Wednesday Word

pro·cel·lous

[proh-sel-uhs] adjective

stormy, as the sea. 

Now this is a word you'll never see or hear. I challenge you use it in a real life conversation.

Monday Men

What a magnificent moustache! I'm a sucker for well-groomed facial hair.

Sunday Seduction

With a weakness for bossy men and facial hair, Jay is willing to serve up more than just drinks when a handsome stranger with long sideburns walks into his bar. But the object of his desire may be more than Jay can handle.

Warning: light bondage and the blatant misuse of clothing items.

Seduction is a short story with appeal to anyone who liked Last Stop. It can be downloaded free on Goodreads, All Romance eBooks, and Smashwords. I've also uploaded it to Amazon, but not free yet, because to achieve that an author has to jump through hoops and make others do the same.

So I have an appeal to you, dear reader. Please go to the Amazon page of the book. Around one-third down the page click on the "tell us about a lower price" link. In the pop-up select Website (online) and paste one of the following links:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seduction-lou-harper/1112572707?ean=2940044773776
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-seduction-906647-145.html
Put zero for price and shipping costs, and click the Submit Feedback button.
That's it. Thank you!

If the gods of Amazon feel generous, they'll match the price.

Wednesday Word

trumpery |ˈtrəmpərē| archaicnoun ( pl. -eries)attractive articles of little value or use.• practices or beliefs that are superficially or visually appealing but have little real value or worth.adjectiveshowy but worthless : trumpery jewelry.• delusive or shallow : that trumpery hope which lets us dupe ourselves.ORIGIN late Middle English (denoting trickery): fromOld French tromperie, from tromper ‘deceive.’

Monday Men

I have fondness of old things, as the three vintage typewrites on my bookshelves attest. Collecting old photographs, especially snapshots is one of my hobbies. They absolutely fascinate me. That moment of time and place they preserve is like a single line ripped out of a narrative, full of subtext and potential.

So I decided to dig into my collection and use it to celebrate men. There will be no explicit content, because, sadly, I don't own any. Just plain old men, and not even gay. Although if your imagination runs away with you, dear blog reader, I can't stop you. In some cases it doesn't take much, like with these two goofballs:

Sunday Snippet

Today's installment is from Academic Pursuits. The narrator, Jamie, is a self-confessen and unrepentant slut, who often ends up in interesting situation, like in bed with a mostly straight guy. Mixing sex with humor is one of my favorite things to do.

He collapsed onto the mattress, and I on top of him. Eventually, I rolled off. He was hot as a furnace. Hollins turned over and spent some time blinking at the ceiling.

“That was good,” he said at last.

“Well, that’s the general idea. Otherwise, it would be just a lot of fuss for nothing,” I said, propping my head up on an elbow.

He turned his head and blinked at me for a change. “No, I mean really good. I didn’t think it would be. I guess I’m gay then.”

A light flickered on in the post-orgasmic darkness of my brain. I sat bolt upright. “Oh, wow, wow, hold on for a second! You came to me expecting to have bad sex, so you could reaffirm your heterosexuality?”

He had the decency to blush. I got the whole-body effect this time. “Well…I didn’t think of it that way, but basically, yes.”

That got my gall. “First of all, nobody has bad sex with me.”

“Obviously.” The bastard actually rolled his eyes.

“Secondly, you don’t get a gay card that easy. This is college; everyone experiments.”

He frowned at me and was about to say something, but at that moment, the door banged open and Jo burst into the room.

“Hey, Jamie-- Oh, hi, Hollins.”

“Bill,” I corrected her.

“What?”

“He prefers being called Bill.”

“Oh, okay. Hi, Bill,” she said smiling sweetly at Hollins--I mean Bill--who looked like he wanted the bed to swallow him whole. I was getting used to the new rosy tinge of his skin. It suited him well.

“Jo honey, could you give us some privacy?”

“Yes, right! Sorry.”

Jo trotted out, although she forgot to shut the door behind her. Hollins shot out of the bed and started pulling his clothes on.

I tried to ease his discomfort. “You shouldn’t worry about Jo. It’s not the first time she’s found me with someone, and she won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“No, that’s fine. I have…stuff. I should go. See you at school, okay?”

“Okay, Bill. Don’t be a stranger.”

Wednesday Word

crapulent |ˈkrapyələnt|adjective poetic/literaryof or relating to the drinking of alcohol or drunkenness.DERIVATIVEScrapulence nouncrapulous |-yələs| adjectiveORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from late Latin crapulentus‘very drunk,’ from Latin crapula ‘inebriation,’ fromGreek kraipalē ‘drunken headache.’

Sunday Snippet

I've just finished the first draft of a trio of short stories about Denton Mills, a young man with fondness for body piercings, colorful socks, and an unfortunate connection to dead people. So now I'm editing, editing, and editing some more. So far this is what the first paragraph looks like:

Dying sucked hairy monkey balls. Even when you weren't the one doing it. Denton hated running into the final moments of strangers. Unfortunately, he couldn't always help it. This particular street corner had been safe a week before. The oversized man now clutching his chest must have died sometime since last Tuesday. Heart attack. Denton felt an echo of panic sweep through him and had to grab onto a lamppost to keep from tumbling onto the pavement too. He barely had 135 pounds for his 5' 9" frame, yet he could clearly feel the mass of flesh weighing him down, squeezing the life out of him. At least it was over fast. The man stopped breathing and his presence faded away, both from the street and Denton's mind. He shook himself and took a few deep breaths before getting on his way. As he hurried down the street, he took a mental note to avoid that corner for a few months at least--till the trace of fresh death had had a chance to dissipate.

I'm sure it'll change.

Random Ramblings

I lost internet connection for almost a whole day earlier this week, and I hated it. The sad part is, I should've been thankful for the break from forums and other venues of procrastination, and I could still check my email on my phone. Instead I got irritable, and went grocery shopping in a huff. Well, at least I have food in the house now.

It's hard to believe there was once a time without internet, yet I'm old enough to remember it. Hell, I can remember typewriters clearly.

 I rarely comment on reviews, but I have to say I'm very pleased with how Last Stop has been received. Not everyone liked it of course, but the books got good ratings from Joyful Jay, Tam, Smexy Books, Pants Off Reviews, Joyfully Reviewed, and Well Read. Reviews are for readers, not authors, but I picked up a few useful morsels for future reference from critical comments. 

The biggest surprise was a smacking 5 heart rating from Sizzling Hot Book Reviews.  It's not a site I knew, and I realized why when I checked out the review policy page—they don't accept m/m. Yet, somehow one of their reviewers not only read Last Stop, but really liked it. That put a smile on my face.

I have a suspicion a lot of women who haven’t read m/m but find the idea of it odd would really like it if they just gave it a try. It worked for me.

 In related news: I've written a free short story in the vein of Last Stop. Its title is Seduction, and it's available on Smashwords, All Romance eBooks, and on Goodreads. I plan to make it available on Amazon too, but not till it's approved by Smashword and sent to the various retailers, including Barnes & Noble.

Making a book free on Amazon is not a simple process. You have to make your book free elsewhere first. When you upload to Amazon you're forced to price it at least at $0.99. So next you need to ask all your friends to click on the "tell us about lower price" link. Then you wait for Amazon to match it, and set the price to zero. Sometimes it never happens. There's no knowing why, but I suspect it might have to do with which other retailers carry the book.

So that's the news form Lake Wobegon LA-LA Land.

Wednesday Word

In honor of my cold that refuses to go away.

mucilage |ˈmyoōs(ə)lij|nouna viscous secretion or bodily fluid.• a polysaccharide substance extracted as a viscous or gelatinous solution from plant roots, seeds, etc., and used in medicines and adhesives.• an adhesive solution; gum or glue.DERIVATIVESmucilaginous |ˌmyoōsəˈlajənəs| adjectiveORIGIN late Middle English : via French from late Latin mucilago ‘musty juice,’ from Latin mucus (seemucus ).

Sunday Snippet

From a WIP:

Harvey's lips twitched sideways. "I talk too much. You've never met a vampire you didn't want to kill, did you?"

"I've never met one that didn't try to kill me."

"Really, you must be exaggerating."

"No, I'm not. Is every undead around here like you?"

"No, of course not." Harvey rolled his eyes. "If you were a redneck alive, you'll be a redneck undead. You won't suddenly develop a fancy for velvet and puffy shirts. Not that anyone does--that stuff is strictly for the movies."

(Photo by Duniax)

Wednesday Word

constellate |ˈkänstəlāt|verb poetic/literaryform or cause to form into a cluster or group; gather together : [ intrans. ] the towns and valleys where people constellate | [ trans. ] their stories were never constellated.ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from late Latin constellatus, from con- ‘together’ + stellatus ‘arranged like a star.’