Tuesday, 31 May 2011

Welcome to: MORNING REPORT by Sue Brown

Welcome to: MORNING REPORT by Sue Brown: "Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Date published: January 7th, 2011 ISBN: 978-1-61581-677-4 (Print) ISBN: 978-1-61581-678-1 (E-book) Contemporar..."

SJD Peterson - Book Appreciation: MORNING REPORT BY SUE BROWN

SJD Peterson - Book Appreciation: MORNING REPORT BY SUE BROWN: "Description: A decade on from their first kiss, Luke Murray is more in love with Simon every day. Running the Lost Cow ranch for Luke’s ..."

I'm elsewhere

I'm with the lovely SJD Peterson on her blog today. Please visit me.

Monday, 30 May 2011

Saturday, 28 May 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

This weeks Six Sentence Sunday comes from my book, Prey Time.

Jeff takes a long swallow of water, tilting his head
back as the cool liquid passes down his throat. Even
from here he can see Green Eyes lick his lips, bending
down to whisper something to his companion, who nods
in agreement. He waits to see what they do. If they want
him, and yeah, they want him, he'll play, but first they
have to ask nicely. Pouty looks ain't gonna cut it.
Blue Eyes makes the first move, grabbing Green
Eyes' hand and pulling him over to Jeff's patch of floor.

Friday, 27 May 2011

Welcome To Tinnean

Over the next few weeks I am sharing my blog with many talented authors. Today I welcome Tinnean, author of Bless Us With Content. She has been kind enough to answer my questions and share an excerpt of her book published by Dreamspinner.

How did you get started writing?

I've always loved writing, but back in the day, using a regular typewriter or a pen and paper made it really difficult to revise. With the advent of our second computer and the discovery of copy and paste, writing became so much easier.
In 1999 a friend introduced me to the TV show, La Femme Nikita, and that led to writing het fanfiction. Frankly, I didn't know there was any other kind. I know, totally clueless. It makes me weep.

Was there a particular author or book that made you decide you wanted to write in the genre?  If so, who or what was it?

In the fall of '99, my friend, Silk, came across slash and shared this wonder with me. Pretty boys doing hot things to each other? Oh, yes! *cough* Anne Higgins wrote a Batman/Robin fic that spoiled me. I thought all stories would be that hot, and I was disappointed when I realized that of course they all couldn't be. However, it was an actor, Matthew Ferguson, who portrayed Seymour Birkoff in LFN, who was the reason behind me writing my first slash story. We found one of his movies, Love and Human Remains, and Silk challenged me to write a story using the characters of Kane and David. (That was Poor Little Rich Boy. If I'd realized I was going to make a series of it, I'd have chosen a better title.) At any rate, after that het was pretty much a thing of the past.

Where do you write? Does your environment have an impact on what or how you write?

For the most part I much prefer either the computer room or the lanai. And since I live down here in Florida, I write in the computer room in the winter (baby, it's cold outside!) (don't laugh, for us 40 is cold!), and in the summer I'll write out on the lanai. Of course at that point the ceiling fans will be going, and that helps cool things off. But no, it doesn't impact what I'll write. I'll just keep slogging away.

What do you love most about writing?  What do you hate about it?

I love when the words flow. This happens periodically with the novel I'm working on now. My MC is majoring in mortuary science as a nod to my older son, but he told me Anatomy for Embalmers didn't involve dissecting a cat, as Anatomy and Physiology did, as I'd planned on having Ty do. So here I was with this really neat scenario in mind, and I couldn't use it. I decided to have Ty's friend Jimmy come visit and tell him what happened to him because he was taking Anat and Phys. When I put that in, this part of the story took off! It went from there to a vampire knocking on the door to another being attacked in Ty's front yard, and set up an eventual confrontation with the bad vampire.
Conversely, I hate when the story stalls and no matter what I do, it refuses to move. This happened with Bless Us With Content. I knew where I wanted it to go and that Ash and Geo needed to have sex at that point. But I also had other scenes to write, so I jotted a note to myself: Add sex scene here. Big mistake. Every time I reached that point, the story came to a screeching halt. It took me two years to work around that, and in the end the sex scene never made it to the page.
(The thing about writing, though, is to write and keep writing.)

How did you come up with the title?

Originally this was going to be called No More a-Roving, (I thought it was a good idea at the time. ::smiles wryly:: ) but in my research I came across the Robert Burns poem, A Grace Before Dinner, which ended with the line, Lord, bless us with content. ('happiness' – one of my beta readers thought I meant 'substance' and so couldn't make heads or tails of what I intended.) That just struck me as the perfect title for this story, since there was really very little content  in Ash's life. (and I plan to use No More a-Roving for Geo's story.)

Can you tell us about your main character?

Ash is a good man, an honourable man, who can be hurt emotionally more easily than others realize. Due to the circumstances surrounding his arrival at Laytham Hall after the drowning deaths of his parents, none of the family (including other orphans who were brought to Fayerweather) or the house servants or even the neighbours sees him as anything other than an obnoxious, annoying brat.  After his uncle's death, he has the thankless task of pulling the family from the River Tick. Never once does he consider shirking his duty, and because of this he winds up in Geo Stephenson's bed. Not that that's anything he objects to too strenuously. *g*

How did you develop your plot and characters?

I've loved stories involving legendary family jewels and wanted to write something about what might happen if that jewel went missing. I developed the backstory for the Laythams and the Flame and how it came to belong to them. The hardest part was deciding on what period in history to place it in, since I needed a well-known event the Hood brothers could be involved in. I toyed with the Civil War and Custer's Last Stand before settling on the Alamo. Once I had that date (1836) I worked backward and came up with birthdates, and then looked for events that would affect them all i.e. the Battle of Waterloo, that cholera epidemic, what was occurring on the Continent at the time Sir Eustace and Lady Cecily were married – could they take their bride trip there?
As for the characters themselves, I made a list of who would be included – family members, servants, neighbours, friends/lovers and made note of physical characteristics. Quite often a point would come up in the plot and another character would enter the playing field, and I'd go back and enter information about them. They might never make another appearance, but then again, they might.  (I'd never intended for Robert Hood to have a fiancĂ©e, but then there she was, and after he left Fayerweather, Ash had to worry if he would be sued for breach of promise.)

What are you working on at the moment?

A number of stories. The gay vampire novel I mentioned, a few stories in my Mann of My Dreams universe, which is up on CRVBoy (http://www.crvboy.org/stories/tinnean/s003/t01.html . I intend to use them as freebies.) And one final fanfic for a friend's e-zine, if I can get the guys to cooperate.

To date, what has been the best advice or words of encouragement you've received?

"I don't see how you got from there to here." Gail Morse, who beta's for me, told me that back in '00 when I was writing a Maltese Falcon fanfic. "But that's what happened in the book/movie," I protested. "Sorry, but I don't see it here." Fanfic can make things easy, but you still need to do the work. I wound up scrapping the entire chapter and rewriting it. It's wonderful getting emails full of squeeing, but a writer needs someone who'll be honest with him/her and who s/he trusts in order to become the best s/he can be. I value this advice above all else.

What are three things about you that would surprise your fans?

1.     I'm a grandmother. I actually started writing No Matter What the Future Brings, my Casablanca fic, on the drive home from Philadelphia after the birth of my granddaughter.
2.     Occasionally I'll put friends in a story. I started writing Friends and Lovers, my first novel, as a way to cheer a friend who had a bad cold.
3.     I wrote my very first fanfiction when I was in the 7th grade, more years ago than I care to remember. At the time I didn't realize it was fanfiction. I just loved the movie I'd seen and didn't want it to end. :: smiles ::

Where can we find you on the web?
And my earlier works can be found at http://www.angelfire.com/fl5/tinnssinns/Welcome1.html

Tinnean's Bio:

I've been writing since the 3rd grade. At that time I was inspired to try my hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn't survive the passage of time; however, my love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school I became a member of the magazine staff, where I contributed a number of stories. 

It was with the advent of the family's second computer – the first intimidated everyone – that my writing took off, enhanced in part by fanfiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.

While involved in fandom, I was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now I concentrate on my original characters.
I'm what you might call a hopeful romantic, and if you see my name on a story, it will have a happy ending.
A New Yorker at heart, I reside in SW Florida with my husband and two computers.

Blurb for Bless Us With Content:

Ashton Laytham came to Fayerweather, his uncle's estate, as an orphan at the age of seven. Family and servants alike perceived Ashton as an unlovable child and shunned him; as an adult, the occasional illicit rendezvous aside, Ashton remains aloof and alone. When his uncle dies, yet more abuse falls upon Ashton's shoulders: the estate is bankrupt and Ashton must make good on his uncle's gaming debts.

With the family talisman stolen and the suspects fled, Ashton faces certain ruin until the arrival of Geo Stephenson, who holds all of Sir Laytham's IOUs. Geo proposes a solution: Ashton will accommodate him in his bed, thereby paying off the debt. Attracted to Geo in spite of himself and desperate for any human kindness, Ashton agrees... never expecting to lose his heart to a man who claims he will never give his.

Buy Link: 


There was a tap on the study door, and Colling entered. "Forgive me for intruding, Sir Ashton. There is someone here to see you." He handed me a card.

I replaced my spectacles and took the rectangular piece of cardboard. 'George Stephenson, Esq.'

"Are you sure he does not wish to see Aunt Cecily?" He was an old friend from the days when she had taken the Town by storm, having been a diamond of the first water, and he would visit Fayerweather whenever he was sure Sir Eustace was from home. A widower with one son, he would beseech Aunt Cecily to run away with him each time he came to see her. He always claimed it was in jest, but being unhappily in love at the time myself, I could recognize it in another.

"He asked for you, sir. I have put him in the conservatory."

"Very well." The conservatory was not my most favorite room, since I found the scent of the flowers that grew in riotous profusion within its confines cloying at times, but Aunt Cecily had a fondness for it, and often sat there with Mr Stephenson when he visited. "Thank you, Colling. Please tell Mr Stephenson I will join him shortly. Mr Kirkby, perhaps we can continue this conversation at another time?"

"Of course. I'm sorry I do not have better news for you, Sir Ashton. However, I must say the farms are in far better condition than I had dared to hope. At least there is that, as puzzling as it might be." Mr Kirkby gathered his papers and shook my hand. "I will continue to study your uncle's affairs, and will return some time next week to let you know how things stand."

"Thank you, Mr Kirkby." I followed him out and saw him to his gig in the courtyard before reentering the Hall once more and hurrying to the study to retrieve my coat. It wouldn't do to appear in my shirt sleeves.

Why would Mr Stephenson wish to see me? Whenever he visited he had never shown any liking for me, much preferring the company of the Hood brothers.

Surely he had not come to me as head of the family to sue for Aunt Cecily's hand! So soon after Uncle's passing would cause a scandal none of us would live down.

There was no point in putting this off, I thought impatiently. I detested confrontation, but I would simply have to be firm.

I swallowed, trying to come up with a graceful turn of phrase that would not make it seem as if I was denying his suit out of hand and because I knew he disliked me.

The conservatory was toward the rear of the house, and I made my way there, opened the door, and stepped into the room.

For a moment, I thought the room unoccupied. Had Mr Stephenson grown impatient and left? The only sign that someone had been there was the Benjamin flung carelessly, almost proprietarily, over the back of the settee.

A slight sound drew my attention to the French windows. The afternoon sun poured through them, leaving the man who stood before them, gazing out toward the gardens that were Aunt Cecily's pride and joy, in bas relief.

I approached him warily. "Mr Stephenson? Pray forgive me for the delay. I was with my man of business, and I did not want to come to you in my shirt sleeves. I understand you wished to see me?"

"Lovely view from here." The unexpected voice, a pleasant baritone, caused me to start. He turned, and I beheld quite the most handsome man I had ever seen.

"You are not George Stephenson!"

"I am, actually. However, the George Stephenson with whom you are acquainted is my father. To distinguish between the two of us, I am called Geo, by my friends."

I felt the queerest sensation in my chest so that I barely paid any heed to the slight emphasis on 'friends.' Mr Stephenson the senior had often spoken of his son, regaling Aunt Cecily with tales of his adventures, and I had been fascinated. I'd hoped he would one day bring the young man with him, but Mr Stephenson the younger was frequently out of the country, having followed his father into His Majesty's Civil Service.

Now he stood here, leaning casually on his walking stick. I let my eyes feather over his elegant figure, then glanced away before he could see my interest. Stephenson was beautiful, with classical features, curly blue-black hair and a body that looked fit and solid although I knew him to be at least six years my senior. The dark frock coat he wore with fawn trousers was set off by that ivory-headed walking stick.

My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard, startled by my reaction.

In the four years since I had taken John Hood to my bed, there had been no one else. I'd thought, foolishly as it turned out, that if perhaps he realised how faithful and steadfast I was… Of course, it was for naught, for he loved his brothers more than ever he would love me.

I shook myself out of my reverie, fretting that while my trousers were not quite as form-fitting as the current fashion decreed, they were still snug enough so that concealing my interest was somewhat difficult.

"May I offer you tea?" I went to the bell-pull to summon Colling. "Perhaps something stronger?"

"Thank you, no. Your butler already offered, and I declined."

"Very well, then. What may I do for you, Mr Stephenson?"

His look was pensive. "You may pay me my money."

"Your money?" I repeated stupidly, my body losing all interest. "I beg your pardon?" That was not at all what I'd expected him to say.

He took a fistful of notes and vowels from his pocket and offered them to me.

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Nothing Ever Happens fanvid

I was trawling through Google when I found a fanvid had been made for Nothing Ever Happens. I'm thrilled and absolutely stunned.

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

The Fitzwarren Inheritance

I think it's about time I did some promotion for The Fitzwarren Inheritance, a trilogy written by Chris Quinton, R.J Scott and myself, published by Silver.

I am going to start with The Psychic's Tale, written by Chris Quinton which comes out on 4th June 2011. If you ever need a curse, Chris is your woman. She is scarily good at curses which chill your bones.

Buy link is here


"I curse you and your children's children, that you shall all live out your allotted years, and that those years shall be filled with grief and loss and betrayal, even as you have betrayed and bereaved me."
Four hundred years ago in rural England, a mob burned two men to death, but not before one of them, Jonathan Curtess, hurled a dreadful curse at the mob's leader, Sir Belvedere Fitzwarren. The curse has followed the family through the centuries, bringing grief and loss to each generation.
Mark  Renfrew is a closeted psychic and openly gay. When his grandmother discovers a family link to a 17th century feud and a still-potent curse, she insists he investigates and do his best to end it. When he travels to the village of Steeple Westford, he meets and falls for Jack Faulkner, an archaeologist. He also meets the Fitzwarrens, who are facing yet another tragedy.
Then Mark learns that the man who cursed them had twisted the knife by leaving three cryptic conditions that would lift the curse, and he knows he has to try to break the curse his ancestor had set.


Mark finished reading the page, then closed the small leather-bound book and pushed it away from him. "Where did you find this?" he asked, interested despite the unease in his gut.

"I found it in the Records and Resources section of Branches. It's an online genealogy site," his grandmother added helpfully. "It's amazing what you can find on the Web."

"No argument there. Okay, so we're descended from this Curtess bloke," he said, taking off his glasses and dropping them into his shirt pocket. "But I don't see what it's supposed to do with us." Alice didn't say anything. Just pursed her lips and glared, a surprisingly effective tactic despite her round cheerful features framed by untidy curls of thick white hair. "I wish you'd never started this genealogy craze. Just let it go."

"I can't. We can't." Her green eyes blazed with crusading zeal, and Mark groaned quietly to himself. "An injustice was done," she continued, "and nothing can repair the damage it's already caused. But it has to end. If I could walk farther than the end of the street, I'd do it myself. I can't, so it's up to you."

"Don't be ridiculous." Even as he said it, Mark knew he was wasting his breath. Once his grandmother got the bit between her teeth, she took off like a metaphorical racehorse--or in this case, a warhorse--and it would take an Act of God to deflect her. Sometimes he regretted introducing her to the Internet, especially when she started hunting down records of ancestors and discovering some interesting characters. The Renfrews, it seemed, were descended from an infamous warlock. Or witch. Or sorcerer...

"I looked them up in the phone book. The Fitzwarrens still live in Steeple Westford, and the curse is still working. I found the archive site of the local paper, and Sir Charles Fitzwarren and his eldest son were killed in a car crash ten years ago. A tree fell on them in that terrible storm. No one found them until the next day. Poor souls."

"Gran, accidents happen. Uncle Harry died falling off a ladder. Dad was pissed as a newt and drove his car into a tree. No one had cursed them as far as I know."

She took no notice, just carried on over him. "Sir Charles left a wife, three sons and a daughter. Since then, the next eldest boy has died of leukaemia, and soon after that, their mother took an overdose. You have to do something, Mark." Two pairs of green eyes locked gazes and glowered at each other. Mark looked away first, a wry amusement twitching his lips.

"Yes, Gran," he sighed, humouring her. "What, exactly? How am I supposed to break a centuries old curse that's probably made up out of whole cloth by an enterprising yokel to impress the tourists?"

"How would I know?" Alice snapped. "All I can do is interpret dreams and field the occasional premonition. You're the high-powered psychic. You work it out!" She never referred to him as a medium, preferring the more general term for some reason she didn't seem to feel obliged to properly explain. "Pass me my knitting and make me a cup of tea, there's a dear. And help yourself to the fruit cake. You're too skinny! Even your boyfriends say so."

That complaint reared its head every time he visited. "They do not!" Mark protested. "Paddy said I had interesting bones, that's all, and I haven't been with him for over a year."

"Exactly!" she said triumphantly.

"He was talking about my face," he reminded her. "He's a professional photographer, so I'll take it as a compliment."

"Too skinny," Alice insisted. "If you ever relaxed and stayed still long enough to sunbathe, they could use your ribs as a xylophone, and I'm still waiting for that tea."

Muttering under his breath, Mark retreated to the small kitchen and busied himself with kettle and teapot. No teabags for Alice Renfrew. Oh, no. Had to be Twinings Darjeeling loose-leaf tea brewed in her Royal Doulton teapot and drunk from a mismatched Royal Doulton cup and saucer. He smiled affectionately as he waited for the kettle to boil. At eighty-six, Alice lived in a warden-assisted ground floor flat in Wilton and, on good days, tottered with her walker frame as far as the nearby post office. On bad days she used her Broomstick, the scarlet mobility scooter that had inspired the local kids to grant her the nickname of Hell's Granny. But, frail though her plump body might often be, her mind and her wit were still sharp. Most of the time. He visited Alice once a month, staying for a few days to do any odd jobs she needed and driving her out to her favourite haunts. It was no hardship.

Alice had been an anchor and safe harbour most of Mark's life. For as far back as he could remember, his father had spent most of his waking hours in a whisky bottle. Edward Renfrew had died when Mark was ten, when Mark's own psychic ability had begun to show up with unsettling frequency. His mother couldn't cope with either event. By the time Mark reached fourteen, he'd become pretty sure he was gay, and that proved the final straw for Sally. She could not, would not, accept it. She had simply walked out of his life, married her long-term boy toy and moved to Spain. Twelve years on, the only times he had any contact from her were cards every Christmas. Saccharinely pious, religious cards.

"I'm serious, you know," Alice called, jolting him out of his reverie. "You have the Renfrew Talent, even stronger than your dad--"

"And he drank himself to death because of it," Mark interrupted.

"Only because he wouldn't use it! Poor Ed..." She heaved a sigh loud enough to be audible even in the kitchen. "He fought it. You don't."

He didn't respond to that. He used the uncomfortable gift, yes, but from deep cover. He was a research assistant for the Bristol-based Goldstream Media and its main product, the highly successful and critically slated, The Dominic Waldron Experience. The paranormal reality show would descend on a given setting with phenomena-detecting gizmos and cameras, and Waldron would reveal the ghostly apparitions and their stories to an awestruck audience. Contrary to his publicity, Waldron was about as psychic as a wet paper bag. Mark wasn't. He found the sites, found the names and dates from the restless dead, did the conventional research and passed it on to his immediate boss, who presented it to the star and got together with the script writers to produce the scripts for him. And none of them knew why or how Mark was so very good at rooting out all the obscure information. Exactly the way Mark liked it.

The kettle whistled, and he warmed the pot before spooning in the leaves and filling it up. Letting it stand for the requisite four minutes, he thought about the Reverend Simpkins' old book. Steeple Westford was about fifty-five miles away from his home-base in Bristol, and a ten-minute drive from here in Wilton. If the story had some basis in fact, it might make a good venue for a future show. He could kill two birds with one stone. So to speak. It wouldn't be that far out of his way to do an initial reconnaissance while heading back home tomorrow, and it wasn't as if he had anyone to go home to these days. Mark pushed his fingers through hair as thick and untidily curling as his grandmother's. He had inherited the Renfrew mane, that wouldn't answer to styling, and the chestnut colour, more than brown and not quite auburn. He probably wouldn't go bald with age, but he would almost certainly be prematurely grey. Just like Alice.

"So this is one of your premonitions?" he asked.

"Yes. A strong one."

Mark gave in to the inevitable. "Okay, Gran, I'll look into it," he said. "But I'm promising nothing."

Friday, 20 May 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

I'm putting up my Six Sentence Sunday early as I'm away over the weekend. This is from my book Nothing Ever Happens when the lads face off.

“Just making it clear to you that if you even think about getting your bat polished again, it isn't going to be from my boy.”

“That's the thing, isn't it, Gary? He isn't your boy anymore. You've lost your fuckbuddy just like I have.” Nathan turned to give Gary a vicious smile.

“Have you two finished your pissing contest?” Andrew asked icily, his lips thin and pale.

Friday Fun with SammyJo Hunt

I have a very special guest on my blog today. SammyJo Hunt is a wonderful friend of mine and I have a personal interest in A Wicked Encounter, as she goes onto explain.

Welcome to Friday Fun, SammyJo.

1.      1.   What is a typical day like for you?  A typical day includes a bit of writing, and a lot of research and homework for grad school. As much as I wish it were the other way around, school still comes first, even though I'd much prefer to write and get lost in my romantic fantasies and stories. I live alone with my cat, and besides taking care of him, or running across town to help my aging mother, I'm pretty much on my own to write and do homework. Work at present is writing romance stories. I'm sort of married to my computer and live online for both school and work. Writing has become a secondary career for me for the past couple of years now while I've been in graduate school, and requires dedication and commitment to follow through on the projects and stories I start. Nevertheless, its a creative outlet for me away from clinical therapy and textbooks, and I love that I can feel so passionate and inspired about writing hot romantic stories.

2.  What inspired you to write your latest book?  LOL! You know the answer to this question as well as I do, Miss Sue. We were having a discussion on plot suggestions during the summer of 2010 and you said to me, “How about coach sex in a storm?” It’s really quite amusing, because with you being from the UK and me from the USA, I interpreted your suggestion to mean exactly that, a sexual encounter between two hot men in a stage coach from the 1800s.

After talking further, you clarified to me you meant an encounter on a bus or a traveling motor coach. It was just the difference in the two dialects native to our countries. But by then, the idea was already firmly in my mind and the plot was expanding like wildfire. I couldn’t get it out of my head, and the story was already taking shape.

I was already picturing a stormy night on a lone road in the middle of the English countryside in the dark of night, an accident, and a smaller, handsome aristocratic man being injured and then rescued by a larger, dark, handsome man of imposing stature. That’s how Christopher’s character was born. As I wrote the first scene, when Evan appeared after the accident, he was just very clearly there in my mind’s eye. He was tall, with long, raven-black hair, and piercing blue eyes. It all just fell into place after that, and their hot romance kick-started what turned out to be an epic tale of love and forgiveness. I loved writing this story and hope to one day write more Regency-style romances.

3.       How did you feel when you saw your first acceptance letter?  It was totally surreal and it made me feel all tingly with excitement. I might have squealed out loud in a fit of momentary giddiness, LOL! It was and is a marvelous feeling to know my writing is good enough to merit publishing.

4.       What do you love and hate most about writing? I love the free license to be creative, and to bring to life with words the visions and stories which unfold in my head. I love communicating that world to my readers, where those who read my stories can escape somewhere else for a little while. As far as what I hate about it, I don't really hate anything about the writing process. Its all very interesting and fascinating to me, as well as comes easily to me. Perhaps the one thing I dislike the most is an equal weight shared between those times when I get writers block and can't move forward in a story until I solve some issue or dilemma; and then too, I dislike the editing process. I don't think there's a writer alive that enjoys editing his or her work. *grins*

5.       Do you have a ritual to get you ready to write?  Something special you do to psyche you up? No. I just sit down and once an idea is in my head I just start writing. The story usually flows easily and quickly. I like that. Occasionally, when I need clarity, I’ll write down a brief outline to give me direction, but usually, everything is just right there in my head.
6.       How do you get past writer’s block?  When I get stalled, I usually just give it a rest until the words begin flowing again. It happens to all of us now and then. I’m definitely no exception to that experience. Usually, I just take time away for a few hours or even give writing a rest for a few days. When the words come back and the ideas begin to flow, I sit down and get busy again. Its an interesting process how that whole 'flow of ideas' thing seems to work for me.

7.       Do you have a pet?  Yes, as I mentioned earlier, I have one cat, a male, gray striped Tabby. His name is Bugg. I gave him that name because he is the most vocal animal I've ever had. He talks to me all the time in cat language. Sometimes he drives me crazy with his meowing. He's actually the smartest of all the cats I've owned. I've had a cat of my own ever since I was 7 years old and have never been without a pet. I'm a cat person. I like small dogs, but cats are much less work. So I gravitate towards them. Also, cats, though they make noise, don't bark! LOL! So yes, he's a great buddy and keeps me company. He's got a sweet personality that makes his incessant talking worth putting up with. *giggles* Sometimes, if it weren't for him talking to me, I'd never say anything living alone. So its good he's there to keep me on my toes.

8.      What is your writing process like?  How long does it take you to finish a story from beginning to end? As I mentioned before, once I have an idea firmly in my head, I sit down and start writing. The story just comes to me as the characters and events unfold inside my head. On occasion, I do have a brainstorming session with someone such as yourself, or another close friend who either writes or enjoys reading the same genre I write. That's often helpful to spur ideas for a new story. 

      Aside from the actual conceptualization of the story, writing each new story is different for me. Sometimes a story comes so quickly that it nearly seems to write itself. I wrote an entire 71,000 word novel in under 4 weeks last year. Then there are other times when it takes a month just to write 20,000 words because of writer's block and the like. It really just depends upon the story and what its about, as to how well and quickly it unfolds. It also has to do with time available to write. With being in school, that also takes up a good deal of my time.

9.      What currents projects do you have on the go?
Currently, I’m celebrating my first book release for A Wicked Encounter released through Silver Publishing. It’s a m/m erotic Regency-historical romance. You can find it on Silver’s website, Amazon.com, Goodreads.com, and other well-known romance eBook sites. I've provided some links at the end of this interview.

In addition to that, I’m now under contract for two new books. The first is another novel with Rebel Ink Press. It’s due out on or before Sept. 1st this year, and is entitled Haunted by Obsession. It’s a contemporary, m/m paranormal erotic ghost story and murder mystery. I’ve always loved nostalgic old ghost stories, and just had to write one with a hot, m/m twist on it.

The other project I’m really honored and excited to be working on is the anthology which you are also a part of, entitled Chasing The Dream. This will be published through my first house, Silver Publishing, and is a joint project with yourself and several other amazing writers. This book will include short stories from Patricia Logan, Lisa Worrall, GA Hauser, and you and me. The five of us have contracted with Silver to each write a m/m short story of some sort following the theme of the title.

I’ve already written mine, and have been privy to both Patricia’s and GA’s stories. They are fantastically hot. I can’t wait to see how readers like this new book. The scheduled release date for our full length novel of compiled stories will be Sept. 17th this fall. That book will be available in both eBook and print copy formats, and will actually be my first printed book. I’m so excited and pleased to be part of this project, and cannot wait to hold the finished product in my hands. So, in regards to both books, as well as two other writing projects currently in the works, I’ll keep you updated as things progress.

10.  Tell me about your ideal man – for your books of course.  For most of my stories, there is a common theme which tends to reoccur. My main male character is always tall, lean, beautifully sculpted in the physical sense, but not muscle-bound, and has jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. There are several famous men in real life which I identify with, which all have those similar characteristics. In addition to physical looks and a strong, very dominant, alpha-male presence, my main character is always someone who has a great capacity to love his partner, is noble and honest, and at the heart, a very good man.

      He's someone I'd want to have in my own life personified through my stories, if I ever found the man of my dreams. He's someone that's not perfect, has a tendency to react in anger, but willing to apologize for his follies. That to me, is an ideal man:  someone who behaves realistically. And of course, he's always a very passionate man, sure of himself, what he wants, and a capable,  tender, yet intense lover. I think many of us are searching for just that man or that partner in our own lives. So, until I, and all my readers find him or her, I'll write stories about someone that resembles what our collective hearts are searching for.

Please provide me with links to find you and your books (Publisher/ARe and Kindle. Plus lovely big cover photo for me to put on my blog.

If you’d like to purchase your own eBook copy, go here to buy:

You can find SammyJo Hunt at the following websites:
Personal Website and Blog address-  http://sammyjohunt.livejournal.com


Review of Nothing Ever Happens

I was thrilled to get a wonderful review of Nothing Ever Happens over here.

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

A teaser for Morning Report 2

Another first chapter, this time for the second book in the Lost Cow Ranch series. I'm posting this to force me to get it finished. Enjoy.

Draft Chapter 1 Morning Report 2

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Hello, this is my first inclusion for Six Sentence Sunday. It is the end of the first part of my cowboy book, Morning Report.

“Don't you dare come until I tell you, y'understand?”

Luke nodded, still not being given permission to speak, but the anticipation was almost killing him.

“I love you,” Simon whispered as he did every morning when Luke was silenced. It drove Luke mad not being able to respond, which was, of course, why the bastard did it.

All he was allowed to do was try to keep standing as Simon pounded him toward an explosive orgasm, unable to hang onto anything, unable to make a sound, unable to come until he was given permission.

Because, yeah, Luke might be the boss of the Lost Cow ranch, but in the “office,” in here, Simon was most definitely in charge. Luke fucking loved morning report.


Jean Joachim: WHAT THE CRITICS ARE SAYING...: "Welcome to the first in my new weekly feature, what the critics say. I will be posting reviews of romance books here once a week. Today we b..."

Sugar on my Saturday

A little enticement into the word of my WIPs.

The first one is Final Admission, which actually started life as a novella. When complete it will be three novellas hopefully published as one novel. This is part of the first chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Three weeks into his new job, Ethan's introduction to James Trenchard is via his co-workers description. James Trenchard is a dick and everybody knows it. Ethan is prepared to take everyone at face value but after a first meeting he will never forget, Ethan definitely agrees with them, until he learns James is hiding a secret, and one that no one would ever believe.

Final Admission

Trip Around the World: Mega Author Blog Hop: Ticket to Paradise

1)  HAVE FUN!!!
3)  THIS TOUR STARTS:  Monday, May 16, at Midnight    THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, May 23, at Midnight

Welcome to London at night time. I'd like to welcome you to the London of my story, The Night Porter.

In my story, the night porter, Max, takes Robert on the London Eye at sunset. Max is a romantic, and he wants to show Robert a truly magical part of London. I take all my guests on the Eye just as the sun is setting. There is something about seeing the city light up as you slowly rise over the London skyline, that you don't get during the day.

We get in the queue and just as the colours are turning from blue to pink to gold, we start our journey. If we look left we can see the Houses of Parliament with Big Ben. By the time we've finished it, the building is golden in the dark night sky.

Behind us is the IMAX

And if you look to the right you can see the Thames snaking away in the distance with Canary Wharf in the distance so I have to put in a picture of a Dalek. 

I have a competition to say thanks for visiting me. Please leave a comment here to go in the draw and two people will have a PDF copy of either Nothing Ever Happens or Morning Report.


Please make sure to tell your friends about us and take the whole tour during 16th to 23nd May. There are lots of awesome prizes to win. KAY SPRINGSTEEN is taking you to Yellowstone Park next. Have lots of fun xxx

Daily Inspiration: Threesome3

Daily Inspiration: Threesome3: "Found here Nice sandwich."

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

The World I Live In

It occurred to me today what a twilight world I inhabit at the moment. I spend as much of my time as I can writing about gay men, reading about gay men, and looking at pictures of men (gay or otherwise). If I follow news stories, it's as likely to be some form of homophobia in America as the latest political news at home. I talk to other authors about the same world... guys, I'm sorry about the 'dick' thread, I was bored... and my kids wonder if I'll ever write a book with a man and a woman. Um, no, kids, sorry. No puppies or dinosaurs either.

In a way it's like having a baby. Your world is totally subsumed by the small, poopy, squalling creature that wakes you up at night and needs feeding constantly. Yes, writing is just like that.

I sometimes wish that I inhabited the world of serial killers rather than gay romance. I have a feeling my real life suburban friends wouldn't make such a face when I try to discuss it. But I have learnt so much more about me, I have made friends all around the world and even met some of them. I have discovered I have a small skill doing something I love and I get paid for it. I can't complain really.

Monday, 9 May 2011

IT'S RAINING MEN: Where are all the Gay Interracial Romances

An interesting topic for me as I am writing a book with an interracial couple.

IT'S RAINING MEN: Where are all the Gay Interracial Romances: "Greetings readers and welcome to another edition of Manlove Monday at IRM. This is Rawiya, one of the member's of the Triad of muses, Mich..."

Prey Time

Buy link here

$1.99 for sex.... I'd like to give you more plot, but there isn't any.

Blurb: Two men are checking Jeff out before he even enters the club. They're a real pretty picture, Blue Eyes with his back pressed against Green Eyes' chest as they watch him get a drink. He waits to see what they do. If they want him, he'll play, but first they have to ask nicely. Jeff is the top, the one in control. Except Jeff soon finds out he isn't. The little man with the snapping blue eyes is definitely the puppet master here.

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Hair today

Do you like hair on your men? Does running your fingers through the pelt on his chest send happy shivers down your spine? Are you like me and can wax eulogies on the joys of the happy trail, rather than actually waxing. What about under the arms, and the groin area? Do you like neatly trimmed, bushy or the plucked chicken look?

Lots of questions there. So what is your answer? Me, I like a man with hair. I strongly disapprove of this trend for manscaping. I don't care how big the guy's muscles are, take away the hair and you take away an essential part of what makes him a man.

I cheer the celebrities who keep their fur; Hugh Jackman, Gerald Butler among those who are brave enough to resist the waxing strips. I have a secret thrill when I discover a star on an 'off' time with a tuft of hair poking out of his shirt. This man is normal, he is not a wax doll.

Apparently removing their hair helps to give their muscles definition. Really? In their armpits and groin too? Yes, please imagine the sarcasm in my tone. It is there. Have you see the plucked chicken look of the skin in close-ups? *shudders* Not pretty.

Start on this argument and it swiftly degenerates into the shudders about back hair and an all-over pelt. Honestly, I don't care. A man is a man and should be shown in all his glory.

Gentlemen, I celebrate your hair. I celebrate the whorls and swirls of it on your skin, and I really like stroking it. What? Every one of us can have a moment.