Today launches the blog tour for Hallelujah. I’m so excited about this book–which releases March 31–and the early reviews are fantastic. Please join us on our tour for exclusive posts, reviews, an excerpt, and a giveaway! I’ll update the links as we go.
Hope you get back to chasing mice around soon…. Chad & Jamie.
Quincy pulled out a furry rat and held it up, then a bag of catnip, one of those feathers on a string, and even a ball of yarn. It took Quincy a full minute to stop laughing. “Oh gods, I’m so getting them for this.”
Miles, grinning, took the feather on the string, lifted it in front of Quincy, and shook it. Quincy snorted but batted at it anyway, making Miles laugh. As Miles pulled it away, though, Quincy batted again, chasing after it a little, nose twitching. Eyebrows raised, Miles fought the smirk.
Quincy sniffed. “I was just humoring you.”
His smirk broke out into another grin. “Uh-huh.”
Miles laughed and kissed Quincy’s temple. “Do you know that if we let ourselves go too long without shifting outside of the full moon, we start acting a bit like dogs… even while in human form?”
“You’re kidding,” Quincy said, staring. “Oh, the blackmail I’ll have on Chad….”
“Not kidding at all.” Miles coughed, then said, “I once chewed my own slippers right before my board exam,” as all one word.
Quincy snorted, then started laughing again. “Oh, that’s too much! I’m going to have to remember that. Make sure I hide my slippers.”
Miles grinned, because it showed Quincy planned to be with him, at least at some point in the future. He started to speak again, but the door opened and Sara walked in.
“Time for your vitals,” she said brightly.
Quincy rolled his eyes but sat still and patient as she took his blood pressure, temperature, oxygen level, and pulse. She wrote everything down on a little piece of paper, then stuffed it back in her pocket. “Can I get you anything? Are you ready to order your dinner?” She glanced over and saw the Styrofoam container. “Dr. Grant! Are you smuggling him contraband?”
Miles smirked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sara! That was for me.”
She snickered. “Right.” She turned back to Quincy. “Something to drink?”
Quincy shook his head and pointed to the pitcher on the counter, still with water in it. “That’s fine with me.”
“All right, dear. Get some rest.” She patted his foot and left.
“I wonder what she’d say if she knew just how much more healed I was,” Quincy mused.
Miles laughed. “I’d probably be admitting her to Western Psych across the street.”
Quincy grinned. “That wouldn’t be nice, then, would it?”
Miles shook his head. “Nope. Oh!” He hurried around the bed and picked up the messenger bag on the floor. One side had a logo Miles had never seen along with a graphic of a guy with bright orange hair in a black robe with a huge sword resting on his shoulder. He lifted the bag and set it on the bed next to Quincy. “Apparently this got left in the ambulance. I… hope you don’t mind, I checked inside. Your laptop, phone, and wallet are still in there.”
“Oh good.” Quincy opened the bag and pulled out a case. He took out a pair of glasses and slipped them onto his nose. “So much better.” Next he took out a slim Mac laptop, then his wallet, and blinked. “My money’s still in here.”
Miles shrugged. “Guess they didn’t need it.”
“Well. That’s a surprise.”
“I don’t know if they’d get into the computer or phone or anything. I’m guessing you’ve got it locked down fairly well.”
Quincy nodded. “Yeah, and the data’s encrypted too. No one’s going to get to my stuff.”
Miles raised an eyebrow. “What do you do, anyway?”
Miles blinked. “I’m sure you do. But what do you do that requires encrypted data?”
Quincy’s lips twitched. “I’m an information broker. The kind you can’t look up in the phone directory.”
“Ohhhh.” Miles nodded. “Well, that makes sense. I’m guessing I don’t really want to know anymore.”
Quincy shook his head. “No, you probably don’t. Um….” Quincy tilted his head and studied Miles for a moment. “Do you think I could see your wolf?”
“Hmm….” Miles raised his eyebrows as he thought it through, but then nodded. “They won’t be in for a bit. I think there’s time.” He kicked off his shoes, pulling his shirt off at that same time and laying it on the bed. It never even occurred to him to worry about getting naked in front of Quincy. He was used to the very sociable wolves, not the solitary jaguars. So when he turned around from taking his pants off, he realized what he smelled was arousal. It did his wolf good things to smell that, but he focused instead on giving Quincy what he’d asked for. Miles laid his pants next to his shirt and let his wolf forward.
His vision turned gray first, and then his claws extended and teeth dropped at the same time. A few seconds later, red fur that matched his human hair erupted over his skin. His bones shifted and muscles realigned, then a moment later, he landed on four paws. He lifted his front paws and braced them on the side of the bed, grinning his wolf grin at his mate.
Quincy reached out, running a hand over Miles’s head. “Wow. I didn’t realize your fur matched your coloring. It doesn’t work that way for us. It’s gorgeous.”
Miles couldn’t resist closing his eyes as Quincy stroked his fur. He had to be careful or he’d end up with a hard-on in wolf form. But it felt so good to have Quincy’s hands on him, even in that form. To keep things out of the realm of sexual, he leaned forward and licked Quincy’s cheek.
Quincy scowled, but there was no heat in it. “Gross. Dog slobber.”
Miles snorted. And licked him again.
“Just you wait. Next time I’m in cat form, I’ll give you my tongue.”
Miles chuffed, then backed up to let himself down.
Before he could rein in his wolf and shift, Sara stepped into the room again.
Join us in celebrating the rerelease of the Forbes Mates books! The celebration tour has a $25 Amazon Gift Card giveaway and lots of fun excerpts from the books. Devotion is also on sale for 99¢ for the whole tour, so you can get started on the series!
Finding his mate is the least of Quincy’s worries–keeping Miles alive is the real priority…and will take every ounce of creativity Quincy has.
Dr. Miles Grant acknowledges that his destined mate could be either gender even though his bisexuality cost him his family and his pack. Luckily he found the Forbes Pack, who happily accept him just as he is. What he never counted on was finding his mate in Pittsburgh or for his mate to be another species entirely—a cat!
Quincy Archer isn’t just any jaguar shifter. He is the heir to the leadership of his pride. Destined mates are nothing but legend to the nearly extinct and generally solitary jaguars, and Quincy certainly never expected to find one for himself, much less a male… or a wolf.
However, finding each other and coming to terms with their species is the least of their worries. Quincy is expected to select a proper female mate, father a cub, and take his place as heir to the pride. Except Quincy refuses, having no interest in women or leadership and knowing he isn’t right for it. But his father will stop at nothing—not even attempting to kill Miles—to get his way. Quincy and Miles must overcome many obstacles to stay together as the destined mates they’re meant to be.
The rights have reverted to me for the five novellas that originally appeared in the (wonderful) Gothika anthologies. I’ll be releasing the stories individually, so now’s your chance if you haven’t yet read them.
First up is Transformation. Preorder now; releases February 25.
If you squint hard enough, this story is a pre-pre-pre-prequel to the Bones series. The working title was The Werewolf of Beaverton (which I find hysterically funny, but probably nobody else does).
Orris Spencer is an abomination. At least that was what his father said in 1886 before banishing him from their Fifth Avenue mansion and sending him across the continent to Oregon. Now Orris must try to find a place for himself on his brother’s farm. His studies did little to prepare him for pioneer living, and when he’s called on to help protect the livestock from a predator, he’s not at all certain he’s up to the task. Then he meets Henry Bonn, a strange and intriguing man who lives in a cabin in the hills. Orris’s attraction to Henry may not be an abomination—but it may prove to be a greater danger than banishment.
Joseph Moore, choir director for the First Baptist Church of Lenora, Nebraska, has secrets of his own. Terrible, lonely secrets. One that involves natural human desire. One that calls forth powers he cannot begin to understand. Both with the potential to destroy him and those he loves.
Now the world is changing. The darkness, the shadows, the ghosts, are closing in—and Joseph and his lover, Kevin, are being stalked by a merciless demon, hell-bent on possession.
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.
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.
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!
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.