a good romance requires conflict between the main characters, The Druid Stone has conflict between character and setting. Sean’s background allows him (and thus our audience) to see Ireland more for what it is than what we often imagine it to be, which makes his love affair with the setting all the more enjoyable when he finally opens up to it. Ireland isn’t a perfect country, not by a long stretch ( nor is Sean’s Irish love interest, druid-for-hire Cormac Kelly), but there’s a definite reason for its significant emotional appeal in our cultural consciousness, and not tapping into that would be an absolute waste of a setting. We’re hoping that setting, and our dedication to portraying it as more than a postcard, will really set The Druid Stone apart.

Violetta:

The Druid Stone won’t be out from Carina until August, but we have a prequel story coming out this week that’s just as much about Sean’s complicated relationship to place.  Sean comes from a mixed family, but he’s not confused at all about what he is: he identifies first and foremost as Cuban-American. His confusion has to do with where— with a sense of feeling out of place and not belonging. At the stage of his life he’s at in “Cruce de Caminos”, he doesn’t feel at home anywhere… until he wanders into New Orleans.

The city represents a sense of history, a rootedness, that he longs for. “Cruce de Caminos” isn’t a romance, though. Sean isn’t ready for that yet. The passion New Orleans stirs up won’t be fulfilled, and the central question of the story is not whether he can find love, but whether or not he can even change his own tragically wasted young life. Like the blurb says, the city brings him to his knees.

Heidi:

But in defeat, or worship?

Of course, sense of place doesn’t have to be a complicated, conflicting thing. For Ori and Kalani in Hawaiian Gothic, their relationship with their home is like one between mother and sons. Hawai’i is a lifegiver and a caretaker and a beautiful, welcoming place, and every single setting across the islands is written to evoke that perfect feeling of knowing that you are where you belong. And when you’ve had a life as difficult and heartbreaking as Ori and Kalani’s, having something you can count on like that may save your life.

Violetta:

We’ve both been to Hawai’i, and our own passion for the place is woven through the story. We also love writing about places we’ve never been, however. Our free short story coming out for the Love is Always Write event is set almost entirely in Finland, 1941. Some of the descriptions of extreme cold came naturally to Heidi, but otherwise, we knew very little about the setting at the onset. We researched like crazy, and by the end of it, we’d fallen in love with the place through the eyes of our characters.

Heidi:

Your turn! Tell us, what are your favourite romantic settings? Any books that really “get” a particular setting or really take advantage of it? Any settings you’d like to see more of?

About Heidi and Violetta:

Heidi Belleau and Violetta Vane are two unlikely friends and co-writers from different sides of the same continent. Heidi, from Northern Canada, is a history geek with a soft spot for Highlanders and Victorian pornography. Violetta is a Yank (and a Southerner, and a Japanese-American) with a cinematic imagination and a faintly checkered past. Together, they write strange and soulful interracial and multicultural m/m with a global sensibility and the occasional paranormal twist.

Visit us online!

HeidiBelleau.com |Facebook|Twitter |Blog |Goodreads |Tumblr

ViolettaVane.com |Facebook |G+ |Twitter |Blog |Goodreads |Amazon |Pinterest

New Release Mailing List for Heidi and Violetta (new releases only)

About “Cruce de Caminos”, out May 21st from Riptide Publishing

Addiction drives Sean O’Hara to a critical crossroads. Will he make the right decision, or will the floodwaters bound for New Orleans sweep him away?

BuyIt / Read an Excerpt |Add to Goodreads

About Hawaiian Gothic, out June 12th from Loose Id

Childhood friends Ori and Kalani sort through dark family history and even journey to the Hawaiian ghostworld for a second chance at love.

Website | Add to Goodreads

Links to free stories at Heidi’s blog

Us Brits are apparently mocked the world over for our strange obsession with the weather, so I thought I’d dip into this one a little further. Yes, I’m going to admit it – I too am obsessed with the weather. Partly this is because I love gardening so I need to know what’s going to be happening weather-wise when it comes to planning garden tasks. But mostly it’s because of that daily decision of “what am I going to wear today?”

Take today as a case in point: when I walked Daisy to school it was mild and sunny with no wind. I didn’t wear a coat for a pleasant change, but opted for shoes with long socks as it still seemed a little nippy for sandals. By the time I got home my feet were roasting. Now though, a few hours later and a chill wind has got up. It’s okay when the sun shines and you’re in a sheltered spot, but if you’re somewhere exposed and the sun goes behind a cloud, it’s bloody freezing. What the hell do you wear when you go out on days like this?

The answer: lots of layers. And make sure you take a big bag to put your layers in if it heats up. You might even need to go the fashion disaster route of socks with sandals! Not attractive, but very practical in weather like this. NB – Jo would like to add that she has never worn socks with sandals… Well, okay, maybe once, but she was camping so it’s allowed.

There is good reason why our climate is one of the most unpredictable in the world. We are positioned on the boundary between two climate cells of cold polar air and warm tropical air. Add in the maritime influence of all that wet air off the Atlantic, and the complications of the jet stream right above us unpredictably mixing all the different fronts of air – well, is it any wonder we get a surprise every morning when we look out of the window?

There are many ways this unpredictable weather impacts on us as a nation, for instance, our favourite topic of conversation. The weather is our cast-iron small talk subject – it will always work when striking up conversations with strangers. What’s more, with a climate like ours it isn’t ever boring. Well, okay, maybe a bit boring, but a damn sight better than my father-in-law’s favourite topic of the congestion on the motorways.

I also think our national character is a response to this crazy weather. We go on stoically planning outdoor events in the summer, only to see at least half of them blighted by rain. You have to be able to laugh or you’d be miserable half the time. On the other hand, we do like to make the best of sunny days, so you get all kinds of impromptu barbeques and people baring their skin at the slightest ray of sunshine – you have to make the most of it as it might be all you get for weeks!

Personally, I love the unpredictability of the British climate (daily wardrobe hassles aside). All that rain is what makes our country so green and lush, and I own a super-sexy rainbow-coloured umbrella which is always a pleasure to use. Since moving out to the West Country, which is even more unpredictable than other parts of the British Isles, I’ve seen countless rainbows in the sky – ephemeral visions which bring joy to my heart every time.

So, fellow Brits, what do you make of our weather? Are you obsessed and do you think we have good reason to be? And what about those of you from the rest of the world: would you swap your climate for the British one: wet and mild with all kinds of freakish floods, storms, cold snaps and heatwaves to keep us on our toes?

Yes, I decided my weekly updates needed a little something extra to illustrate them, so now you’ll be able to enjoy a picture of men snogging to begin your working weeks. Just what I need to get me in the mood for writing!

Writing:

Last week I wrote Dragon Dance – my late submission for the UK Meet anthology. Let’s hope the rest of the team like it enough to include it – this isn’t a foregone conclusion! I also got back to writing Storm and Lightning and my regular Wednesday blog post. Didn’t manage a Vintage Smut Sunday, but I definitely will this week.

Other than that, I’m really not sure where my week went. I think I’m still catching up on everything after the move, plus sorting things out behind the scenes for the anthology.

I did find out my short story, The Wrong Side of the Glass, has been accepted for Xcite’s Bad Boys gay erotica anthology, coming out in August, so that’s good to hear!

Real life:

I’m making headway on battling down the big pile of unpacked boxes. Last week I worked on clearing out most of the stuff that had been dumped straight from our old loft into our new garage. A lot of it is fabric stuff, and it all smells musty so I’m having to run the washing machine constantly. I will get the conservatory cleared of boxes before the weekend, though – it’s good to have goals!

The weather over the weekend was beautiful, so I spent lots of time enjoying the new garden with Daisy. We also found her scooter at the back of the garage and took it out onto the road outside. We’re on a little private road that doesn’t ever get used as a rat run, so it’s really safe for her to practice on. I love living here!

The only thing I don’t like about my new garden is the bindweed infestation. Ugh! I’ve battled with the stuff before on allotments, and it’s almost impossible to get rid of. Ah well, at least it will keep me out there, paying attention to everything so I can stay on top of it.

This week:

I have my first round of edits on The Hot Floor to complete, plus I’ll be editing stories for the Lashings of Sauce anthology and planning a revamp of the website. I don’t think I’ll be doing much in the way of new writing, but I’ll definitely be busy!

ETA: watch out for a fascinating guest post from authors Violetta Vane and Heidi Belleau this Thursday.

On a mining colony planet a long way from Earth, bandit Jedd Lightning dreams of making enough money to get off the planet for good. When a robbery at a high-class brothel goes wrong, he meets gorgeous rentboy Storm and is instantly smitten. But Storm has a few surprises up his sleeve, and when Jedd helps him escape, he realises he might have taken on more than he can handle…

JL Merrow and Lou Harper are once again my fabulous beta readers – any remaining mistakes are my own.

But now, on with the story:

Storm waited until Jedd had prised the grating free, then stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be going first,” he said, “Seeing as how you’re the one with the firepower, which we’ll need if those guards find a way down here.”

“What, not scared of those crocodillos anymore?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sweetheart, we really don’t have time right now. Later though. I promise I’ll give you the ride of your life once we’re out of here.”

Well, of all the jumped-up, egotistical—but no. Amusement rippled through Storm’s psy-field. Was Jedd deliberately winding him up? Clients didn’t do that. Clients were too conscious of their precious minutes ticking down, too ensnared by their lust to waste time on anything other than fucking. It was strangely refreshing to meet someone who could keep a lid on his urges.

Storm shimmied down through the small hole, dropping into another similar room below. There was yet another identical grating in the centre of the floor.

“This place just goes on and on, doesn’t it?” Jedd said once he’d followed Storm through. Landing more heavily on his feet, Storm was pleased to note. He liked having the more limber, lighter body of the two of them—not too different from the original form he’d lost. But what about this crewmate of Jedd’s? What would be his ideal lover?

Jedd crouched down to get to work on the next grating, and Storm leaned back against the wall, watching closely. It was hard not to admire the strong body and deft movements, but he was determined not to get drawn back into desiring Captain Smarmy-pants.

“What’s he like, your crewmate?” Storm asked, keeping the question light and casual.

Jedd’s shoulders tensed before he made a visible effort to relax them. “Nice guy,” he said shortly. “Bit of a techhead, but he still knows how to enjoy himself.”

“Enjoy himself how? Is he into men or women? Or a bit of both?”

“Less talking, more escaping,” Jedd snapped. “Keep an ear out for anyone following us.”

Storm huffed, but remained quiet as he watched Jedd grapple with the grate’s seal. In the end, though, it was Jedd who broke the silence.

“What’s it matter to you? He’s got a woman, anyway. They’re thinking of spawning soon.”

Jedd was thinking about his last question? Storm must have touched a nerve. “Well, he’s going to want to screw me too. Everyone does. I’m just wondering what shape I’m going to have to take for him.”

Jedd stared up at him, incredulous. “Suns above! You’re seriously thinking of seducing Marty? Ain’t gonna happen.” He crossed his arms then, glaring. “Not on my watch.”

“I’m not going to do it deliberately. I told you, I can’t help turning into what people most desire.”

“In terms of looks anyway,” Jedd muttered. “Not so sure about the rest.”

Storm had heard similar from the guards at Tavkel’s, who all thought he was a stroppy diva, even if he was “bootylicious” He decided to let the insult pour over him, like sand off a Ranak’s hide.

“I just want to be prepared. Seeing as how I’ll be trapped on a small ship with the two of you, I think I deserve an idea of what I’m letting myself in for.”

Jedd sighed, and his shoulders slumped down as he turned back to loosening the seal on the grating. “You’re not letting yourself in for anything just yet. Marty’s being held as collateral. We’ve got to get that passcode from Thrublet. That’s why I need you. I figure if anyone can wheedle it out of him, it will be his favourite whore.”

“So you rescued me for that?”

“What? Thought I was doing my good deed for the day? Fuck that. I’m a bandit. Up for hire by the highest bidder. I don’t do good deeds.”

The tough talk was a brittle facade, and Jedd wouldn’t make eye contact. Storm could feel the resentment and guilt underlying those words, but he let it pass.

Jedd frowned and pulled the loose grating up with a loud clank. “Come on, princess. We’ve hit the sewers. You can go first again. Unless you’d rather I did. Wouldn’t want a mythical creature to eat you, would we?”

“Screw you,” Storm said, but he smiled as he said it, then hopped down into the dank smelling tunnel below.

The sewers weren’t as fetid as Storm had expected. Yes, the walls were damp and a thin channel in the floor ran with brackish water, but it was nothing like the sewer systems he’d seen on datafeeds from old Earth. “This is okay,” he called to Jedd, who was making tracks ahead of him while squinting at his datapod. “Doesn’t stink like I expected.” His voice had a strange echo to it, more creepy than the darkness surrounding them.

“That’s because they now filter out anything they can use before it gets down here. Sell it to the farmers as fertiliser. How else d’you think they manage to grow food on this sandy rock?”

Storm had never considered T’almaki agriculture. As a Jiali, he’d always known how to forage for food in the open sands. There was always something there you could eat, if you knew how to look for it.

But right now he didn’t particularly care about how T’almaki scum grew their nasty food. Jedd’s predicament was preying on his mind. “So your Marty’s being held by some unscrupulous bastards you took a job for. What makes you think they’ll let him go, even if you do come up with the goods?”

“He’s going to have to.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise I’m going to blast my way in there and kill the lying, sadistic bastard! I don’t care if he is Cheerful fucking Charlie. I bet he bleeds just like anyone else, if you stick a knife in him.”

The swell of rage almost knocked Storm off his feet. “Cheerful Charlie? You mean Charlie Stubbs?” By the Sisters! No wonder Jedd was worried. He’d heard about Charlie’s rep from the guards, and the man had always made his skin crawl. Maybe he could help out, though. “I know Charlie.”

Jedd glanced back over his shoulder, sneering. “I’d heard. One of your clients, wasn’t he? Did you enjoy it, screwing him?”

“Not particularly. It wasn’t my kink.”

“Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know what a sick fucker like that’s into. Bet he always has to be in total control, even in bed.”

Storm smiled to himself, remembering. “You’d be surprised.” Jedd just grunted and picked up speed. Storm had to jog to catch him up again, but then kept pace so he could watch Jedd’s face as they escaped. “I might be able to help you there, though. I could distract him. Get him in a vulnerable position. He’s very private. Doesn’t want anyone else seeing or hearing him being serviced, so the guards are always sent out.”

“I’m not putting you in danger like that.”

“If I’m going to be crew, I don’t see why I shouldn’t join in on missions.”

“You will, at Thrublet’s place. But not with Charlie. No way. I’m not having him kidnap anyone else I c— He’s not taking anything else of mine.”

The original word may have been cut off with a horrified expression, but Storm could feel the sentiment coming through loud and clear. So, Captain Machismo actually cared, did he? That was kind of…sweet. And disturbing. Because it meant there was a nice guy somewhere under all that bravado.

But before Storm could say anything, Jedd had frozen, his eyes wide.

“What the fuck is that?”

***

What indeed? Could they have discovered the mythical crocodillo?! Find out next week in another thrilling installment of Storm and Lightning!

As the world gets smaller and people communicate more regularly with those in other countries, our pool of stories grows deeper and deeper. Every country has at least one. The most well-known Fairy Tales in my region of the world come from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson, probably because many have been used in modern media, although I can assure you the little mermaid did not get her man, and Cinderella’s step sisters didn’t look half as funny trying on the glass slipper in the original as they did in Disney…there was a lot more blood in the first version. Sadly the most well-known Fairy Tales are also the least well known for that very reason. People have sugar coated them until Fairy Tales have come to be known as children’s stories, warping them into happy endings. I assure you, most didn’t begin that way.  If you would like some examples, here is a link to the top 10 gruesome Fairy Tale origins: http://listverse.com/2009/01/06/9-gruesome-fairy-tale-origins/

In recent years there seems to have been a trend back toward the original darkness in these stories. Movies like The Brothers Grimm (2005), Black Swan (2010), and Red Riding Hood (2011) while they don’t follow the Fairy Tales themselves, definitely take steps back toward capturing the adult nature of the genre.  Even more than the recapturing of old stories, we’re seeing new tales as well. I’ve come across them mostly in comic books for example, Vögelein: Clockwork Faerie (2003) is a comic book about a clockwork doll whose guardian dies, she is left seeking someone she can trust to wind her. She is afraid if she winds down, when they wind her again she’ll only be a toy.

I’m not sure if my books would count as Fairy Tales or not.

You’re welcome to give them a read and decide for yourself ^_^, here’s my latest.

Daybreak for a Stolen Child

Nearly a year since the nightmare at the cabin. Life for Daniel and Leinad hasn’t gotten easier, but at least there is something to say for familiarity. They fight, they threaten, but they love each other and in the end, that should be enough.

It isn’t.

When the shadows start stealing closer, and the past begins catching up to them, how long will the two lovers have before the Fae in Daniel emerges, and before Leinad has to face his own demons once again? Until the harsh light of reality engulfs the fragile world they’ve built for themselves?

How long will it be until daybreak?

Can you think of some modern movies or books that would count as a Fairy Tale?

Anna’s website: http://www.annamayle.com/
Blog: http://annamayle.blogspot.com/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4430205.Anna_Mayle
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RaihneStorm
Email: annaemayle@gmail.com

Like many pastimes, mountain biking has a terminology all of its own.  And oh, what fun for the writer discovering this fresh seam of innuendo-ripe jargon!

Take bonking… You probably already know the British slang meaning of the verb “to bonk”

Small Bridesmaid: What’s bonking?
Scarlett: Well, it’s kinda like table tennis, only with slightly smaller balls.

-                  Four Weddings and a Funeral

But in mountain biking, it has quite a different meaning:

Expression used by cyclists to describe exercise induced low blood sugar levels; being a feeling of light-headedness and weakness in all limbs. Similar to ‘The Wall’ in running. – Urban Dictionary

Here’s Tim’s introduction to the term in Hard Tail, shortly after he’s been drafted in to manage his injured brother’s bike shop:

“I was about to close the magazine when a title caught my eye: What Really Happens During Bonking. I did a double-take and looked around furtively, wondering for a moment if one of the porno mags had slipped inside this issue… I still sniggered as I read the article, with its useful tips on how to avoid a bonk.”

Poor Tim. He could probably have done with that advice during his ill-fated marriage to Kate!

Here’s a couple of other terms that may (or may not) be of use:

Grunt: a very difficult climb

Grinder: a long uphill climb

Condom:  the little plastic or rubber thing that protects your tube’s valve stem from rim damage

Nipple:  the nut at the end of a spoke that nobody knows the real name for.

crotch-testing: sudden impact between a male rider’s private parts and something very hard and pointy, such as a handlebar stem or seat.

And, of course, Hard tail: a bike with front suspension but no rear suspension.

Obviously.

Definitions courtesy of the entertainingly-written Dictionary of Mountain Bike Slang.

***

Mountain biking can’t be the only sport/pastime with slightly dodgy jargon!

Do any of you have the sort of hobby where, if you talk about it in public, you get funny looks – even if what you’re saying is entirely innocent?

All commenters will be entered into a draw for winner’s choice of an e-book from my backlist, PLUS a gift certificate for $25 from Amazon (or the e-book retailer of your choice). The more blog tour posts you comment on, the more chances you get!  See my website here for full itinerary.

Finding love can be a bumpy ride.

His job: downsized out of existence. His marriage: dead in the water. It doesn’t take a lot of arm twisting for Tim Knight to agree to get out of London and take over his injured brother’s mountain bike shop for a while. A few weeks in Southampton is a welcome break from the wreck his life has become, even though he feels like a fish out of water in this brave new world of outdoor sports and unfamiliar technical jargon.

The young man who falls—literally—through the door of the shop brings everything into sharp, unexpected focus. Tim barely accepts he’s even in the closet until his attraction to Matt Berridge pulls him close enough to touch the doorknob.

There’s only one problem with the loveable klutz: his bullying boyfriend. Tim is convinced Steve is the cause of the bruises that Matt blows off as part of his risky sport. But rising to the defense of the man he’s beginning to love means coming to terms with who he is—in public—in a battle not even his black belt prepared him to fight. Until now.

Product Warnings: Contains an out-and-proud klutz, a closeted, karate-loving accountant—and a cat who thinks it’s all about him. Watch for a cameo appearance from the Pricks and Pragmatism lovers. May inspire yearnings for fresh air, exercise, and a fit, tanned bike mechanic of your very own.

Hard Tail is available from Samhain Publishing at a reduced price for a limited time only.

Jamie’s website: http://www.jlmerrow.com/index.html
Blog: http://jl-merrow.livejournal.com/
Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/jl.merrow?ref=profile
Goodreads page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2980235.J_L_Merrow
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003AVKLUK

I hope you’ll all show my guests your support and join in the conversation by leaving your comments. Anyone else who wants to guest blog here, just send me an email and I’ll book you in.

josephine.myles5@gmail.com

Congratulations to Bookwyrm369, who was chosen by the random number generator out of the 147 comments during the Handle with Care blog tour (that total doesn’t include my replies to comments)

I’ll be in contact for details of where to send your prize

Thank you so much to everyone who stopped by and shared their thoughts and book recommendations with me. I have a whole stack of books now on my “to buy” list – as if I needed any more!

And as a commiseration prize to the rest of you, here’s a cute picture of some boys kissing

Here then, is a step-by-step guide to my drafting process–I might sometimes compress some of the steps if I’m in a hurry, or add an extra one if I’ve had to make substantial changes during the process, but this is my ideal and involves a grand total of four drafts. There is no right or wrong way to draft a story, and your methods may vary, but I’m presenting this here in the hope there might be something useful for someone out there

Leave it alone!

I always leave my story alone for at least a week – preferably longer – before looking at it again. This isn’t hard to do because by the end of the first draft I’m usually feeling burnt out and want a break. However, soon enough the story calls to me again…

Scribble all over it

I always print out my first drafts on paper. Yes, I know I could read through them on my Kindle and make notes there, but I find paper and pencil to be freeing. On my first read through of the first draft I am merciless. I’m looking for flab to cut out of the story. I’m looking for the bits I neglected to write properly because I was so caught up in the flow. I’m looking at the overall story arc and the pacing. I’m looking for inconsistencies and accidentally dropped sub plots. I try to keep this first read through fairly fast, so I get a sense of the pacing. I don’t have time to look at the nitty-gritty of word choice and typos – although I usually pick a few of the worst offenders up while going through.

When I open up my document again to cut, reshuffle and add those extra scenes, I go through the whole story again. This time I do try to catch the clunky sentences, clichés and typos, but I don’t run a full spell check at this stage.

Get a second opinion

Once I’ve finished going through the document I have my second draft complete. This is the one I send off to my beta readers. It isn’t perfect just yet, but what I’m looking for from them isn’t proofreading, but their reactions to the story. I want to know if there are things that confuse them, if they understand the characters’ motivations. If they even like the characters. Sometimes I give my beta readers specific questions about the story I’d like to know their opinion on, but not always.

I always try to make sure I have at least two beta readers (one of whom is American and on the alert for anything too confusing for US readers), but I prefer there to be more. I also like to have at least one male beta on the team, although this isn’t always possible. Barging In had a grand total of eight beta readers for the entire book, and several more who gave feedback on just the first few chapters.

The Post-it stage

While I’m waiting for feedback from my beta readers, I enter into what I call the “Post-it” stage. This is when I’m constantly thinking about the story and remembering things that I’d meant to add but never quite got around to. I keep pads of Post-its and pencils at strategic places around the house and make sure I jot these down whenever they occur. Then I either stick them to my printed draft in the right place, or to a separate piece of paper. I take great pleasure in peeling them off and screwing them up when they’ve been dealt with

Pulling it all together

When the comments from betas come in I read them all then, and ponder any recurring criticisms. Do I need to write any new scenes or make any major changes? Handle with Care needed some major work at this stage, but other stories have required less.

Once I’ve decided roughly what needs doing I’ll read through the whole manuscript again (possibly on my Kindle this time, although I’ll print it if the changes are substantial), and make notes on all the things that need altering. I then go through the manuscript chapter by chapter with all my betas’ feedback to hand–all open on my desktop so I can click through them one after another. When I’ve finished, I’m at the third draft stage.

Finishing polish

What I should have now is a story that’s in pretty good shape for submission. All I need to do is proofread one last time, this time checking carefully for the more minor editing issues: typos, spelling/grammar errors, inelegant sentence structure, etc. I then make sure I’ve formatted everything as the publisher requires, and add in my cover page with the relevant details.

The bottle of bubbly stage

Hooray – I have my final draft ready for submission! Oh yes, just the minor issue of a submission cover letter and a draft blurb. Look out for more on those next month