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I have been tagged for the Sunshine Awards, something set up by Shehanne Moor, author of historical romance, to celebrate summer and pass the joy around. The tag was passed onto me by Catharine Cavendish, author of very scary stuff. Thanks both!

Now it’s my job to answer eight questions and nominate another 8 people

1. Favourite song with summer in the title or the words (give the words)

My favourite song about warmth and pleasure in simplicity is Chelsea Morning:

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I knew
There was milk and toast and honey and a bowl of oranges, too
And the sun poured in like butterscotch and stuck to all my senses
Oh, won’t you stay
We’ll put on the day
And we’ll talk in present tenses

But it doesn’t have the word ‘summer’ in it so I’ll have to go with “In the Summertime” by Mungojerry.

2. Favourite book about summer

I don’t think I’ve ever read a book about summer but I’ve read plenty of books where interesting things happen during the summer. One of the ones I’ve enjoyed most was “Shining in the Sun” by Alex Beecroft, where over the course of the summer, by saying ‘yes’ to things he shouldn’t say ‘yes’ to, the protagonist gains the courage to say ‘no’ to his families plans for him. Set in sun-drenched Cornwall, there are surfer boys, open topped cars, a trip to Britanny and some angst.

3. Favourite hot summer film

I haven’t got one. Most of the fiilms I enoy have things exploding in them and that can happen at any time of year.

4. Favourite summer memory

Laying out on the boundary with a bottle of cider and a book and listening to the village cricket team get pasted by the team from the next village. Our lads played with immense and random enthusiasm!

5. Favourite summer holiday destination

I dunno. It’s been a few years. I liked France – the Avreyon gorge, all those fabulous castles and medieval town centres! – and when I was a kid it was always the Isle of Wight, but usually it’s Pembrokeshire, which is very like Cornwall only quieter.

6. What books will be in your suitcase this summer?

Probably none, but only because I’m not planning on going anywhere apart from Manchester to the UK Meet for LGBT readers/writers/publishers/artists on Friday. I have a slew of books to read. On my ereader I have Locking Horns by Kay Berrisford, A Place to Call Their Own by Dean Pace-Frech, Damned If You Don’t by J L Merrow, Blooming Marvellous by Jo Myles, Directing Traffic by Charley Descoteaux and The Company man by Becky Black and on the bookshelf there’s the 1951 National Service Infantryman’s Handbook, a book about double agents in WW2, a book about handling heavy horses, and Heroes by Joe Abercrombie. I would REALLY like to write like Joe Abercrombie, only with heroes with a tinge of lavender.

7. What’s your likely destination this summer?

Work – home – work – home – work – home. that’s okay because I find holidays very stressful. It would be brilliant if the rest of the family went on holiday though.

8. What hottie would you most like to be sharing the hot days and long nights with this summer?

This summer I would really like to finish The Fierce Reaping, which means I’d be spending time with Cynfal, who is strong and blond and still has most of his own teeth, and Gwion, who is dark and fraught and damaged and prone to going berserk out of fright. I’m not sure either would class as a traditional hottie but I’ll have a good deal of fun with them.

Oh go on then. Hugh Jackman, because he looks as though he has a sense of humour and he could help the Other Half demolish stuff.

And now I have to pick another eight people:

Charley Descoteaux, Thianna, CC Williams, Eden Summers, Daniel DeLoite, Ben Thomas [but only when he’s finished his novel, next week will do] aaaaand – I’ll think of another two later. It’s too hot and I’m too tired right now.

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We have a winner.

 

Via the wonders of modern technology – bits of paper screwed up in a hat – I have picked the winner from the kind people who commented to my bit of the Equal Rights Blog Hop.

Sherry – the gift card should be with you right about now. Congratulations and I hope you really enjoy the books you buy with it.

In other news it is Wilfred’s first birthday today. He used to look like this:

Now I can’t pick him up at all and he takes up the whole sofa. But his fur is still soft, his mouth is still gentle and his ears still smell of biscuits. And I still love him to bits.

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comfy chair

My guest today is Vicktor Alexander, an author perhaps best known for his best selling series of books about The Tate Pack – wolf-shifters located on a ranch in Texas – but with many other strings to his bow.

Welcome Vicktor and thank you for agreeing to answer my questions.

Welcome, readers, and keep your eyes open for a question you can answer in comments to go into a draw for a copy of Vicktor’s most recent release, Impossible.

~~~

Elin: Can you tell me a little about yourself? For instance, do you have to have a day job as well as being a writer?

Vicktor: Hhmm now that is a loaded question. LOL. During the school year I am a student but I also own half of a publishing company The Rooster & The Pig Publishing (Now accepting submissions!) I am also at the point where I am drafting up a business proposal/plan for another business: a nightclub called Triune. I am also drafting proposals for three non-profits: a group home for at-risk teens, a housing program for low income families, and a charity organization for third world countries. So when I’m not writing I have plenty to keep me occupied.

(more…)

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Image borrowed from Ehow.com

It’s so nice to finally have a working keyboard again. My typing is erratic enough but to try and communicate with no N, H or F made posting anything such a chore I really didn’t have the heart to bother.  Time, I think, for an update.

I’m taking part in the Equal Rights Blog Hop hosted by Queer Town Abbey, which will be running until Sunday 7th. You can find my post here and the main blog hop list here. Comment to my post and you might win a $10 GC. Don’t forget to add your email address because then it will be put in the draw for one of the super prizes from the hop organisers. Look at the list of authors! I feel privileged to be in such company. Also a big thank you to Tara Lain and Michael Joseph, both of who reminded me that I had signed up. Between the keyboard issues and my creative filing of my diary down the back of the sofa, it had completely slipped my mind.

I have a guest today – Dean Pace-Frech whose very first novel, a historical set just after the American Civil War is released today from Musa Publishing. The post is here and I’m hoping that he’ll be a Comfy Chair guest sometime next week.

The Comfy Chair will be in use before then – Vicktor Alexander, author of the Tate Pack series of novels and novellas, will be answering my questions and sharing not one but two excerpts here tomorrow AND he’s doing a giveaway so don’t forget to check back.

Tomorrow I’ll be doing my weekly Seductive Studs and Sirens post with a recommendation from someone’s back catalogue. I haven’t picked which book – I often don’t until I sit down to type the post up so that will be a surprise for me too.

And finally, today I’m a guest on Brandon Shire’s blog talking about 18th century street lighting, homelessness and a terrific British LGBT youth charity – the Albert Kennedy Trust.

 

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New Release

Just a little plug for brand new LGBT historical novelist, Dean Pace-Frech, whose first novel came out today from Musa Publishing!!

A Place To Call Their Own

Blurb:
Is it possible for two Civil War veterans to find their place in the world on the Kansas Prairie?
When the War Between the States ended in 1865 many Americans emerged from the turmoil energized by their possibilities for the future. Frank Greerson and Gregory Young were no different. After battling southern rebels and preserving the Union, the two men set out to battle the Kansas Prairie and build a life together. Frank yearned for his own farm, away from his family—even at the risk of alienating them.

Gregory, an only child, returned home to claim his inheritance to help finance their adventure out west. Between the difficult work of establishing a farm on the unforgiving Kansas prairie, and the additional obstacles provided by the weather, Native Americans and wild animals, will their love and loyalty be enough to sustain them through the hardships?

Available here.

I’m looking forward to reading this very much and hope to seat Dean in my Comfy Chair one day next week to give him a bit of a grilling so watch this space!

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Today is the 4th of July, the day when the sovereign state of the United States of America celebrates shrugging off the rule of an oppressive power and striking out boldly on its own.

As befitted a new young state, the men in charge wanted to lay everything out clearly so everyone could see where they stood and wrote it all down in a constitution. One of the most cherished tenets of the Constitution is that all men are equal and deserving of the same rights under law, the same consideration from the state and the right to lead their lives in happiness and fulfilment.

Unfortunately the good intentions expressed in this Constitution were blurred by definitions. What is a man? Could a man who is not white, or is not heterosexual, or for that matter is female, be allowed the same freedoms? Slowly, slowly the initial ‘noes’ have become yesses. There’s still a way to go but every decade, every year, we creep closer to the ideal of life, love and liberty for all.

I live in the UK, which is quietly tying itself in knots over the same-sex marriage question. For a country where church and state are widely divided we sure are getting in a pother about it. This is where a Constitution would be very useful. We don’t have one, you see. Instead we have Common Law, formed in courtrooms and in Parliaments dating back to the 12th century, where things are tested to destruction again and again until a workable compromise is reached. Then and only then it goes on the law books. Does anyone else find it odd that a country that prides itself on fair play is still looking at the fundamental rights of its citizens through a legal magnifying glass formed 500 years ago?

Equality means equality – no ifs, buts or maybes – and I sincerely hope that soon it will be possible for all human beings, both sides of the pond, to plight their troths to each other in the way that pleases them both best, or not if they would sooner not, and their rights as spouses be recognised equally with the rights of people like me and my husband, married for 35 years and counting. For two young people who love each other to marry does not affect my marriage one bit, but to deny them that right on my behalf diminishes me as a civilised human being.

Please comment to show your support for equality across the board and I’ll do a draw at the end of the hop and send the winner a $10 gift card. If you want to have a chance of winning some of the terrific prizes being offered by Queer Town Abbey, don’t forget to add your email addy to your comment.

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Blurbs – no more than will fit on a postcard! Great idea.

EveHealy's avatarLissyWrites

Everyone assumes the hardest part of any journey to publication is finishing
that first draft, but it really just takes time, patience, coffee, therapy,
medication, etc… For me, the hardest part was trying to write a back cover
“blurb.” Yes. A paragraph was harder to write than my short story collection
Humans and Their Creations. The main issue is the daunting question, “How do I
describe all of that hard work in a single paragraph, when the work itself
contains _____+ paragraphs?”

It’s a lot harder than it looks, but with a few tips, tricks, notecards, and
some more medication, you’ll have a back cover blurb all your own… And maybe
even a few new favorite medications, but we’ll cover that another time (I don’t
condone drug use, just by the way. Drugs are bad. Don’t do them. Don’t go pilfering your grandma’s cabinet for her heart pills. Those…

View original post 683 more words

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comfy chair Eden Summers is my first guest from down-under. She has a passion for romance, with several erotic romance titles to her name, and is currently celebrating the release of her contemporary erotic romance, Blind Attraction that was published on the 28th of May.

###

BA Badge

(more…)

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Humpday Hook again

Iiiiiiiiiiit’s Humpday Hooktime!

How are we all? Happy? We should be with the plethora of authors providing bits of stuff for us to read. You can find the big list here but I hope you’ll pause to read my offering first.

If you recall, Sir Anthony Stanton-Rivers had a drink too many and lost a jokey IOU promising the hand of his sister, Lady Cicely, in marriage to his pal Chum Armstrong, who also had a drink too many and also lost the IOU. Both Anthony and Cicely are startled to discover a notice of her engagement in the paper, placed by her new fiance, Sir Patrick Fitzgerald. Cicely wants to know what kind of man he is.

~~~

No idea who did this splendid painting of Regency Cumberbatch, but wow!

“It could be worse,” Aubrey retorted. “What with Chum Armstrong and Rory Munro, we’ve had precious little luck with the Scots.”

They glared at one another for a moment or two then Aubrey continued.

“They call him Mad Pat, with good reason. I steer well clear of him and his set – Jerry Hawthorne, Corinthian Tom, you know – that lot. There are orders that he is to be shot on sight if he ever tries to enter Almack’s again. I believe that he did rather well at Cambridge but came down early, joined the Dragoon’s as a trooper, attacked an officer and was court-martialled. His family were able to prevent him from hanging but it so infuriated his father that he threw him out. You know the routine; a ticket on an Eastward bound ship and instructions to pick up his allowance from a bank in Bombay. So he went east to Indian and China and beyond. Lord knows what he did out there but it has left its mark. He’s older than us.”

“Well, he should know better then. What does he look like?”

“Black Irish, very brown from the sun with queer light eyes like a cat’s. He’s always smiling but it’s not always a very nice smile, if you know what I mean.”

“I can imagine,” Cicely said with a shudder. “He sounds awful!”

~~~

Ah Cicely … little does she know ….

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Ever heard of a ‘twofer’? Well that’s what you’re getting tonight – two for the price of one and worth every penny. My guests tonight are Tristram LaRoche and Daniel DeLoite. I first got to know Tristram through his historical novel The Hun and the General, which pairs Attila the Hun with a Roman general. With my passion for the horse archer cultures the book was a must read and I was impressed with the edgy prose. Tristram introduced me to Daniel’s work, which is of a far more robust nature than I would normally choose to read, but I gave it a go anyway because – hey, British authors need to stick together. All I can say is that I was pleasantly surprised.

They are here to celebrate their first joint venture – a self published volume both in Kindle format and paperback, comprising one of Tristram’s stories and several of Daniel’s – and it is called Manthology. So read on for a chat with the guys and an excerpt of my favourite of Daniel’s books, Dead Gorgeous.

Welcome, fellas.

~~~

Tris: I never thought it would happen. The first time I came across Daniel deLoite (Shut up, Dan! Behave.) I thought he was a right jerk-

Dan: Oh,hark at you!

Tris: But I was going to say how wrong I turned out to be, if you’ll give me chance.

Dan: Ok, be my guest. I’ll play with myself a bit while you finish boring everyone.

Tris: Thanks. Go do it in the fast lane of the M1 if you like. Now, I never thought it would happen-

Dan: You said that-

Tris: Ssh! Never thought I would write a book with anyone, let alone the uber tricky Daniel.

Dan: Well, we haven’t exactly written one together, have we?

Tris: Oh, how picky! OK, we’ve collaborated on an anthology. Is that better?

Dan: Yes. Spot on. Actually, some spot off would come in handy at my place.

Tris: Good grief. Will I live to regret it, I wonder? Anyway, Dan persuaded me to stick my novella On My Knees between the same covers as five of his short stories.

Dan: Much better! You’re getting the hang of it – at last.

Tris: And we called it MANTHOLOGY. It’s only available from Amazon because we wanted to put it on their Prime programme so that you can borrow it for FREE if you want to. And-

Dan: *buzz* Repetition of ‘and’.

Tris: *groans*

Dan: We’ve also whacked out a paperback version at a really interesting price, again from Amazon or the Createspace store.

Tris: Say “thank you” to Elin for even entertaining your presence.

Dan: Huh?

Tris: You heard me. You’ve said some pretty biting things about female writers of gay fiction and she hasn’t banned you from her website.

Dan: Yet.

Tris: Don’t! Just say “thank you Elin”.

Dan: Thank you Elin. I didn’t mean anything personal, like 😉

Tris: And thanks from me, too, Elin. You’re a star. I’ve persuaded the tight-fisted Dan to let you have an excerpt.

Dan: Nothing wrong with tight fisting.

Tris: Ssh! Go away.

MANTHOLOGY in paperback and eBook from Amazon

and the Createspace store

An excerpt from Daniel deLoite’s short chiller, Dead Gorgeous which is part of the Manthology

Max knew me too well. After half an hour he’d found his place on the dance floor – a clear area near the old baptismal font that had been turned into a bar for the evening – and he partied with anyone and everyone. I’d picked up a can of lager and found my way up the steps to the organ loft, trying to escape the infernal racket of the so-called music. I leaned on the balustrade and looked down into what was left of the church. Many of the pews had gone, whether to a good home or at the hands of vandals I couldn’t tell, and mounds of rubbish had been swept into shapes resembling giant molehills on the cracked floor. My eyesight couldn’t penetrate the gloom to the far corners, and the strobe lighting that flashed somewhere beneath me tormented my vision. No sooner did I think I’d worked out the carvings and statues than the frantic light would pummel my senses and something completely different would be staring back at me. What the fuck? I shook my head and looked at the can of lager. Not even Special Brew.

As the music changed track, I thought I heard a sound behind me. I turned on my heel, my eyes automatically searching the floor in expectation of a rat. They say that wherever you are in London you’re never more than six feet from one of the effing creatures. Anyway, it was far too dark down on the floor to see, even if there had been a family of vermin. When I raised my eyes the organ caught my attention. Everything in the church had a look of decay and dilapidation, dust had gathered everywhere – the Goths downstairs didn’t seem at all bothered by it but I did think it must really fuck with their black clothes. But the organ stood there untarnished, its pipes as bright as the day they’d been fitted, the glorious carvings oozing with the rich warmth of tropical hardwoods as if they’d been waxed and polished only that morning. I breathed in and the smell could not have been more remote from the staleness I’d expected, all beeswax and honey and vinegar.

By now my eyes had become better accustomed to the dim light, my back to the nave and the incessant strobing. Yet, as the swatch of light flashed on behind me, the face of an angel appeared and disappeared, appeared and disappeared. I stepped closer and put out my hand to feel it, like a blind man acquainting himself with a stranger. The angel stood too high for me to reach and I was glad to find the organist’s stool nearby. I dragged it across the floor and climbed up, grabbing hold of the angel’s arm with my free hand to steady myself. My own body cast an intermittent shadow now, and I traced the intricate carving that gave life to this creature of Heaven. I never could tell the gender of angels and often joked that when you’d seen one, you’d seen them all, yet something about this androgynous face attracted me. I felt the square jaw, the full lips, cheeks so gently formed they felt soft despite being made of wood. High cheek bones and a subtly prominent brow reminded me of the chiselled features so often seen on male models and I smiled to myself. Dare I? My hand made its way downwards, running through the folds of the robe.

“Do you like angels?” The voice seemed to come from the wooden lips and I flinched, grabbing the rich folds of the rigid garment to prevent myself falling from the stool. I peered at the face, trying to make it out. “Do you like angels, Rick?” The lips didn’t move. What the fuck? Of course they didn’t move, it was a fucking statue!

The sound I’d heard before, the rustling that made me think of rats, came louder now from behind. I turned, still clinging to the angel’s robe with one hand, can of lager in the other.

“Hello, Rick.” Even in the gloom I could see the source of the voice. The strobe had no effect on the face, its luminescence cold and constant, as if not really there.

My senses told me this was the same face as the carved angel, but how? I held up the can of lager, turned my eyes on it even though I could barely see it, and threw it to the floor. “Jesus.”

“Not quite.” The voice had an ethereal quality that rose above the clatter and fizz of the discarded can, light but smothering the rhythmic sounds below. It sounded male and female all at the same time.

A tremble ran through my body and when I opened my mouth to speak my teeth chattered. The apparition moved toward me and I heard the rustle again. Fear pinned me to the spot, even as I felt hands on my crotch and heard the zip of my flies being pulled down. My entire body stiffened instantly.

You can find Tris here: http://tristramlaroche.com/

And Dan here: http://danieldeloite.blogspot.co.uk/

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