Dead Man and the Army of Frogs

The newest installment in the Dead Man series is now available on Amazon, Smashwords, and All Romance eBooks. Branes & Noble and print are coming soon.

Self-publishing has its challenges but it gets easier the more you do it. You also learn a few tricks along the way. For example, if you want Smashwords to accept your epub file for upload, you have to compile the epub in Scrivener then convert it from epub to epub in Calibre. Nuts but it works.

Whenever I'm uploading my books I get frustrated by the available categories. Dead Man and the Army of Frogs is a contemporary gay paranormal romance mystery. Probably more mystery than romance. It could possibly be also categorized as urban fantasy. One thing it isn't is gay fiction. Yet I'm forced to pic gay fiction as one of my categories at almost all vendors' sites for the gay part to register at all.

Amazon allows you to pick two categories only. So I chose gay fiction and paranormal romance. However, now that it's live it listed under nine categories, including gay romance. I'm convince that the Amazon goblins pick the additional categories based on the tags you supply. (Ironically, the tags don't appear on the book page anymore.)

All Romance eBooks is the only retailer I know that lets you pick gay romance as a category. If they can do it why can't the others?

Anyway, enough of my yakking. Enjoy this excerpt from Dead Man and the Army of Frogs:

"What in the name of Hecate are you wearing?" Bran's tone teetered between bafflement and alarm.

Denton had anticipated Bran's reaction, and secretly reveled in being able to surprise his generally unflappable boyfriend. He had promised to buy them a pair of kilts months ago but he knew Bran hadn't taken him seriously. Taking two steps into the living room he twirled around in a totally non-girly way. "It's called a utility kilt." He swiveled his hips to show off the side of the garment. "See, it even has pockets for storing stuff. You know, keys, wallet, a bag of graveyard dust. Whatever you got. Practical, eh?"

Technically, his kilt had gone well beyond mere utility with its steampunk-inspired design of straps, buckles, and other embellishments, but Denton had always liked extras. He'd wanted the kilt the moment he laid eyes on it at the online store.

Bran stared at the tan fabric first, then at Denton's bare legs showing between the hem and the orange socks puddling around his ankles. "It looks like a skirt to me."

Denton eagerly clarified the situation. "Nah, it only would be a skirt if I wore underpants."

With a pained expression Bran closed his eyes and kept them shut for several seconds—possibly counting to ten. When he opened them again they brimmed with resignation. "You're going to freeze your balls off."

"We're driving, aren't we?"

"Yes, but—"

"My balls will be fine." Denton did a quick shimmy with his hips. The swoosh of the thick cotton against his skin was anything but unpleasant. "You should try this; it feels so…liberating."

Bran's jaws set in a stubborn line. "I'm not going to a dinner at your friend's place wearing a skirt."

"Kilt. And Joy's your friend too now. Anyway, I meant around the house. Instead of those baggy jeans. The kilt I bought for you is tasteful and black, just how you like your clothing, but still functional with a pocket on one side for your eyes of newt or whatnot." He closed the few steps separating them till they were toe-to-toe. He wrapped his arms around Bran's waist. "It would be much more comfortable for your tail." Denton wasn't talking euphemistically. Bran had a perfectly formed, hairless, and surprising agile tail. Apparently, stuff like this happened when you had a demon for a father. Denton slipped a hand down to Bran's backside, over the spot where ordinary people had the beginning of their coccyx and pressed his finger at the root of Bran's bonus appendage. "Just think about it," Denton said quickly to cut off possible protest.

Bran sighed. "Fine, I'll think about it."

Denton grinned. "Good, because I have a pornucopia of fantasies of you in a kilt."

Random Update

I have had health and other issues lately and my mood took a nose dive. Let me just say, anxiety attacks are the suck. Everyone reacts differently to crisis. Some people share every little detail of their problems. I withdraw. I suspect the first approach is healthier, but I am who I am. I'm starting to feel better now, but I'm still wobbly. Fuck it.

The MS of Secrets and Charms is off to my editor. Remember Jem's friend, Olly, from Secrets and Ink? Well, it's his story. There are more Hollywood shenanigans, romance, and mystery. Bran's mother (Dead Man books), Layla makes a guest appearance.

I also wrote a holiday-ish short story, but it still needs some edits. I put aside for now.

Dead Man and the Army of Frogs have been edited, formatted, and ready for the August 5 release.

I joined twitter at last, but I have to say the whole thing befuddles me. Lots of links to reviews, promo, and not particularly exciting status updates. And I have no idea about the etiquette. If someone follows me, am I supposed to follow them back? What if I don't want to?

On the home front: my balcony garden is a mixed success. The available sun is not enough for most plants I have. However, the parsley and cat grass are doing fine, and the Boston fern is very happy. At fall I'll have to divide it up and replant it.

My neighbor has sunflowers growing between the curb and sidewalk in front of her house. They look pretty cool.

Vintage Monday: Ladies Man

I found this old postcard at the flea market and thought it was cute. The guy wears red and white striped socks and it makes me think he might be an ancestor of Denton Mills, aka Dead Man.

Status Update

Dead Man and the Army of Frogs is off to my beloved beta readers, and I'm busy doing preproduction for my next book. So far I've written 1,800 words of plot outline and it's not even the detailed one. The story is a sort-of-mystery, as mine often are, and what I've figured out is that instead of what will happen in the narrative, the first outline should contain what happens everywhere, including stuff my protagonists are not privy to. Put it in different terms, this is a chronological, omniscient description of events. The next step is to distill it into a bullet point list of events from the POV if my narrator(s).

I like this phase—it's exciting, and a little scary, but mostly all potential. I haven't always done it, but now I find it exceptionally useful. For example, giving names to all my characters even before starting the outline helps me to flesh them out. This is also the time I start doing research. I'm very visual and tend to look for a pictorial reference for every little thing that appears in my story, even if it's for one line.

A chunk of the book is to take place in a two bedroom Craftsman house in Silver Lake, so I drove around there to scout, then spent an hour on Google searching for photos of Craftsman homes. I even downloaded and printed a floor plan—it'll help me to visualize the scenes.

I grabbed another floor plan too, even though the place will probably only appear in one scene. It's a bungalow belonging to Mme Layla, aka Layla Maurell. Yeah, she's Bran's mom from the Dead Man books. :) I like having supporting characters walking from one book to another. This time I'm also planning guest appearances by Detective Lipkin from Dead in L.A. and Sandy Baker from Hanging Loose. Well, that's the plan. You know never know what actually happens once you start writing.

Outtakes: Ghastly Business

My free short story, Dead Man and the Lustful Spirit, takes place on New Year's Eve, after the events of Dead Man and the Restless Spirits. Denton and Bran go to a costume party dressed as a necromancer and a mage from Denton's favorite hack-and-slash computer game.

Originally I had the idea of Joy helping with Denton's makeup, but it dragged and I ended up cutting the whole scene. In the spirit of not letting things go to waste, here are two snippets from it:

The very tip of Denton’s nose itched something wicked, and, of course, he couldn’t scratch it. He was trying very hard to remain still but failed terribly.

“Stop fidgeting, or I’ll tie you to the chair,” Joy snapped and grasped Denton’s chin harder.

“I love it when you talk dirty, Mistress,” Denton mumbled barely opening his lips. He quickly pressed them together when the makeup sponge Joy was dabbing his face with landed dangerously close.

She only snorted in reply and kept working. Sitting still had never been Denton’s strong suit but he did his best. For a few minutes there was silence.

At last, Joy let go and stepped back. She stood there with a jar of white make up in one hand and sponge wedge in  the other. She cocked her head to the side, pursed her lips, and surveyed him with the eyes of an artist trying to decide if her masterpiece was complete yet. “It’ll do, You’re suitably ghoulish,” she declared, picking up the round mirror from the coffee table next to her and holding it so Denton could see himself in it. “What do you think?”

The ashen face of a wraith stared back at Denton, yellowish eyes glowing from dark, sunken eye sockets. Raven hair framed his face in shocking contrast. “Wow. Awesome job.” he announced grinning, although it ruined the overall effect of creepiness they were going for. “Way better I could’ve done.” He surreptitiously rubbed his nose.

“Well, that’s why I’m the artist and you the code monkey, my dear.” She put the mirror back down, stepped back, keeping her observant gaze on him. “It’s really simple if you know what you’re doing—a little makeup and color contact lenses, and voilà, scrawny web programmer is transformed into a minion of hell. Or something. You look ghastly.”

*****

A short while later as they shuffled into the elevator, all of them bundled in heavy coats, Joy seemed deep in thought. “I’d like to have you over for dinner next month. You know, to make up for the Thanksgiving disaster.”

Bran didn’t have the most expressive face but the way he stiffened, practically shouted alarm. Denton sympathized, but he didn’t want to risk hurting Joy’s feelings. “It was no disaster. We had a great time, right Bran? Once we opened the windows the smell wasn’t so bad.”

“I burned the yams, and the turkey was still frozen inside. We ended up going out for Chinese,” Joy replied.

“Um yeah, sure, but it was very good Chinese.”

“No buts. You’re coming over. I have something new cooking. You’ll see.” The elevator door opened with a ding and Joy swept out, leaving no chance for objection, not that it would’ve done any good.

Denton gave Bran and apologetic shrug and followed.

Wednesday Word: Torpefy

torpefy |ˈtôrpəˌfī|
verb ( -fies, -fied) [ trans. ] formalmake (someone or something) numb, paralyzed, or lifeless.ORIGIN early 19th cent.: from Latin torpefacere, from torpere ‘be numb or sluggish.’

From Dead Man and the Lustful Spirit:

While Denton put the coffee on, Bran scooped cookie dough from the plastic tub and rolled it into balls before placing them on top of the parchment paper lining the baking sheet. He kept talking as he went. “A full demon could move about freely, but a demonic spirit needs a host. Which means it is now trapped inside Lenny. I’ll put a spell of torpidity on Lenny to make his body useless to the spirit. Also to protect him.”

“Torpe-what?”

“Torpefy is the same as paralyze,” Bran said. “The grimoires I learned from were rather old.”

This short story is set between Dead Man and the Restless Spirits and the sequel, which I hopefully start writing very soon. It's available free on Goodreads, Smashwords, and All Romance Ebooks, but still costs $0.99 on Amazon. Goddess knows if I'll be able to set it free there too.

Guest Cat

Murry, aka Murmur, is in charge of promo duties over at Stumbling Over Chaos. Head over if you'd like to win a copy of Dead Man and the Restless Spirits.