It’s a new year–a good time to hope for and work toward positive changes. I’m not talking about resolutions here, although all power to you if you make ’em. I mean the big things: More Hope. More Peace. More Love. And I truly believe that small actions can lead to big results, especially in the aggregate. What you do counts. Even when the bad shit seems overwhelming, let’s all try to sneak in the good. Give a little help to someone who doesn’t expect it. Grant a sincere compliment. Support someone in words or deeds, even if their goals aren’t your own.
I’ve been trying to avoid most news and social media because they’re weighing me down. But for the next week, I’m trying an experiment. Every time I stumble across something negative or hurtful, I’m going to respond by posting something positive or supportive. Someone tweets something nasty? I’m going to tweet about a kind thing someone did or an accomplishment I really admire. A politician does something dangerous or stupid? I’ll post about people who’ve done something smart and helpful. I’m going to respond to ugliness with beauty.
This isn’t actually the post I set out to write. In fact, I intended to tell you about my trip to New Orleans and my next book, which releases in 10 days. But that discussion can wait a little while. In the meantime, consider joining my experiment? Maybe we won’t change the world, but I figure any bit of extra light helps dispel the darkness.
Lewis loves his holiday job. As the Ghost of Christmas Present, he guides people to improve their lives. Sure, he’s a little lonely at home in Minnesota, but Fezziwig the cat keeps him company.
When Lewis is spirited to California one Christmas Eve, he meets Sammy, an ex-lawyer who seems to already have his life in order. Lewis and Sammy share Korean fried chicken and a brief fling, but distance and career obligations appear destined to thwart anything permanent.
Maybe this year, Lewis is due for a special gift of his own.
**All proceeds from this book go to Doctors Without Borders**
In case you missed it, we’ve revealed the cover for Convicted.
Isn’t that gorgeous? I love Reese Dante’s work. She captured exactly the right look and mood for Des Hughes, who’s been locked up for a long time.
Want to do me a favor? Preorder Convicted now. The more preorders it gets, the better it does in Amazon’s algorithms, and the more Amazon suggests it to other people. All that is good because I’m donating 100% of my royalties to Doctors Without Borders. More sales = bigger donation!
The book releases October 29 and is 46K words long, by far the longest yet in the series. As with the other books in the series, you can easily read it as a standalone. But if you’ve read the other books, you’ll get brief visits from a few familiar characters.
I had a wonderful time writing this book, and I hope you enjoy it too!
J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer sci fi book out, the final book in his Liminal Sky trilogy: “The Shoreless Sea.” And books one and two are on sale!
As the epic trilogy hurtles toward its conclusion, the fight for the future isn’t over yet. It could lead to a new beginning, or it might spell the end for the last vestiges of humankind.
The generation ship Forever has left Earth behind, but a piece of the old civilization lives on in the Inthworld—a virtual realm that retains memories of Earth’s technological wonders and vices. A being named Lilith leads the uprising, and if she succeeds in setting its inhabitants free, they could destroy Forever.
But during the generation ship’s decades-long voyage, humanity has evolved. Liminals with the ability to connect with the world mind and the Inthworld provide a glimmer of hope. They’ll have to face not only Lilith’s minions, but also the mistrust of their own kind and persecution from a new government as homotypicals continue to fear what they can’t understand.
The invasion must be stopped, the Inthworld must be healed, and the people of Forever must let go of their past and embrace what they’re meant to become.
Series Blurb:
Humankind is on its way to the stars, a journey that will change it forever. Each of the stories in Liminal Sky explores that future through the lens of a generation ship, where the line between science fiction and fantasy often blurs. At times both pessimistic and very hopeful, Liminal Sky thrusts you into a future few would ever have imagined.
Scott is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour, along with three eBook sets of his Oberon Cycle trilogy. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:
Kiryn Hammond-Clarke floated in the darkness of space, stars he’d never seen in person twinkling against the velvety black depths.
The voice came to him from out of nowhere. “Can anyone hear me?”
In his dreams, he could hear. Like when Belynn let him ride in her mind.
The voice repeated, sounding stretched and thin. “Is anyone out there?”
In the distance, a single star glowed brighter than all the others, though it was still just a small golden dot.
Kiryn reached out toward the light, his hand naked to the cold of the void.
Ice crystals formed on his arm, hardening it in place. The cold reached into his bones like knives of frozen glass. It raced up his bicep, the burning cold fire of the void.
He snatched back his arm, but he was too late. The freezing grip reached his heart, and he screamed silently—
Kiryn awoke with a start, sitting up in bed in his dorm room drenched with sweat. He ran his hands through his dark hair, letting them come to rest clasped behind his head.
First Light flashed past in the trees outside his window, brightening up the room.
The world was utterly silent.
The silence, his constant companion since birth, was particularly soothing after his rude awakening. It wrapped itself around him like a blanket, a suit of armor, a barrier between him and the hustle and bustle of the outside world.
Between him and emotion.
He held his arm out for inspection, half expecting it to be blackened by the void. Instead, it looked perfectly normal. Warm and tan, halfway between his mothers’ sepia and white skin tones.
He shivered at the memory.
The bed moved under him, and his date from the night before sat up, his mouth moving soundlessly.
The man was handsome, a Thyrean sent to the university at Micavery for his higher schooling—long limbs, blond hair shaved short, warm brown eyes.
His name was Dax. Or Zack. Or something.
Kiryn’s lipreading was decent, but he hadn’t bothered to spend too much time learning this one’s name. Dax or Zack hadn’t seemed to mind much.
Kiryn pointed at his ear and shook his head.
The man’s mouth closed, and he blushed. “Sorry. I forgot.”
That one was easy enough to read.
He grabbed the piece of cotton paper and a pencil Kiryn kept at his bedside just for that purpose and scribbled something out longhand, then handed it over to him.
It’s Dax. And are you okay?
Kiryn stared at him. Did you just read my mind? Maybe there was a little Liminal in him. He laughed, wondering not for the first time what it sounded like from the outside. It felt clunky and awkward on the inside.
He sighed and took the paper and pencil.
Dax’s hand lingered over his for an extra second before letting go.
Bad dream. Class in fifteen minutes. He hesitated, then scribbled, Dinner?
Dax took the paper, and a grin lit up his face. His eager nod needed no translation. I work at the hatchery until six. Meet me there?
Kiryn nodded and grinned.
Dax slipped out of bed and pulled on his trousers and white shirt, the V-neck showing off his chest to perfection.
Kiryn sat back with his hands behind his head, admiring the view.
He leaned over, kissed Kiryn on the cheek, and mouthed, “See you.”
When Dax left, Kiryn grabbed a change of clothes and headed down the hall to the dorm bathroom. He hopped into the shower, using the aromatic red berry soap bar his mom and mamma had sent him from the Estate. The smell transported him, and he closed his eyes and imagined himself standing among the long, even rows of red berry vines that arched across the hillsides.
His parents worried about him, out here alone, but it was Andy who had insisted he go.
When Kiryn had been born congenitally and profoundly deaf, Andy and Shandra had learned sign language from the world mind in vee.
There were so few other deaf people in Forever. So few like him.
The day before he was set to leave for university, to catch the public wagon headed for Darlith and then Micavery, he’d had a huge panic attack.
His parents had sat him down along with his sister, Belynn:
“I’m scared. Why do I have to go away?” He was fidgeting, nervous.
“You have to go. There’s nothing here for you.” Andy indicated the Estate, where the family had built a thriving agricultural business on the backs of Trip’s and Colin’s earlier work.
“You’re here.” His hands signed it while his knee bounced up and down.
Andy shook her head. “This is our place. You need to go.”
He flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was such a burden.”
“No.” That was emphatic. “That’s not what I meant. We don’t want you to get trapped here, working on the Estate for the rest of your life. There’s a whole world out there for you to explore.” She looked up at Shandra, who nodded.
“I’ll go with him,” Belynn said and signed it at the same time, but he could hear her inside his head too.
Mom could do that, too, of course, but she had to touch him to do it.
“You’re not ready.” Shandra glared at Belynn and shook her head.
“I’ve been with Kiryn in every vee class since I was born. I’m only two years younger than he is. Let me go with him to help.”
Kiryn frowned. He wasn’t sure he wanted his little sister tagging along after him, cramping his style. If he decided to go.
Belynn’s hand found his, palm to palm, and he could feel her emotions. We can take care of each other. That thought was private, just for him, inside his head.
Maybe so.
Andy looked at Shandra. “They could take care of each other.” She echoed Belynn’s thought and touched Shandra’s hand. Something passed between them.
Shandra looked at him and then at Belynn, uncertainty clear on her face. “We could… try it.”
Belynn squeezed his hand. “Yes!”
“For a semester.” Andy kissed Shandra on the forehead.
Kiryn thought about it. It would be nice to have someone close by, just in case. Someone who really knew him. “Okay.” And it would be a lot less scary.
Now he was here, and Belynn wouldn’t be far behind.
Where are you, big brother? Belynn’s insistent voice.
I’ll be back in a minute. He pulled the towel from its wooden peg, dried off his hair and shoulders.
A couple of the other guys in the dorm, Stave and Trevor, waved on their way to their own showers. Cute as hell, but straighter than the old antenna on Micavery’s village green. Well, except when Stave got drunk on red berry wine….
Kiryn grinned. He pulled on his trousers and shirt and padded back to his room. Belynn was waiting for him on his bed. “How did you get in?” he signed.
They touched palms, the emotions flowing between them and synching.
“Easy. Aric at the front desk is a sucker for a pretty girl.”
“Like I said, how did you get in?”
She stuck out her tongue at him. “Come on. We’re going to be late.” She tugged him off the bed, and Kiryn barely had time to grab his carry sack before she had him out the door and down the hall.
Author Bio
Scott lives between the here and now and the what could be. Indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine, he devoured her library. But as he grew up, he wondered where the people like him were.
He decided it was time to create the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at Waldenbooks. If there weren’t gay characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
His friends say Scott’s brain works a little differently – he sees relationships between things that others miss, and gets more done in a day than most folks manage in a week. He seeks to transform traditional sci fi, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something unexpected.
A Rainbow Award winning author and Science Fiction Writer’s Association (SFWA) member, he runs Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark, sites that bring queer people together to promote and celebrate fiction reflecitng their own reality.
As many of you know, I donate the royalties from my self-published books to Doctors Without Borders. You get a story, DWB gets a donation. Win/win!
I have two new self-published books on the way. And here’s the cover reveal for one of them!
Christmas Present
A modern gay-romance twist on Dickens.
Lewis loves his holiday job. As the Ghost of Christmas Present, he guides people to improve their lives. Sure, he’s a little lonely at home in Minnesota, but Fezziwig the cat keeps him company.
When Lewis is spirited to California one Christmas Eve, he meets Sammy, an ex-lawyer who seems to already have his life in order. Lewis and Sammy share Korean fried chicken and a brief fling, but distance and career obligations appear destined to thwart anything permanent.
Maybe this year, Lewis is due for a special gift of his own.
First off, thank you very much to Kim for hosting me today! I really appreciate her time.
Today, I’d like to discuss music. I have one of those scarily varied musical tastes. My Spotify playlists aren’t too bad (yet) but they’re getting there. I still have a few genres to throw in to make it really weird. 😉
Every story has a playlist. Most have something to do with the theme. Sometimes the songs are specific to one character. Often they’re just thematic in general to the world. My puppies are a good example of that. I have a section that’s dedicated only to my puppies. It’s a weird list (like most of my playlists are), but they all make me think of my puppies. I think my favorite is Imagine Dragons, Demons. I know that’s not what he intended when he wrote it, but it still works for me.
Miguel and Luis are both from families who hail from Mexico. Both are fluent (still) in Spanish and Luis was raised in an exclusively Spanish-speaking household. As such, both boys listen to Spanish music a lot. In Forgiveness, Ben also listens to Spanish music, though his is a little more varied than the boys in Hope were. My favorite in Forgiveness works just as well as my favorite in Hope: Ricky Martin’s Frío.
As a short story, I had a shorter playlist than the rest, but I still loved getting lost in the music. I tend to play it pretty much constantly when I’m writing a particular story. Whether I’m doing stuff that’s more the business side of writing or house things or driving or sometimes even playing my games, the music is often running. I might be a wee bit overboard with it.
You can find the full Hope playlists here: YouTube and Spotify. Please note the Youtube and Spotify playlists are slightly different due to music availability, so check out both!
Thanks again to Kim for the time today! I hope you enjoy the music.
* * *
Hope, part of the Forbes Mates series
Length: 13,000 words
Genre: m/m paranormal shifters
Miguel Garcia and Luis Rodriguez have been best friends all their lives. For the last year, they’ve been hiding the fact that they’re also destined mates. When Luis’s family finds out, they kick him out. Miguel’s family would keep them… except their alpha has been known to be downright violent against gay wolves.
With the help of Miguel’s mother, they set out to find a pack that will accept them. They run into more that a few obstacles before they end up in Denver, at the national wolf headquarters, meeting the alpha prime. They’re stunned to find, not only offers to join more than one pack, but that their struggle can shine light on a bigger problem–and make things better for LGBT wolves across the country.
Hope is available on September 6, 2019 exclusively at Amazon and on Kindle Unlimited.
There is also a giveaway for this release. Details are below.
And check out the upcoming blog tour appearances below!
About Grace:
Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.
A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.
As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.
Thanks, Kim, for letting me stop by and talk about The First Step, the first book in my new Coastal Carolina series! Please be sure to read to the bottom for an exclusive excerpt from the book.
While series books take place in coast North and South Carolina, this first book takes place in one of my favorite coastal cities: Wilmington, North Carolina. All of the books feature men you might find working at the coast, and it’s safe to say that the Atlantic Ocean is a bit like a main character. The First Step features an ocean pilot—Justin Vance—one of the men and women who jump from a small pilot boat onto a huge cargo ship in the middle of the ocean, then navigate those vessels in and out of ports all over the world. It’s a dangerous job, and one that requires a lot of training and a long apprenticeship.
Bob and I have watched these huge ships pull into port and I’d often wondered about the men and women who steer them safely into the harbor. I had a blast talking to some real-life pilots about their work, and I had so much fun writing Justin and Reed’s story. I hope you enjoy it too. Happy reading! –Shira
Blurb:
A Coastal Carolina Novel
The first step is the hardest. After a scandal, New York political reporter Reed Barfield is lying low at the North Carolina coast, writing a story about the seafood industry. But it’s the harbor pilots on the Cape Fear River who capture his interest—men who jump across ten feet of open ocean to grab a rope ladder and guide huge container ships into port. Men like sexy but prickly Justin Vance.
After surviving an abusive childhood and a tour in the Navy, Justin isn’t fazed by his dangerous job—it’s certainly easier to face than Reed’s annoying questions. Justin isn’t out at work, and he doesn’t need Reed digging into his personal life or his past.
But Reed’s no stranger to using his considerable charm to get what he wants, and as he wears Justin down, they realize they have a lot in common—and that they like spending time together. Moving beyond that, though, will mean Justin confessing his sexuality and learning to trust Reed with his secrets—if Reed even decides to stay. Both men want a future together, but can they find the courage to take the first step?
Once sure he wasn’t going to end up in the water, Reed followed the wake back to its origin.
Holy shit! An immense black wall the size of a thirty-story building and as wide as several city blocks obstructed his view of the rest of the Cape Fear River. As he clambered back inside the boat, Reed realized it wasn’t a wall at all but the side of an enormous container ship. It was almost close enough to reach out and touch and getting closer by the minute.
“Hang on!” Eddie, the captain who’d agreed to take Reed out on the water, pulled the cord on the engine.
Nothing happened.
“Damn!” Eddie kept pulling on the cord. The motor would rumble, then putter and stop.
The container ship’s horn had Reed covering his ears and wondering if his luck could get any worse. “Eddie, that thing’s going to be here in a minute,” he shouted over the roar of the larger ship’s engines. “We need to get out of here!”
“I’m tryin’, I’m tryin’! Sweet mother of—”
The motor finally turned over. Eddie revved the engine and the next second their boat careened to the right and out of the larger vessel’s path, avoiding it by only a few feet.
Reed’s heart pounded against his ribs as they headed up river back toward Wilmington. “What the hell was that all about?”
“I tried to warn ya.” Eddie’s face was pale. “Ya didn’t seem to hear me.”
“I didn’t? Wait a minute. You tried to warn me? When was that?”
Eddie glanced briefly away. “A few seconds before,” he said under his breath.
“A few seconds? You mean you didn’t see that thing coming either?”
“Well, I… I might’ve fell asleep,” Eddie replied sheepishly.
“Don’t you have a radio for that sort of thing?” Reed didn’t know a lot about power boats, but he was pretty sure you didn’t go anywhere on a river like this without a radio.
“I do. But I must’a forgot to charge it.”
Your fault for trying to cut corners and hiring someone off the docks. Reed sighed and eyed the container ship, which now appeared to be turning slowly—very slowly—with the help of a couple of tugboats.
“What’s he doing?” Reed asked.
“Him? Oh, you mean the ship?”
Reed nodded.
“They turn her around before they dock. That way she’s all set for leavin’ when they’re done unloadin’ and loadin’ it up again.”
“Impressive.”
“Them river pilots can turn those babies on a dime,” Eddie agreed. “Takes ’em years to be able to do that.”
“Really?”
“Yep. They get paid a bundle too.”
“You mean captains get paid a lot?” Reed asked.
“No. The river pilots do.”
“What’s the difference between a river pilot and the captain of a ship?”
“Pilots take over for the captains. Meet ’em out at sea and guide ’em into port. They’re local guys. Most of ’em live over in Southport.” Eddie smiled. “I used to dream of bein’ one. You know, meetin’ the big ships out in the ocean and hoppin’ onto one of those?”
Reed shuddered to imagine a guy like Eddie, who fell asleep at the wheel, in charge of a container ship. But already the idea for a story was percolating in his brain. Pilots hopped from one boat to another in the middle of the ocean? “Sounds dangerous.”
Eddie nodded. “Really dangerous. One of ’em fell a few months back.”
“Fell?”
“Yep. Got hurt real bad.” Eddie pressed his lips together. “Sounds like he’ll pull through, though.”
“That’s good.” Reed watched for a couple of minutes, then remembered he had his camera hanging around his neck and took some photos as the container ship docked. He zoomed in on the ship’s name: Vanguard Asiatic.
“You gonna need more photos of the shrimper?” Eddie asked.
Crap. Reed had completely forgotten the reason he was on the water in the first place—he was supposed to be taking photos of the shrimp boat. This was about getting his old job back, not about his appetite for a good story. He was so close to wrapping this up and hopping that plane back to New York City.
He turned off the camera, thankful he’d had the presence of mind to buy a waterproof case for it, and flipped through the pics he’d taken before the near miss with the Vanguard Asiatic. Fortunately they looked okay. Good thing too, since he’d had a hard enough time getting the shrimp boat’s captain to pose with her on the river.
“Nah. I’m good. I got enough for the story.”
“We good to head back to town?” Eddie asked.
“Yes…. No. On second thought—” Reed eyed the Port of Wilmington across the water. The voice at the back of his brain was now screaming that there was a story here. “Why don’t you drop me off over there?”
“At the port?” Eddie stared at him as though he’d lost his mind.
“Yes. At the port.” He’d ask a few questions, maybe take a few photos, and the voice might shut up for a change.
“I can’t tie up there,” Eddie said.
“Why not?”
“It’s restricted.” He pointed to some signs on the docks.
“No need to tie up,” Reed said brightly. “All you need to do is drop me off.”
“I don’t know….”
“I’ll give you an extra fifty for your trouble.” Reed reached into his pocket and pulled out his slightly damp billfold, then handed Eddie a hundred-dollar bill. He’d pay the extra fifty out of his own money. If he played this right, he’d end up with another story out of it.
“If I get caught, they could fine me.”
Reed put another twenty in Eddie’s hand. “That help?”
Eddie nodded and pointed to a spot a few hundred feet behind the container ship. “Okay if I drop you off there?”
“That’ll be perfect.”
Ten minutes later Reed watched as Eddie zoomed off toward Wilmington. He pulled on the damp fabric of his shirt and shook it a little to stop it from sticking to his skin. In the bright sunlight, with the temperature in the midnineties, his shorts were nearly dry. His leather boat shoes would take a little longer, but at least they didn’t squish when he walked.
Reed fished his press ID out of his pocket and clipped it on his shirt. He rarely used it, but it would come in handy in a place where everyone seemed to be wearing a hangtag. In his experience, no one actually checked IDs so long as you were wearing something that looked like one. He walked down the docks to where they were tying up the Vanguard Asiatic.
The entire docking process seemed painstakingly slow. From the time the tugs pulled alongside to when the crew finally tossed ropes to the dockworkers, hours seemed to pass. Reed watched in fascination as port workers in small forklifts picked up the huge balls at the ends of the guide ropes and pulled the massive lines that would hold the ship in place taut over wide iron posts resembling enormous black mushrooms.
Reed snapped some photos, then sat on a stack of pallets to scribble a few notes. He’d just put his notebook away when a man stepped onto the docks and waved to several of the workers. Dressed in khakis with a button-down shirt and tie, he slung a small backpack over one shoulder and headed away from the ship. Reed jogged over to intercept him.
“Excuse me,” Reed said as he caught up with the man. This close, it was difficult not to notice his warm blue eyes, dirty blond hair, and muscular body.
“Yes?”
“Reed Barfield.” Reed offered his hand, and the man shook it.
“Justin Vance.” Justin raised a questioning eyebrow. He looked to be in a hurry. “Can I help you with something?”
“I hope so.” Reed smiled, and Justin’s expression softened just a bit. “Did you just come in on that ship?” He gestured to the Vanguard Asiatic.
“Yes. Why?”
Man of few words. “I’m working on a story about the port,” Reed offered. This wasn’t true, of course—the story he was supposed to be working on was about the seafood industry and the effects of years of dumping of toxic chemicals into the river—but it could be true, right?
“Oh?”
Reed smiled again. “I don’t know much about boats, so I figured I’d go to the source.” In his experience, playing dumb and asking for help usually resulted in people opening up and telling him everything they knew. It was human nature to feel good about knowing more than someone else, not to mention people enjoyed being helpful.
Not Justin. “Okay. And?”
Reed’s cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling, and it clearly had no effect on the guy. “And I was hoping to find someone who could tell me about the Vanguard.” As attractive as Justin was, he wasn’t a conversationalist. Reed needed to find someone else to speak with.
“What about her?” Justin asked.
“She’s pretty big, right?” Oh, that was just brilliant!
Justin didn’t seem to mind the lame question. “She’s one of the larger ships around.”
“Really?”
Justin nodded.
Pulling teeth would be easier. “Hey, do you know the pilot who brought her in?”
“Why?”
“I figured I’d talk to them. Find out a little about what it’s like to sail her into port. Maybe get a few sailing pointers?” Reed meant this last bit as a stupid, icebreaker kind of joke, but Justin wasn’t thawing. Instead, he seemed to consider Reed for a moment as though trying to decide whether to walk away. Then finally he said, “I’m the pilot.”
“What?” That was the last thing Reed expected. Pilots were super experienced mariners, right? This guy looked to be in his midthirties. With broad shoulders and a lean, muscular body, Justin looked more like what Reed imagined might be typical for a longshoreman.
“Were you expecting Blackbeard? Or maybe Captain Kirk?”
Reed laughed. So there is a personality hiding beneath the cone of silence. “Do you get that a lot?”
Justin shrugged.
“So what’s it like, sailing a boat like that into port?” Reed pressed.
“Why are you here again?” Justin frowned as he took in Reed’s hangtag and camera. “Did you get permission from someone in the operations office to be on the docks?”
“No.” Reed decided on a little honestly. “Really, I was on the water shooting some photos for a story when I looked up and there she was. Pretty damn impressive fifty feet way. And I had this idea—”
“Wait a minute.” Justin’s expression morphed from mild irritation to open hostility. “Are you the idiot we nearly rammed coming into port?”
Justin grabbed him by the collar and shook him, his face red with fury. “Do you know how lucky you are you weren’t killed? If I hadn’t figured you were too stupid to respond to my hail and get the hell out of the way, you and your boat would have been toast.”
Reed tried to pull Justin’s hands away, without much luck. The guy was as strong as he looked. “Whoa. Justin. Calm down.”
Justin seemed to realize he’d lost control, because he released Reed and stepped back. His cheeks were still red, but the murderous expression was gone.
“Look,” Reed said as he smoothed the fabric of his shirt. “I’m really sorry about what happened. When I get into the zone—you know, working on a story—I can get a little distracted.”
A muscle in Justin’s cheek jumped as he waved to someone over Reed’s shoulder and gestured for them to come over.
“Fred, meet Reed Barfield. Mr. Barfield is trespassing.” Justin smiled and turned back to Reed. “Reed, this is Fred Fuller. He’s the man who’s going to escort you off the premises.”
“Seriously, Justin. Just let me ask you a few questions. After that, I promise I’ll leave.” Justin was good-looking—he would make this pilot story easier to sell to Reed’s editor. One more reason for the higher-ups to give him back his job on the political beat.
“Now, Mr. Barfield,” Fred put in, “it’s my job to make sure nobody’s here that ain’t supposed to be here. If ya don’t come with me, I’ll have to call the police.”
Reed sighed. “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.” The last thing he needed was a run-in with the local cops, especially since he’d looked a New York judge in the eye not two weeks before and promised to stay out of trouble. He’d figure out some other way to get what he needed for the pilot story. “See you again soon,” he shouted over his shoulder as Fred escorted him through the locked gate to the parking area.
Author bio:
Shira Anthony was a professional opera singer in her last incarnation, performing roles in such operas as Tosca, i Pagliacci, and La Traviata, among others. She’s given up TV for evenings spent with her laptop, and she never goes anywhere without a pile of unread M/M romance on her Kindle. You can hear Shira singing “Vissi d’arte” from Puccini’s Tosca by clicking here: Shira’sSinging
Shira loves a great happily-ever-after and never writes a story without one. She’s happy to write what her muse tells her, whether it’s fantasy, sci fi, paranormal, or contemporary romance. She particularly loves writing series, because she thinks of her characters as old friends and she wants to visit them even after their stories are told.
In real life, Shira sang professionally for 14 years, and she currently works as a public sector attorney advocating for children. She’s happy to have made writing her second full-time job, even if it means she rarely has time to watch TV or go to the movies. Shira writes about the things she knows and loves, whether it’s music and musicians, the ocean, or the places she’s lived or traveled to. She spent her middle school years living in France, and tries to visit as often as she can.
Shira and her husband spend as many weekends as they can aboard their 38′ catamaran sailboat, Prelude, at the Carolina Coast. Not only has sailing inspired her to write about pirates and mermen, her sailboat is her favorite place to write. And although the only mermen she’s found to date are in her own imagination, she keeps a sharp lookout for them when she’s on the water.
I haven’t blogged in some time. It’s not that I don’t love you, I promise. It’s only that life seems to be swirling even more chaotically than usual. The good news is that I have all sorts of new books on the way!
In case you missed it, last week I released a volume containing four short stories. Three of these stories originally appeared in anthologies that are now out of print; all of the stories are sweet and sort of fluffy. You can buy Act One and Other Stories at Amazon, Smashwords, or anywhere else ebooks are sold. And all royalties go to Doctors Without Borders!
My next novel, Drawing the Prince, releases October 1! Publishers Weekly called it an “enchanting royal affair.” You can preorder now at Amazon or Dreamspinner. It’s book 3 in the Stars from Peril series, but like the others, it can be read as a standalone.
And next? In November expect to see Convicted, the 5th Bureau book. You’ll also see a holiday short called “Christmas Present.” December brings “Get Lit,” another holiday short. And on January 14, Love Has No Direction will release. That’s the third Love Can’t book, and it’s Parker Levin’s story.
If you enjoy following my travels, I have more of those coming up: gold rush country, Seattle, San Francisco, and New Orleans are all in store during the remainder of 2019.
Ah, but the homefront. Where the semester is in full swing, my dishwasher is broken, my car has a burned-out headlight, and my kid just had her umpteenth monthly trip to the orthodontist.
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