YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


So, I forgot to Flail in July...
It's funny how something you do consistently for so long can just slip your mind, right? 

But the first Monday in July came and went, and it didn't even hit me that I'd forgotten Kermit Flail until about two weeks in. 

This month, Mr. Andrew Grey asked me if I was still doing Kermit Flail and I thought, "Yes! Yes I am!" because I DO love flailing my friends, but because I sort of spaced this last month, it's going to be a very short--and yet oddly exciting flail!

First, Andrew and I both have new releases--two of them, in fact--and that's always exciting, but next? Andrew Grey, Kim Fielding and I are planning a VERY exciting event. We're doing it on my FB Page, Choose Your Lane to Love, and it's a "Fabulous Follow" day, where you get a chance to follow some of your very favorite authors to get their newsletters or join their FB groups or follow them on BookBub--and get prizes for doing something we hope you wanna do anyway!  Hopefully we can line up some VERY special authors for you--I mean, Andrew and Kim have a lot of friends, so we should be able to do something amazing. Now I know when you hit the link, the FB page will look very naked--but that's sort of why we chose it. IT'S NAKED. We can have an event there and that will be pretty much the only thing there--but don't forget to like the page now so you can follow what's going to happen then, right?
​
So hopefully a lot of people will be sending out the link and talking the event up--and in any case... watch this space!

And now, for the flail!

Andrew has two contemporary books coming out, and heartwarming contemporary is sort of Andrew's BEST THING (well, also exciting romantic suspense, but that's under his other name!) So having a double dose of Andrew this month? WOOHOO! GO AUGUST!

And as for me? Well, we've been waiting a LONG TIME for The Muscle, and folks seem to really be enjoying Hunter and Grace, but on top of that, we have the fourth book in the Search and Rescue series, Spencer's book, Hidden Heart. I'm, uhm, sort of proud of this book. I like friends to lovers books, or longtime crush/first time kiss books, mostly because relationships do tend to evolve. But sometimes, that instant attraction book that builds into something bigger is SO much fun, and Spencer and Theo are instant antagonists who have to work together, and wow. That kind of bicker/banter can be SO hot. And Spencer is one of a select few characters who barged into someone else's book and demanded their own damned romance. I kid you not--there I was, writing Silent Heart, and suddenly here comes this asshole to help with the business while Glen is laid up, and in the meantime, he's like, "Hey! I'm an asshole! But I'm REALLY HOT so write me!"  I had to do it. Turns out, Spencer's hidden heart was just waiting for a chance to show itself. I was so surprised.

So we've got some good stuff here! Even if it's a modest flail, it's hopefully an excellent way to close out your summer!

Amy

Balancing Act 
by Andrew Grey


Freelance computer genius Trent Marcus took a web development job he wishes he hadn’t, and now he’s in a world of hurt. With his safety threatened, he needs someone who can protect him from his client, who responds to “no” with threats and intimidation.

Personal trainer and silver fox Collin Fitzpatrick gave part of his leg for his country, and now his ex is selling his home, so he needs a place to live quickly. He hears from mutual friends that Trent has a room he can rent and needs Collin’s help.

Neither Trent nor Collin is looking for a relationship, but attraction ignites for Trent, and it’s returned, to Trent’s surprise.

The last thing Collin expects is for his protective instincts to blossom into something much more. Trent’s care and genuineness combine to heal the heart his ex left shattered. As the task of keeping Trent safe becomes more paramount, so does the realization that failing could cost both of them everything.

Rescue Me

by Andrew Grey

Veterinarian Mitchell Brannigan gets off to a rocky start with his new neighbor when someone calls the town to complain about the noise. Mitchell runs a shelter for rescue dogs, and dogs bark. But when he goes to make peace, he meets Beau Pfister and his fussy baby daughter, Jessica… and starts to fall in love.

Beau moved out to the country to get away from his abusive ex-husband, but raising an infant alone, with no support network, is lonely and exhausting. The last thing he expects is a helping hand from the neighbor whose dogs he complained about.

Mitchell understands what it’s like to live in fear of your ex, and he’s determined to help Beau move on. But when an unseen menace threatens the shelter and Beau, it becomes apparent that he hasn’t dealt with his own demons.

With each other and a protective Chihuahua for support, Mitchell, Beau, and Jessica could make a perfect family. Mitchell won’t let anything happen to them.

But who’s going to rescue him?

The Muscle
by Amy Lane


A true protector will guard your heart before his own.

Hunter Rutledge saw one too many people die in his life as mercenary muscle to go back to the job, so he was conveniently at loose ends when Josh Salinger offered him a place in his altruistic den of thieves.

Hunter is almost content having found a home with a group of people who want justice badly enough to steal it. If only one of them didn’t keep stealing his attention from the task at hand….

Superlative dancer and transcendent thief Dylan “Grace” Li lives in the moment. But when mobsters blackmail the people who gave him dance—and the means to save his own soul—Grace turns to Josh for help.

Unfortunately, working with Josh’s crew means working with Hunter Rutledge, and for Grace, that’s more dangerous than any heist.

Grace’s childhood left him thinking he was too difficult to love—so he’s better off not risking his love on anyone else. Avoiding commitment keeps him safe. But somehow Hunter’s solid, grounding presence makes him feel safer. Can Grace trust that letting down his guard to a former mercenary doesn’t mean he’ll get shot in the heart?​

Hidden Heart

by Amy Lane

Search-and-rescue worker Spencer Helmsley has everything he needs: a job he loves, a flight partner he’d die for, and an amazing dog.

Then he flings himself out of a helicopter to rescue Theo Wainscott.

Stuck on a raft in the middle of a flood with the most stubborn, argumentative man in the world, Spencer soon finds himself asking not how they’ll survive but what’ll kill them first—the water, each other… or the sexual tension.

While Theo and Spencer are trying to beat the odds, Theo is also trying to beat some sense into his rescuer. Spencer seems to have no regard for his own safety, and that’s a problem for Theo. Maybe he’s never seen another gay man in the wild, but it doesn’t take him long to recognize that he’d like to get to know this one better.

If they make it out alive, Theo will have his work cut out for him convincing Spencer to risk his heart instead of his life….
​

So, I've made no secret of taking a lot of inspiration from the heist genre movies that I love so much. I'm gonna tell y'all right now--Hunter is an homage to Elliot from Leverage. 

No, not everything is the same. For one thing, I don't think Hunter had nearly the need for redemption that Elliot had when Leverage started, and for another, Hunter doesn't mind guns--and he doesn't cook. And Elliot doesn't have Hunter's magic Kevlar lined leather coat that so fascinates Grace, either!

But I wanted a tough guy who treated his body like a weapon--and who understand that human nature is more than just a predictive tool to find a mark. Someone who could have patience with Dylan Li and work to understand this highly unpredictable creature, someone whose emotional reactions are specific and unique, and whose attachment to Josh Salinger, while platonic, is every bit as important as his attachment to a lover.
Elliot gave me that feeling--and part of that is, of course, because of the actor, Christian Kane, and part of that is Dean Devlin (the producer of the show) and his ability to give us archetypes we cling to with our needy, greedy little hearts. So Hunter is an homage to that archetype, the mercenary with the heart of gold, the gentle soldier, the scary guy who takes the wild card under his wing and protects him with all his skill. 

And as for Grace?

As Goddess is my witness, my inspiration for Grace is my daughter's wayward cat, Nebula.

Nebula, who can leave a bird head in the middle of Squish's room and lick his paws in a litter of feathers, asking us why we seem so excited. Nebula who purr-attacks faces in the morning, finishing up with love bites and drool. Sometimes into our mouths. Nebula, who has stalked every animal in the house and pounced on it, then sat back and tried to make friends.

Nebula, fearless, graceful, adept at stealing, be it yarn, small objects from Squish's room, or (sadly) baby birds from their nests. 

And Nebula--kind, affectionate, playful, and beautiful, who deserves to be worshipped and adored, but will only ever have one true human who can do that in full force.

That's Nebula--and that's Grace. Except for the bird heads and the drooling into the mouth--but there are equivocal behaviors in Grace, I think you can spot them.

I'm on the fourth book of this series (Carl, the suit, and Carmichael Carmody--Michael--whom you will meet in the next book.) I have listened to podcasts, watched and rewatched heist movies and series, and fallen in love with the genre all over again, and I think I've nailed down what appeals to me.

We see--again and again and again--people in power who abuse the little guy. They are usually greedy and humorless and insist that everybody obeys the rules but them. To see people who don't want fame or even money use their own unique skills to bring those people down--that's satisfying. To see them do it with humor, kindness, a sense of play and all those things that those of us on the bottom of the food chain use to make our lives comfortable, bearable even--that feeds our souls. Somehow, we are getting the better of things. The angry assholes at the top of the food chain will never know that as awful as they are--and as much harm as they do--they're being laughed at. Those of us who enjoy our everyday lives with snark and banter and whimsy--we don't get them at all. We can win without making the rest of humanity miserable. I think that's what heist stories--modern trickster tales-- do for us. They give us equality in an unequal universe.
​
Danny tells Stirling that in the first book of the series. I hope I can make that idea play through until the end.
​

I feel bad.

The package arrived a week ago, right after we got back from the ocean, and I was SO excited, but there were other things to do.

I don't blog like I used to, and before I knew it, a week had gone by and I hadn't yet celebrated what was an extraordinary compliment--for me, and accomplishment--for the artist. 

I feel like I need to do that now. 

For those of you who have read my Little Goddess series, you should recognize this. It is, after all, replicated down to the tiniest detail. 

I wish I was better at pictures--behind the bench with Adrian's face on it (and the magical color-changing cushions!) is a wall with tiny stones, and flowers. There are ladybugs in unexpected places, and eyes as well. Remember--anything might be sentient on Green's Hill. The tiny basket of knitting is really knitted. The roses have no thorns. And the words to the song our heroes sang to bind the hill and the spell to their love are written along the edge of the sculpture. 

Tiny blue flowers dot the landscape, and snapdragons abound.

It's glorious.

I have been presented with some beautiful fan art--and it always brings me to tears.

The book with my logo etched in the pages. *holds hands to heart*  

The yarn felted dragon, when that was--briefly--my logo. *eyes grow bright and shiny*

Yarn, specially spun or dyed for me. Tiny bags meant for knitting socks. A scarf, handed to me spontaneously from a friend.

All of these gifts--and there are so many more I'm not giving justice to. 

And this one--this one brought me to my knees.

My children--Squish in particular--lost their minds. I was explaining what each detail meant, and Squish looked at me and said, "You thought of this?"

"Well, yes! But Devony created it."

"But you thought of it!"

I did. A very long time ago. And to know it still lives makes me cry all over again.

Thank you, to everyone who has written me a letter or sent me a card or given me a gift because I've moved you.
​
You let me know that my words will live a while yet.

 Okay-- so it's been a while since I blogged. I keep wondering, "Should I keep the blog?" and then, a thought hits me, or a week I want to talk about, and yes, I'm back on the blog again.


Well, it IS a fifteen year old habit, and that's hard to break.


Anyway--I've been RIPPING through audiobooks, and I tend to go in binges by author. At the moment, my binge of choice is the acrid, smog-soaked, nicotine stained literary legacy of Harry Bosch.  I admit--I was lured here the same way I was lured into Longmire--but a shot-gun worthy TV show, but, unlike Longmire, in which the books were FAR superior to the show, the books are are... well, they're hitting their stride. 


I think the author had to have the same realization that the Cure had fifteen years into their career. Only a very small percentage of their audience had ever fulfilled the dark promise of their songs, so they should probably lighten up a little and give people hope.


It's easy to see this happen in increments in Connelly's work--in the first Bosch book, for instance, Harry doesn't eat. I think Connelly figured that it really is impossible for a guy in his late 30's to live on cigarettes, coffee, and beer, so by the next book, he had dinner once in a while. I, for one, was greatly relieved--I was worried about his digestion, no joke.


Nevertheless, I have a friend's audiobook held in reserve just in case the unrelenting LA noir of Connelly starts dogging all my steps like a black mist and I find myself buying a trench coat in the middle of a Sacramento July. As I told my friend, "I get romantic suspense, but this is so dark it makes Batman's terminal depression look like fuzzy humping bunnies in the park."


And since I like to dissect my genres and sub-genres, I decided that, looking at Lisa Gardner and Michael Connelly, of course, I'd do a little bit of analysis on what makes a good noir hero
.
And it turned into this:


You might be a NOIR HERO if...
You dine on coffee, cigarettes and beer, and feel as though the beer made you bloated.


You hear the sound of children laughing, and it makes you sad.


An FBI profiler says you're one step away from crossing the line, and you look him dead in the eye and tell him to draw another line.


If you actually have a win, it's going to cost you the only friend who understand you.


It never surprises you that your hookups turn out to be the bad guy. Ever.


If you dare to be a dick, you'll get someone killed and carry that weight for the rest of your life.


You're always one step away from lighting that next cigarette.


You get a little thrill when you land a new case, because now you have something to do on a Saturday night.


You're always right, but who needs credit. Politicians, that's who, and you're not a fucking politician.


You have exquisite taste in artwork--as long as it depicts lonely people and those being tortured in hell.


You like obscure jazz on vinyl. All other music need not apply.
​

You've stared into the abyss so long, it's stared back, fell asleep listening to jazz, and you've blown it away.


And oh, there's more...
But at this point, I feel like I need to write a list like that for characters in all other sub-genres, and, well, that would be a another shitty craft book...
Excuse me... I've got an idea...

 So yes--we went on a short trip to San Francisco--and had a blast.


Mate and I went down Friday, had dinner at a place called Max's in Burlingame, and generally enjoyed being adults, alone together. We had the television all to ourselves--it was a stunning indulgence. The next day we met friends--Andrew Grey and Karen Rose. Andrew and his husband Dom had been staying with Karen and her husband by the ocean, and Karen was returning them to the airport. Since Mate and I don't live too far away, we made a day of it. A trip around the Bay on a tour cruise, a nice meal--and fantastic company. The next day we had brunch with another friend and his SO--and then, reluctantly, we returned home.


One of the first things I discovered when we got home was that the kids had ordered pizza instead of eating all the food I'd cooked before we left. *sigh* I mean, it was the weekend--pizza was to be expected. But still.


Anyway--that said, everybody has been the better for the time away and the breather--but appreciating my kids means appreciating their quirks. 


Such as...


Typing at night, absolutely dedicated to my project, only to sense a presence... not malign, just... a presence... behind me... just out of my line of sight. A hand reaches to my side, where I keep my water, and I gasp!


"Mom--just getting water. Love you, goodnight!" Squish (and I have permission to use that nickname again!) has made their nightly visit, and I can write in peace again.



Or can I?


Squish moves on delicate loaf-shaped feet, absorbing all sound. They're a ghostly presence, a sort of living specter, haunting the space behind my desk chair. 


Not so, ZoomBoy. 


In the depths of night, ZoomBoy emerges. The creak of his door opening is eclipsed by the flap-flap-flap of his hideous troll feet as they pound the floorboards... they're coming! They're coming! They're in the kitchen!  There is the rustle of paper, the creak of cellophane, the opening of chip bags and cookie cartons and then, a snorffling, a crunching, some great gulps, and a sigh of appreciation. 


I don't even want to look at the kitchen to see the carnage within. 


Instead, I stay focused on my keyboard, getting, if possible, even more motivated to keep writing. 


Behind me, the troll feet resume their punishment of the hardwood, and a muffled, "Gnigh'molm" is heard, followed by the dropping of crumbs as ZoomBoy retires to his lair, captures cookie boxes and chip bags in his clutches.


And I am left alone in silence, wondering if there is anything left of the trip to the grocery store I made before, and stalwartly concentrating on my word count for the night.


My night visitors are gone, and I can retreat into fiction once more.
​

So I'll be honest--our lives got a little busy in the last week and I haven't blogged in a bit. Of course, in the last week, we've had a couple of fun things. An old friend from high school came to visit, and I found the perfect chicken and waffles venue--after a lot of hard searching, believe me. (It's a chain--Country Waffles--and I'm now a fan.) 

And the visit with the old friend was lovely. What was funny was that when I was leaving the house to take her to her sister's house, Mate said, "I'll come with you." He'd been working and was a little stressed about it, so I was surprised. But after we dropped her off (and I was so happy for the opportunity to visit!) he said, "Thanks for letting me come along. We just haven't talked in forever!" Which was nice--and true. I just love that when you're older, a car date is a chance to be alone with someone so you can have a one on one conversation--now THAT'S sexy! Anyway--after that, he said, "So, what do you want to do about tomorrow?"

To which I answered, "What's tomorrow?"

And he said, "Now see, that's where I was at about four hours ago."

And I said, "Wait, what's tomorrow?"

"Now that's where I was at an two hours ago."

"What is tomorrow? Is tomorrow something?"

"We're getting closer..."

"Oh my God!" I cried, feeling stupid. "It's our anniversary!"

"And that's what hit me about an hour ago. Should we do anything?"

"I went to Target to get Father's Day cards for you, and I forgot about our anniversary."

"Well, I haven't been to Target, and I'll be honest--I don't see it happening."

I sighed. "I'll be honest--the trip to San Francisco we're taking on the 26th--I've been conflating that with our anniversary. Is it okay if we just kiss each other and be glad we're together tomorrow, and save our money for the trip?"

"And now we're on the same page."

Which reminds me--we're leaving tomorrow mid-morning, with an adult child at home with the teenagers, and I'm soooo looking forward to it.

And now for Car Drama in 3 acts. Father's Day.

Act I, S1, in which my stepmom calls us up and asks if we can bring Big T and ZoomBoy to her house on Father's Day because she and my dad are moving furniture because unlike us, their house is being kept nice and they're redecorating.

Act I, S2, We ask Chicken to pick her brother up, because HIS car drama is well documented here, and she agrees. Oh, thank God, we say to ourselves. That is one leg of the Citrus Heights to Sacramento to Loomis triangle that we do NOT have to participate in. *fakes laughter* Oh, if we only knew.

Act I, S3, in which Chicken calls us up and says, "I'm at my brother's, but my car is acting up. Can you come get us?"  Oh. Well. Shit. 

Act I, S4, in which Mate says, "If it's still running, Chicken and I will drive it back to Chicken's apartment, while you two follow us to make sure we get there."  And the tension is building.

Act II

Act II, S1--Meanwhile, in Chicken's vehicle, just as they're getting off the freeway at Auburn Blvd. 
Mate: Wow--that knocking noise is getting worse. I'd say it was overheating, but your temperature gauge appears to be pretty cold. Wait... *remembers it's 104 outside*
Chicken: Yeah, that's broken.
Mate: Oh shit--
Car: Starts pouring out steam from blown radiator.

Act II, S2--Meanwhile, in my car, just as we're getting off the freeway at Auburn Blvd.
Me: Oh shit, traffic's really bad here. What's blocking the corner of the intersection?
Big T: Looks like a car's broken down. Ugh, I hate to be that person in the broken down car.
Me: So does your sister.  
Big T: Oh no...

Act II, S3--In which we leave Chicken to deal with the tow truck to her apartment and take her dog with us, because we figure we'll be picking her up there after the tow truck arrives.

Act III

Act III, S1. In which Chicken calls us up and tearfully begs out of Father's Day festivities in Loomis, and then asks if we can bring her dog back.

Act III, S2. In which three out of four kids--and three out of four dogs--load up in the back of the Honda Odyssey so we can go backwards, drop off the dog, and then go to Loomis, with a stunning 100 miles under the Odyssey's belt just dealing with car drama. Mate and I make tentative plans to devote my July paycheck to Chicken's car, since June's has gone toward Big T's.

Act III, S3--The ironic twist: The kids sweat like iced tea pitchers at a summer picnic the entire way to Loomis because--you guessed it--the A/C in the back of the car isn't working, and we have to wait for the cycled air to cool down. It seems we've been paying for the kids' cars so much that our own is not necessarily in prime condition.

And... Finis.

 Wow. I had to do Kermit Flail last week and I really don't set aside a lot of time for blogging, but, well, there's been some shit!


A. You all saw that Big T graduated--YAYAYAYAYAAY! And then ZoomBoy graduated--YAYAYAYAYAY!!! *breathe in, breathe out* WHEW. Lots and lots of stuff going down with both those things--I've been a bit busy, yeah? Anyway-- for those who posted the nice things by ZB's graduation picture? Thank you. We really are proud. It's the beginning of things--he's starting to see how much he has to look forward to, and that's fantastic.


B. So, about grad-night...  Tuesday night was grad-night, and Mate and I saw that, on paper, they didn't have a lot of chaperones. We foolishly jumped into what is, traditionally, a big clique puddle to volunteer. Grad-night was 10:00 pm - 4:00 am at the local Sunsplash--and usually, in June, this is a great thing. I mean, we've got a couple of days coming that are going to be 109 and don't tell me we all wouldn't give our nana's chili recipe to be out in the water in the middle of the night. Except--and this happened during BOTH the teenager's 6th and 8th grade graduation trips--one of which was to, you guessed it, SunSplash--there are some freak days in June that top out in the 70's and bottom out in the low 50's, and grad-night was one of them. All of these teenagers running up to the slide towers, sliding down and then running up again in the wind--I felt like we should have handed out little first-aid brochures to the boys assuring them that their testicles would reappear sometime in the following week and telling the girls not to get too close to glass. It was COLD. And our job was to do loops around the facility--for real? I'd clocked in about 7,500 steps when I got there, and by the time I went home at 1:30, I'd clocked in another 7,500, and I'm not a 10,000 step a day sort of girl. I was tired for three days--and Mate claimed his core temp didn't return until two days later. So we did that. ZoomBoy loved it--loved it ALL--and we were really glad he got to go. We were also glad they served pizza, because it was WARM.


C. So, Big T got a driver's license and an SUV. The SUV, like everybody's first car, has some glitches. In this case, his SUV stalls for no reason at all, and Big T has had traffic mishaps. He keeps trying to push the thing by himself. The first time, he lost control of it and it dented a homeless man's apartment. The second time, T  tried to push it up an overpass, the thing started to go backward, pulled T with it, and as it was dragging him down the hill, it T-boned another car. *sigh* And I know it's going to be a huge headache for him, but mostly? I'm just THRILLED IT HASN'T BEEN WORSE. His father and I are having lots of, "Stay in the car and hit the hazard lights and wait until it turns over again," conversations. Also? DON'T DRIVE ON THE FREEWAY!!!! And part of me is like, "Your parents turned you loose in a tin can that looked like a sock full of rocks after your first two years driving--he'll be fine," but 80% of me is, "MY BABY!!!!!!!" So, uhm, he's 28 and I'm still worrying. It never goes away.


D. Had breakfast with a friend on Friday morning because she was in town for a very short amount of time. This was notable only because, well, we're coming out of a pandemic and I haven't done something like this for over a year. Boy, I was glad to see my friend--lunch with friends is one of the things I really missed.


E. In that vein, we watched a movie in our driveway, with pizza. We'll do it again. We had friends over. Summer is here, and movies in the driveway with pizza should be a requirement at least twice a month. It was an Annabelle movie--for some reason I've got a soft spot for that franchise--I'm usually not into horror, but some movies, I can watch.


F. This isn't a big part of my income--but it is part and I'm proud of it. I've been teaching--one or two classes a month--for the last year. I've mentioned them before, but I realized that it's gotten to be a really regular part of my job, and I'm happy. <3


G. Finished a Christmas novella for the first time in a while, so I'll have one this year. Woohoo!!!!


H. Started Dante and Cully's Hedge Witch book--which I'll be working on when I sign off!
​

G'night everybody!

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!!
Okay, so I'll be honest-- I had two children graduate in the last two months, one from high school and the other from college, and I am PSYCHED. Just in time for a long hot summer, I am celebrating that two of my offspring are doin' okay and a lot of my friends have new releases, and that is sweet to hear!
​

​Let's start with the inimitable R.L. Merrill, who is rereleasing an anthology story. Now R.L. is a diehard rock fan, and she's known for her angst--so those you who loved Beneath the Stain might want to check out this story--and then get hooked on the rest of her work!



I Want More (Rerelease)

by R.L. Merrill
Hotshot music producer Morrison Jones has been hired by legendary metal god, Aldous Archer, to record his comeback album—and he insists Morrison work with his former best friend turned nemesis. Leland Elliott swore he’d never step foot onstage with Morrison ever again, but time—and being stuck in a studio together for a week—has a way of healing wounds. Will the stars align for the former bandmates? Welcome to Bolder Breed Studios.

Previously part of the Love Is All Volume 3 anthology (2020)

​Moving on to Andrew Grey, who cut his teeth on the rural setting and is in fine form now with Nowhere to Ride!



Nowhere to Ride

by Andrew Grey
Unjustly accused of a crime, Ky Archer is trying to keep his ranch together, with fierce tenacity and minimal help. With his nefarious accuser the lead wolf at the door, Ky is resolved to do whatever he has to in order to keep the final link with his family intact.

Brodie Tyler is down on his luck--way down. Down enough to camp with his baby sister in a tent to get away from relatives he’d hoped would help him. His parents are gone and he's got nowhere to go, but he’s determined to keep his sister safe with him, no matter what.

Ky finds Brodie and Emily on his property and takes them in out of the storm… literally. Neither expects the heat that ignites between them to be as hot as the western sun. The men find they fit together well, both at work and in the bedroom. They also find they have a common enemy who tries to tear them apart. Working together, they might discover that each holds the key for the other’s desire.

Jaime Samms is known for her crystalline prose and painful angst--and for Mildred, her sentient house in Griffon's Elbow! This looks like another sweet venture into magical realism--and another encounter with Mildred and perhaps a kindred house spirit!


Brother's Keeper

by Jaime Samms

If blood really is thicker than water, are the ties that bind a found family stronger than the ties of blood?

After a decade of homelessness and living off his own wits, Tris has lost all faith in the kindness of strangers. And after years of letting his friends down time after time, Ozzy knows he’s the last person anyone should count on.

When Tris’s search for his lost younger brother lands him in a small town at an overly-friendly Bed and Breakfast, everyone, including the B and B herself, seem to be pushing Tris and Ozzy together.

Tris learned a long time ago, under the fists of his manipulative step-father, that family can’t be trusted, and love means nothing. Torn between the desire to see Tris thrive in his new home, and the need to protect the very younger brother Tris came looking for, Ozzy has some hard choices ahead.

Welcome back to Griffon's Elbow and The Oaks B&B, aka Mildred. She's not the only sentient house in town.
​

Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James write quirky, happy romance with sparkling dialog and adorable heroes--they took a bit of a break from pubbing, but it's great to see them back with the B&N most anticipated book of the month!


String Theory

by Ashlyn Kane and Morgan James

For Jax Hall, all-but-dissertation in mathematics, slinging drinks and serenading patrons at a piano bar is the perfect remedy for months of pandemic anxiety. He doesn’t expect to end up improvising on stage with pop violinist Aria Darvish, but the attraction that sparks between them? That’s a mathematical certainty. If he can get Ari to act on it, even better. Ari hasn’t written a note, and his album deadline is looming. Then he meets Jax, and suddenly he can’t stop the music. But Ari doesn’t know how to interpret Jax’s flirting—is making him a drink called Sex with the Bartender a serious overture? Jax jumps in with both feet, the only way he knows how. Ari is wonderful, and Jax loves having a partner who’s on the same page. But Ari’s struggles with his parents’ expectations, and Jax’s with the wounds of his past, threaten to unbalance an otherwise perfect equation. Can they prove their double act has merit, or does it only work in theory?
​

And speaking of Ashlyn Kane! Her book Fake Dating the Prince is on sale for $.99 on Amazon, and at that price, it's definitely worth checking out! 
​

The Long Con

by Amy Lane

Mass Market Paperback Edition is out on July 6th!!!

​Once upon a time in Rome, Felix Salinger got caught picking his first pocket and Danny Mitchell saved his bacon. The two of them were inseparable… until they weren’t.

Twenty years after that first meeting, Danny returns to Chicago, the city he shared with Felix and their perfect, secret family, to save him again. Felix’s news network—the business that broke them apart—is under fire from an unscrupulous employee pointing the finger at Felix. An official investigation could topple their house of cards. The only way to prove Felix is innocent is to pull off their biggest con yet.

But though Felix still has the gift of grift, his reunion with Danny is bittersweet. Their ten-year separation left holes in their hearts that no amount of stolen property can fill. A green crew of young thieves looks to them for guidance as they negotiate old jewels and new threats to pull off the perfect heist—but the hardest job is proving that love is the only thing of value they’ve ever had.

Okay-- so I've been trying to explain this for weeks, and this time I'm going to try pictures.

I'm making a Granny Hexagon sweater.

This is magic. 

See, if you make a granny square, it has 4 90 degree corners. It lays flat. But if you make a Granny Hexagon--and don't compensate for the corners by using fewer stitches--you end up with 6 90 degree corners, for a total of 540 degrees, and it doesn't lay flat. 

In fact, it looks like a deformed sad little starfish thing that will never lie flat and will be laughed at by its friends.

So sad. Do we feel sorry for it yet? 

And look how tiny it is!

Why, you'd have to go around and around and around a LOT to make that starfish thing amount to anything interesting.

​But what could it amount to?

Well, here's the fun part. If you fold this tiny little starfish thing, it makes a very interesting shape. 

IN fact, it makes a little half-a-tee. Do you see that? But it's got some open seams. If you sew along the top edge there--not the whole thing, mind you--you will have an arm, and, well, half a body.

​

And that may not seem like a lot--I mean, look at it. It's tiny. But imagine you made one of those and went around and around and around with some slightly thicker yarn... you would have a GINORMOUS granny hexagon.

And then when you folded THAT one in half--the right way, corner to corner at both ends--you would have a much larger half a T--or, half a kimono shaped sweater.

And then, if you had two of them, you could sew the arm seams at the top and one seam along the back, and you'd have a very square-shaped jacket.

Or, you could sew the one seam in the back and the one in the front and have a very basic jumper.

Or, you could sew the seam in the back and add some flaps on the front and some length and have a much more formidable jacket, and then add a hood, and, hey, a few rounds to tighten up the sleeves a little, and it would have a much different shape.

But the point is, here, that you take a sad little starfish shape and keep working on it, and it could become a sweater of generous proportions.

And that's what I've been working on of late. 

Things 2,3, and 4 were gathered around this afternoon before I went grocery shopping. I'd needed to root through my little shoulder-sling for something and I pulled out a ziploc baggie full of Hershey's kisses--a thing I do NOT keep stocked because... *flails* REASONS!

"Mom?" Says Thing 2.

"Yeah," I said, trying to remember what I needed from the store. "A nice man gave me candy while I was walking today."

"From his panel van????" Squeaks Thing 4.

"No, no. From his SUV. It was no big deal. I was walking the dogs in the residential part of the neighborhood and he pulled alongside and said I looked happy from behind. I think that's because I just dyed my hair and it doesn't match my face yet."

"You looked happy?" This was Thing 3.

"Well, uhm. Yes. Anyway, he was old... er... well, his hair was all gray, so maybe ten years older than Dad and I. So not old. Advanced middle age."

"A creepy old man in a panel van said you looked happy?" I have no idea who said this--they all seemed horrified, so I kept talking.

"He was a very sweet suburban guy who apparently goes by his pharmacy once a week and gives out chocolate to say thank you. He didn't have enough so he had to go buy more because he didn't like disappointing people. And he was driving a newish SUV. It was fine. He couldn't have pulled me in through the window--I'm too big."

A sort of numbness has set in. Even Mate has stopped working in the kitchen and is staring at me. 

"So he just saw you walking and gave you... chocolate?" he asked.

"Well, yeah. See, his dad had a heart replacement at 82 and lived to be 93 and his takeaway was 'Treat each day as a gift.' And the guy liked to spread that kind of happiness. So, you know. He was trying to be the gift. He wanted to make the world a better place."

"By giving chocolate." This is Thing 4--still horrified.

"I had one," I said. "There doesn't appear to be any hallucinogenic effects. Do you guys want the rest?"

"NO!" They all cry. "Some random stranger in a panel van tells you his life story and gives you drugs and you come home to give them to US???"

"He was a very nice man," I tell them again. "And the chocolate seems fine. And I don't know his life story--he just seemed very happy."

"Because he gave you drugged chocolate."

"Well, maybe it's Prozac. I mean, aren't most of us on that anyway?"

"DAMMIT MOM!"

​Whatever. I just woke up from my nap and I'm in the mood for sweets and there are ten more Hershey's kisses on a bag on my coffee table. Go me!