Guest Post: Tibby Armstrong and Bianca Sommerland

It’s a new year, and my resolution for 2020 is to get back into writing and posting new content here.  (More details on that to come.)

In the spirit of that, today I’m featuring a new release by authors Tibby Armstrong and Bianca Sommerland. Men. Fighting. What’s not to love? Enjoy!

TITLE: Beyond Justice
SERIES: The Asylum Fight Club
GENRE: LGBTQ Romance, Sports Romance
AUTHORS: Tibby Armstrong and Bianca Sommerland
 
BLURB
 
Raised and trained by The Asylum Fight Club’s most infamous owner, Reed Dane is almost untouchable. Might sound dope, but there are disadvantages to his ‘privileged’ status. His guardian’s reputation makes a serious relationship impossible—turns out the club’s members are addicted to breathing—and the one man Reed truly wants sees him only as a stray his former lover brought home.

An endless string of one-night stands lacks the intimacy Reed craves, but at least edgy post-fight hookups distract him from what he’ll never have. Until he takes a wrecking ball to the walls that set him apart.

Curtis Smith is a lot of things—MMA fighter, club owner…son of a drug lord—but one thing he’s not is prepared to face temptation exploding past his carefully built boundaries. Reed is forbidden, to him most of all, but resisting what they both want becomes impossible with the sub challenging him at every turn. And with his past threatening everything The Asylum has been built to protect, Curtis can’t afford to be addicted to Reed’s brand of candy coated sin.

He can’t deny himself one taste before his stolen time runs out. Because when it does, all that will be left behind for Reed is a memory…

And his heart. 
EXCERPT
 

Curtis’s expression darkened, flattening the peaks of his upper lip. He leaned in, to brush his thumb over Reed’s lower lip and examined the sticky residue. Brought it to his mouth and sucked it from his skin. Pushing away from the breakfast bar he went to flip his pancake onto his plate and returned. Tapped two fingers under Reed’s chin to close his mouth. “Eat up.”

Eat. Yeah. He should eat. Then his brain might start working again. He cut another big piece and focused on finishing his breakfast.

“So…” Considering his fork, Curtis chewed and swallowed. “You like the hardcore stuff, or you think it’s the only way to give up control?”

Blinking at the other man, Reed almost choked on the piece of pancake in his mouth. He ducked his head as his cheeks flamed. “Dude, me and you…we don’t talk about this stuff.”

Curtis frowned, head canted, seeming to rifle through his brain for some piece of information, then nodded when he found it. “No, I guess we haven’t. But if you want to, I don’t recall being told I’d be gelded for crossing that particular line.”

“I…” Reed set the tines of his fork against his lips, touching his tongue to it as he stared at the wall over Curtis’s shoulder. “I like letting the Dom decide. Once he does, the rest is easy. Never lasts long enough though.”

“Sounds like the headspace you’re after has very little to do with pain and everything to do with how long you’ve negotiated to give that control over.” Curtis met his stare, unflinching, pushed back his plate and leaned in on his forearm. “It’s not as easy as you’d think to maintain, but when done right it can be pretty amazing.”

Reed nodded slowly. “In case you missed it, I’m more trouble than any Dom wants to take on. But it’s better that way.” He shrugged, picked up his plate and Curtis’s, and brought them both to the sink. “I get to enjoy a bit of everything. And no one’s gotta deal with me being…too much.”

“Is that what’s rolling around in that pretty head of yours? That you’re either not enough or you’re too much?” Curtis had moved behind him. Close behind him. “From where I stand, you’re the Goldilocks of submissives, Reed, and anyone who makes you feel any less isn’t half the Dom you think they are.”

Curving his hands over the edge of the sink, Reed shook his head. He should not be having this conversation. Not with Curtis, of all people. He was still too messed up from the scene which had left him wide open and vulnerable. He’d gotten away from Kovit and Lawson without letting his issues bleed out all over them.

He had to find a way to do the same with Curtis.

His throat tightened as he let out a soft laugh. “I’m the perfect sub. For one night. That’s how I like it. You gotta stop seeing me as some poor…kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I’m a big boy, Curtis.”

Curtis’s hand encircled Reed’s upper arm, tugging him around. “You think that’s what I’m thinking about right now? That you’re a kid? If so, I need to go to jail.”

“For what? You’ve been the perfect ‘Daddy’.” Reed really needed to shut up, but he’d already stepped over the clear line Curtis had drawn long ago. He couldn’t seem to retreat back to the place he’d been assigned that night he’d been dragged home. Covered in glitter, still feeling the rush from the eyes of the crowd on him as he’d danced. The heat that spilled through him when Curtis gave him that look brought him even higher. As though Reed had given those strangers what belonged to him. Reed’s jaw tensed. “If you’re talking about that one time that shall-not-be-discussed, it was a punishment. One Noah should’ve probably given me so you didn’t have it hanging on your conscience.”

Curtis’s eyes had closed partway through Reed’s speech, but they opened now. “I assure you, the pleasure was all mine, brat. And if you had a lick of sense, you’d stop baiting me to do it again now—because I’m certain you’d like to be able to sit in the next decade.” He lowered his lips to Reed’s ear. “I suggest you rethink some things about me, and about you. Because the next time you come to me wanting to be taken in hand, I will gladly oblige.”

Pushing away from the counter, he stepped back, giving Reed room to breathe.

Damn it, why did Curtis have to go and say…all of that today? Today, when Reed had no idea what to do with the implication of his words. Eyes burning, he hugged himself. The very thing he’d wanted more than anything, right there, while the marks from another man still covered him.

“Shit.” Curtis swore softly, reached for him and pulled him in. Cheek resting on Reed’s head, he sighed. “I don’t know how it is I keep fucking up with you but trust me when I say that I don’t want to hurt you.” He laughed, a rough sound. “Not like that. I miss you and me. So, yeah. You name what you want—what you need—and I’ll try to be that for you. But…” Leaning back, he brushed Reed’s forehead with his lips. “Try to remember, I’m fighting with one hand tied behind my back.”

He really didn’t get it. But maybe that was Reed’s fault too.

Tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, he tipped his head back. Despite the pain, having Curtis’s arms around him felt good. Like all the broken pieces were being held together by the other man’s strength, so he didn’t have to cling to them alone.

His lips curved slightly. “You might wanna figure out how to untie it then, ‘cause I’m not gonna ask.” He met Curtis’s eyes. “You’ll know.”

Curtis’s gaze dipped, his attention fixating on Reed’s mouth. Unwrapping his arms from Reed’s body, he brought one hand to the lip of the counter and the other to cup Reed’s face. Lowered his mouth with excruciating care and whispered, “I’m going to hell” against Reed’s lips.

Reed grinned, flicking his tongue over Curtis’s bottom lip. “Not quite yet.”

Slow progress is still progress.

I keep thinking I should update this blog, and then life happens and next thing I know more time has slipped away. I made a post on my Facebook page that I’ll basically reiterate here:  I’m like a little snail now, plodding away with a reduced pool of energy. I have a permanent handicapped placard for parking, I walk with a cane, and I don’t get all the things done in a day that I used to. Such is life now with chronic pain.

Case in point–I think I started this post in April. And now it’s suddenly August. I have brain fog that seems to strike every time there’s a change in the weather, which in monsoon season in Arizona is practically every day. But I want readers to know that I’m still writing, and that I refuse to give up.

Current WIPs:

1.  Third Oddities Book: 72,834 words, but I’m probably going to have to CUT a LOT once I finally finish this. I have to write their journey to even know which parts are important enough to keep.

2. Fae book (paranormal YA M/M):  68,320 words. Starting the climax scene.

3. Deena and the Professor, Part 9: 14,707 as of July 31. I’m writing the wrap-up, and it’s my goal to finish the first draft this month. Next month it’s my goal to edit and prepare it for publication.

I’m sure I had more I was originally going to write here, but for the life of me, I can’t remember any of it. So now I’m going to find a funny cartoon, and post before I lose more time.

Thanks for reading!

Cover Reveal and Preview!

I actually have something real to post today!  I just created the cover for “Deena and the Professor, Part Nine: The Gang’s All Here.”  I’m including this today along with the first 2400 words or so as a preview. I’ll be uploading a shorter excerpt to the currently published “Part Eight” soon, maybe this weekend.

I’m not quite finished writing Part Nine but I’m hoping to complete it this month, to publish in late July or early August. Sorry about the delay–this will be the longest part yet, likely at about 14,000 words or so.  It’s going to be FULL of debauchery, and yes, a gang bang with Deena and seven men.

Enjoy!

Deena Nine v1 200

 

I’m not sure if this is better or worse than being completely naked. Deena stood in Professor Sturm’s kitchen, holding a silver platter with seven mimosas in elegant wine glasses. She wore only a tiny ruffled apron and a French maid’s hat—the ribbons from the bow of the apron tickled her bare ass as she stepped forward, being careful to balance in her high heels on the tile floor.

She passed into the dining room where four men sat at the large walnut table, dressed only in robes, talking freely with each other. At the head of the table was her psychology professor, Alex Sturm, who had arranged this entire weekend of debauchery for her.

My Sir. At least for now. Deena wished she had a spare hand to touch the leather collar around her throat—his collar—to which was attached a leather leash she had purchased for him. At least the collar was tight enough to feel when she swallowed.

“Mimosa, Sir?” She held still as he reached over to take a glass from the tray, his deep blue eyes meeting hers.

A thrill shot through her at the connection, and her heart pounded as he smiled up at her. “Thank you, Deena. How is breakfast coming along?”

“Stephen says the ham and bacon are nearly ready, and the twins are working on the eggs and toast.” At his nod, Deena moved to the next man, a large black fellow with kind eyes. He grinned and took a drink but said nothing.

“If those boys burn the food, make ‘em go last,” the third man in the room, Dirk said in a gruff voice, as Deena served him next. He was seated at the foot of the table opposite the professor. Dirk was older, with long silver hair pulled back into a ponytail and a rugged air to him. He and the professor were the two dominant males in the room; Marcus might be physically larger, but he was soft-spoken and laid back.

The last man at the table was supposedly a close friend of Professor Sturm, though Deena had only met him last night, in the most intimate way possible when he’d joined her bukkake session and come down her throat. Peter Drang was tall, dark-haired, and sported a neat beard that gave him a slightly diabolical appearance. He licked his lips as he took a glass from the tray. “I seem to recall mention of hand feeding your girl today, Alex. Was that right?” He sipped his drink, his eyes still on Deena.

She shivered in anticipation. After the intensity of last night when she’d sucked off all seven men, Sir had said that they’d have a leisurely evening and enjoy breakfast together before today’s “main event.” All of them are going to fuck every hole of mine until none of us can move any more. Just the thought made her pussy ache.

“I did say that,” the professor said, smiling. “Though I do want her to spend some time kneeling by me.” His gaze moved to Deena. “See if the food is ready. Once it is, have the others come sit down and then serve us.” An evil glint sparkled in his eyes. “After you set down all the plates, you are to crawl from guest to guest. Obey whatever they tell you to do unless I tell you otherwise. I hope you’re ready to begin playing.”

He chuckled, and immediately Deena’s hands began to shake with nervous energy. So soon! But I suppose it would be cruel to keep his guests waiting all day. I wonder what they’ll ask me to do first?

“Yes, Sir,” she managed, and it was difficult to walk back to the kitchen because her knees were weak and desire was making everything tingle and come alive. Her nipples had already hardened into stiff peaks.

Upon entering the kitchen, she set down the tray, nodding to the three men bustling about. “Um, the professor wanted to know if the food is ready. If it is, he asks that you all rejoin him in the dining room.” That sounded good, right? At least her voice sounded steady.

Greg stepped back from the plate of buttered toast. Both he and his brother Gary were young, blond, and slightly nerdy-looking with glasses, but they were also both cute as hell. “I’m done. I’m grabbing a mimosa, and I’ll see you there.” He patted Deena on the head on his way out, humming to himself.

“He’s such a bastard. All he had to do was make toast,” Gary griped, stirring the scrambled eggs in the pan and then turning off the burner. “Anyways I’m done too. Put a couple scoops on each plate, Deena. See you soon.” He too grabbed his drink before exiting.

Stephen Kelani, the last man in the room, chuckled as he transferred the bacon from the pan to a plate. He was another cutie, with his tan complexion and boyish features. “Those two crack me up. I take it that Alex is getting ready to start the fun?” He waggled his brows, and even with his robe it was obvious that he was hard.

“Seems so,” Deena said with a giggle, moving in to plate the food. Crazy butterflies danced in her stomach, yet at the same time she couldn’t wait to fulfill everyone’s orders. “Should I be scared of how much I want all this? I can’t even imagine what my family would think of me, doing this kind of stuff.”

“You’re fine,” Stephen said with a reassuring smile as he brought the pan over to the sink. He washed his hands and then came closer to rub her back. “Family never wants to know about sexual activity, but I’ll bet you aren’t the only one who enjoys it. And if you have a higher sex drive, who cares? Enjoy being who you are, Deena. If Alex taught me anything, it’s that.”

That reminded her that Stephen and the professor were close. She paused and turned to face him. “Stephen, you know the professor really well, right? How likely is it that he’ll want to keep me on as his girl long term? Officially, today’s the last item on my list and the end of what he agreed to do with me.”

He stared at her thoughtfully. “Hmm. I’m not sure. You told him that’s what you want, to be with him?”

Deena flushed. “Not exactly. I’ve hinted about it, but I’ve been afraid to actually ask.”

He frowned, not with anger, but with apparent concern. “You should ask him, and soon. He likes you a lot—I can tell by watching him with you. But he gets funny thoughts in his head sometimes about asking for and receiving what he truly wants, and feeling okay about having an actual relationship, you know, since he likes to do the whole group sex thing now and then. You’d be okay with that?”

“More than okay,” Deena confessed, already feeling better. “I’d want that too.” She couldn’t ask Sir in the middle of being banged by six other guys of course, but perhaps after the last guest left, perhaps tonight . . . I’d better ask him then. Before I lose my nerve or the chance to be with him alone.

Stephen grinned, obviously not aware of Deena’s apprehension. “Then you’re perfect together. Good luck.” He kissed Deena on the top of her head and then passed into the dining room, leaving her to finish preparing the plates.

It didn’t take her long, and it kept her busy, which was good. Thinking about a true relationship with Alex Sturm only made her anxious and tugged at her heart strings. I like him so much. If he rejects me, I don’t know what I’ll do. Best to focus on today. I want to have my body tugged. And pounded into. And forced to come, over and over again. She could imagine it so easily, with all the men surrounding her and the professor watching close by.

By the time everything was ready, she’d pushed her fears back and was fired up again to be the star of her own personal porn show. Deena brought the plates out two at a time and placed them in front of each guest until there was only the professor left, and then kneeled as soon as she had put his plate in front of him.

She was ready to do as he’d mentioned, to crawl and check in with each guest, but before she could move, he rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Eat a few bites first, girl. I know you’re working hard this morning.” The tenderness in his voice warmed Deena all over. She eagerly opened her mouth as he fed her some bacon and eggs from his hand. She licked his fingers clean and then he offered her a sip of his drink. It wasn’t merely the alcohol that was making her giddy. It was his attention, the taste of him, and looking up into those gorgeous eyes of his.

Deena sighed happily, and Professor Sturm nodded. “All right. Go ahead and see to our guests.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” The gratitude was heartfelt, and Deena felt sure of herself once more—grounded as Professor Sturm’s girl.

Stephen was closest, so she crawled to him first. He’d allowed his robe to fall open now that he was sitting down, and Deena couldn’t help but stare at his luscious dick. Not too small. And he always tastes of pineapple.

Realizing belatedly that she was supposed to be serving, not enjoying the view, Deena flushed and bowed her head. “Mr. Kelani?”

“Stephen,” he said, and when she looked up again, he winked at her.

“Stephen. How may I serve you?” The formality of her words was both strange and yet seemed right at the same time. Sir always said I’m a natural submissive. Is this what he means?

“Oh wow. When you say it like that, I turn to goo inside.” Stephen fondled himself, looking Deena over. “I’ve always had this fantasy about being sucked off while at a fancy restaurant. In the spirit of that, I’d love to have your pretty mouth on me, sweetie.”

Instantly Deena’s pussy was wet. “Yes Stephen,” she purred, and she couldn’t help peeking over to see the expression on Professor Sturm’s face as she began to crawl under the dining room table. He was watching her with an almost ravenous glint in his eyes, and had stopped eating.

She grinned at him, then ducked under to gently part Stephen’s robe, nudging his hand away from his erection with her nose. He smelled of soap and lust and masculinity, and she loved it. It really is nice having variety once in a while. Hopefully Sir continues to be good with that.

As Deena closed her lips around the fat head of Stephen’s cock, he groaned loudly, scooting his chair forward so that all Deena could see of him was from the waist down. Around her, she was aware of other legs, other cocks that she might be servicing this morning before the professor allowed everyone to fuck her, but her focus was solely on Stephen, on giving him pleasure.

Flicking her tongue along the underside of his shaft, Deena took him deeper, until her nose grazed his pubic hairs. Stephen groaned louder and his legs trembled.

“Eat your breakfast, Stephen. We’re not sitting here all day,” Dirk growled, but there was humor in his tone.

“I think you should also tell us about that new workout plan you’ve been trying lately.” That was from the professor, and it sounded like he was holding back from laughing.

Apparently they were giving Stephen a hard time for his request, forcing him to pretend that he wasn’t receiving a delicious blow job under the table.

“Yeah. I’ve started weight training . . .” Stephen sounded breathy, and he trailed off as Deena began fondling his balls, bobbing her head to suck him tip to root over and over again.

For several seconds, they all forced him to continue speaking, albeit haltingly, as his cock grew even harder and his balls drew up close to his body. Deena suspected he was on the verge of coming, but before he did, the professor spoke again. “Deena, stop. Move onto our next guest.”

Immediately Deena left Stephen and crawled out from under the table, moving on to the next guest, which was Greg. She batted her lashes at him playfully. “How may I serve you?”

“Hm.” Greg grinned, nibbling on a piece of bacon. “Okay—I want to do something a little different. Hopefully this will be okay with your Sir.” He glanced at the professor before continuing. “Go over to the corner and sit with your legs spread open. Then start playing with yourself. I want to watch you get all turned on.”

Heat flooded Deena’s face, as well as other parts of her. She peeked at Professor Sturm to see if he approved, and found him smiling. He arched an eyebrow at her. “Well?”

Deena gulped. “Yes, Sir!” As the other men chuckled, she quickly crawled to the corner where Greg had indicated, and sat her bare ass on the cool wood floor, drawing her knees up and pushing the apron aside to expose her dripping cunt for all to see. Oh God, this is humiliating. But it’s so exciting too.

The laughter changed to murmurs of appreciation, which helped bolster her courage as she trailed a finger down to her folds, parting them to give the men an even better view. When she dared to look around, she found all eyes riveted on her, and more than one guest was fondling himself.

To have such power over them all. What a rush! Biting her lip, Deena flicked her clitoris first, enjoying the sparks of pleasure rushing through her. Then she sank a finger into her depths to explore the slick passage.

She moaned as sensations rocked through her.

“Oh yes. That is unbelievably hot.” Greg was one of the men tugging at his cock, fisting the head as his robe fell open.

Deena nodded emphatically, working a second finger into herself and watching him with as much intensity as he was watching her.

“I’m suddenly not hungry for food anymore,” Marcus declared from the other end of the table, setting down his fork.

“We could always eat later,” Dirk added, shifting in his chair. Deena scissored her fingers to stretch herself—this light play and the talk was only making her hornier, but it seemed wise to prep herself if the professor chose to speed things along. I’m ready for all of them to fuck me right this minute.

2018 Words Review

Ugh, days go by so fast, and these days I never seem to have any time.

As I mentioned in my last blog post. 2018 was a difficult year as well. I still was seeing multiple doctors to try something that would help with chronic pain, still working a job that paid less than half of what I previously made, and then at the end had to deal with an estrangement with my adult (legally, but not really) child. Then in January to even further complicate things, my partner and I were helping to run a conference, and then we pulled a young man out of *his* bad home environment to come live with us in the room my daughter vacated. Oh yes, and I discovered mold in that bedroom, so I had to repair and replace some drywall.

Oi. Busy.

Anyways, writing fell off a cliff. Not only did I have difficulty finding time to write, the muses were basically dead. So below is my sad progress on my works in progress for the year of 2018.

Oddities Book 3: I wrote a total of 11,220 words in 2018, bringing the total to 71,462 words by the end of the year.

Fae Book: I wrote 5470 words in 2018 on this one, bringing the total to 67,132 words. And I’m only at the beginning of the climax scene. I suck.

Ninth Deena Tale: Ugh, this is even worse. This one started the year with 5487 words; I added 6399 words, bringing the total to 11,886 words at the end of the year. This is the one I’m focusing on to finish as quickly as I can, so that I have at least one finished piece in 2019!

Total words written in 2018:  23,089.

Since I started recording (and counting) words, I haven’t had a year that bad, though there were years before 2010 where I didn’t write at all. But man . . . . that’s sad.

I am trying to revive the muses and get writing again, so that at least 2019 can be a better year. I’ll move to working on one thing at a time starting with the Deena tale since that one should be done in under 5000 words. Then the Oddities tale. And then finally, I’ll finish the YA gay paranormal.

My daughter had been reading and giving me feedback on that last one, and had been eagerly awaiting the book’s completion. But then again, she’s not talking to me.

Hopefully that improves this year as well.

 

 

A Silent Epidemic

Oh my God, has it really been since July that I last posted?

I profusely apologize for not posting much in 2018. A lot has happened, and I’m only now able to talk about what’s been going on. I’m currently suffering with not one but two silent epidemics, as well as bleak financial times. These things sap my energy and drain my will to do much more than survive.

The first silent epidemic is chronic pain. I’ve now been to 5 different doctors as well as a chiropractor and physical therapist for what feels like a dagger stuck in my lower back/hip sending shooting pains down my right leg. I went through a few different diagnoses before the final one of “spinal stenosis with sciatica.” It’s due mostly to osteoarthritis and disk herniation, which means it’s not easily fixable. I did a few procedures in 2017 including nerve cauterization to try and deaden nerves (which worked for my left side but made my right side worse), and then more procedures last year, ending with most recently a series of epidural steroidal injections that caused such a severe flare-up that I couldn’t walk for two weeks without the aid of a cane.

Right now I’m taking pain pills and just trying to do physical activity when I can, because I’m pretty much broke. I’m making enough at my day job to pay bills, but that’s about it. I have to work overtime just to have funds for things like food, household supplies, and gas. I don’t have enough for seeing any more doctors or any more procedures.

So that’s the first malady that has taken over my life. The second “silent epidemic” is that on December 3rd, my only child, who turned 18 in August, went to work as normal, and then texted me late in the evening to say she was never coming home again and not to contact her. My world was shattered.

I’d known she wanted to move out, which I’d told her was fine, great even, but I’d told her she needed a plan. She’d wanted to join the military, but then was being hesitant about it, and yet wasn’t showing much interest in applying for college. She and my partner had shared a tumultuous relationship but that had been improving, and she’d said she wanted to work on that as well. She’d also just started dating someone, and had introduced him to us. He seemed very nice.

And then she was gone. She moved in with him (and his mom, actually), and started telling people how she’d been abused. Now I admit I made some mistakes with her, perhaps punishing more often than I liked because she kept doing the same thing over and over again–lying and hiding things. And I feel badly for her because her father and stepmother really were abusive to her, and now she’s very messed up emotionally. But I always tried to communicate openly with her and let her choose things, including punishments. She’d been helping financially, and then suddenly that too was gone. I feel shame, and confusion, and anger, and loss.

A lot of loss.

So recently I’ve been cleaning out her room–she’s still in contact with my mother, so at least I can get some news, and a way to send her belongings to her. I always thought her relationship with me was rock solid, but apparently not. I say this is a “silent epidemic” because apparently adult child estrangement is now a huge thing, not openly discussed, but if you Google it, there’s been studies about how common this new trend has become. I guess nowadays it’s just easier to run away from problems and cut out anything that might difficult to deal with. I’ve had issues now and then with my own mother (she’s a bit of a busybody), but I’d never even think to stop communication with her. I find this trend deeply disturbing on a macro level.

2019 will be a year of rebuilding.

 

(and I will try to get the 2018 recap up soon, though it’s not a lot of words for the year)

 

 

Going Wide

Well, this wasn’t exactly what I expected to do this month, but Amazon sort of forced my hand.

Anyone who has been following kboards lately knows that indie writers have been struggling with Amazon for the last few months for all books enrolled in Kindle Unlimited. Amazon says that an author is paid for each page read and says it has an accurate way to count the pages . . . and then suddenly Amazon admitted that it had been counting pages read from bots scamming the system and the program.

Then Amazon began cutting everybody’s page reads to the point where it became pointless to even be in the KU program. And the funny thing was they cut EXACTLY 50%. I really have to wonder how EXACTLY 50% of my page reads are from bots when I don’t even advertise anywhere, and also how it affected most other indie writers (except the ones with millions of page reads) in EXACTLY the same way.

When they stripped all my reads after May 25, I had enough and asked them to remove all my books from Kindle Unlimited/Kindle Select. That means that now I am free to sell these books across all sellers and platforms.

So for those who have been waiting, these books are now available at Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Apple, and Smashwords, to name a few. Google’s being a bit tougher so that may take a few days. (One note–I have the first Deena/Professor tale up but I’m still working on getting the rest done. I’ll try to have the second one up in a few days.)

And here’s the big news–Smashwords is having their annual eBook sale all July! So grab the following titles at discounted prices, or even free:

FREE:  Deena and the Professor Part One: Corporal Punishment  Deena one v3 thumbnail

The Foreman (Book 1 of the Hard Hat series)                        Back Camera

75% off:  Friday at the 7-Eleven <–only $1.00                                     Back Camera

 

50% off: The New Hire (Book 2 of the Hard Hat series)             51CP7EN9BqL__AA160_

Juliet’s Orders                                                                            juliets orders_thumbnail

 

Enjoy!!

Whirlpools

Years ago when I was first starting my writing career, I used to read Dean Wesley Smith a lot, and I attended one of his workshops at a writing convention. One of the words he used that stuck with me is the concept of “whirlpools” that writers can fall into. These whirlpools represent situations or issues that stop all progress forward and can suck a writer down into oblivion.

I seem to be stuck in a whirlpool right now.  A bunch of monkeys on my back dragged me into it–monkeys with names like “Laid Off” and “Major Paycut” and “Sole Breadwinner.” Not to mention “Chronic Pain,” “Buried By Debt” and “Medically Untreatable.” It’s rather dark in the whirlpool, and it doesn’t help that I’m also trying to support a partner who struggles with anxiety and depression, and a soon-to-be-graduating child with issues of her own. When I try to write, all of that crap invades my head, and I can barely get a word out.

I know this whirlpool is temporary. I’ve already let go of the worry and despair I felt last year while battling the chronic hip pain, and settled into a sort of acceptance of “Okay, so this is the new me. I hurt most of the time and I can only do a few activities each day. Oh well.” And then I try to celebrate each little thing I manage to get done. And the financial situation will also be temporary, because I’m already moving up in the mundane call-center job and one way or another I’ll fight my way back up to a livable wage. Or I’ll sell enough crap to make a dent in that fucking debt. One way or another, I’ll survive.

All of this doesn’t change the fact that I feel bad about not getting the books out faster. It pains me to know there may be readers waiting for Book 3 of the Oddities . . . and it’s not even close to done yet. I’m sorry. I’m working on it, and eventually I will finish the book and get it out there, but I truly regret the delay.

So anyways, here’s the current WIPs as of 4/30/2018:

  1.  A Conspiracy Uncovered (Book 3 of the Oddities series), at 65,850 words, moving into the steady climb toward the climax, and still estimated to be about 95k when complete.
  2. Fae Fortunes (YA M/M paranormal), currently at 64,689 words, just about at the climax scene, maybe ending with 80k??
  3. The Gang’s All Here (Deena and the Professor Part Nine, BDSM serial romance), currently at 8584 words, estimated to be 12k total.