I had a bit of trouble with this one… *g*


I should be flattered? Adam thought, resting his hand under the back of Zelda’s thigh. Triumph flashed in her eyes, curled on her mouth and she gazed down at him with the imperious confidence that never failed to enrage him. She really needed to take off her skirt for this? Does she think I’m that easy? He patted her shin and her smirk grew. Somehow he kept his smile in place. Oh, well, back to the role-play… “And madam wishes to try these pumps in a size 10?” he asked smoothly.


His supervisor nodded.  “Excellent salesmanship under extreme pressure, Banes.”


* * * * *

 For more fun 100 word interpretations of the above prompt pic from my friends in the FFF padded cell, clicky on the links…


Lisa Worrall : www.lworrall.blogspot.com 

Benjamin Russell : www.incubuschronicles.blogspot.com

Laura Harner : here

Sara York : http://sarayork.blogspot.com

Muffy Wilson: http://MuffyWilson.blogspot.com

Jp Archer: http://jp-archer.blogspot.com/

Lani Rhea : http://lanirhea.blogspot.com/

Rhea Archer : http://rheaarcherbooks.blogspot.com/

Katie Harper : http://katieharperwrites.blogspot.com/

Bonnie Sansom : http://bonnisansom.blogspot.com/

In Chez Chris today, I have an interview with–no, let me rephrase that. I have a conversation between RJ Scott and her partner in crime, Diane Adams. Foolishly I’d said to RJ, “I’d like something from you and Di about your new werewolf book and how you came to write it.”


“Oooh!” she said, “I’m sure we could do something.”


Then this arrived… I love these crazy girls!




Poor Chris Quinton said we should do a chat for her blog. So, Diane and I dived in…


RJ: So I get to ask a question first… what is Sam’s hell did you think you were doing writing a book with RJ Scott?


DA: I figured “Hmmm, I want to sell a gazillion books, what should I do?” The answer to  that was pretty obvious. Oh, I mean, I wanted the challenge of writing with a well respected author. (Really I thought it’d be fun, but that’s the boring answer)


RJ: well it’s certainly been fun… hard work as well given the Americans are always in bed when I am up…


DA: That’s cause you UK sorts have the oddest hours. Strange way of talking too (Oh wolfie 2, change the “que” to line), but mostly you’re okay. And it was fun when I managed to catch up with you, lol.


RJ: We need someone to ask us questions…this isnt working… who can we find… BEANY!


DA: LMAO – okay, yeah, that’ll be good, um, I mean she’d be good :D . Though I think I’m pretty amusing.


DA: We can start over.


DA: You know I’ve been trying to get you to write with me since our days of writing that unmentionable F word stuff. So, I finally got my way (it only took about three years). And it was fun! So tell me, why did you agree to do it?


RJ: Because I think you write awesome stuff… I love your writing…it’s very poetic…lyrical… also you can make sure I get rid of all the wardrobes, trousers and torches….


DA: Oh, such lovely reasons (blushing now). You know I think you are an awesome writer. We can’t have any que’s lingering around and the what is it you said about the road construction? lmao. You know it’s a wonder we understand what the other is saying at all! I’m not sure how you do it anyhow. I could never write a book with characters based completely in another culture. I’d never remember boys can wear jumpers in England and wash up with a flannel.


RJ: See, the difference is, in England, in UK, we are clever…ROFL…


DA: ummm huh. I thought you were supposed to be polite too. (is it bad to say England? Is England still there? I really don’t keep up with things well).


RJ: Is it still there? Yeah… I am English, BUT the Welsh and the Scots and the Irish are clever too… hence the UK…


DA: I see it’s just us American, European, Australians who fall on the wrong side of clever LMAO ( I think we have made a wrong turn again haha!)


RJ: Anyway back to the book… coughs… so… Jamie was totally your creation… did he just pop into your head fully formed as a character?


DA: Well, he introduced himself to me but I didn’t really know who he was until I started writing. I rarely have more than a description and a vague idea of personality before I start writing. I’ve read a lot about character sketches but there’s no way I could complete one on my characters until the book is finished. Then it seems rather pointless. I don’t make character lists before hand either, the characters appear in the story where they belong, that’s when I find out who they are. How do you manage with your characters? (are they just running amok in your head, breeding bunnies?)


RJ: I know that *insert character’s name here* is a cop or a vet or a millionaire… I know that *character 2* is a barista, or a writer… past that it kind of hits me when I start writing…

DA: Neither of us is much of a preplanner, one of the things that makes writing together really interesting. I can feel how much we’ve learned as we get into the second book we are really getting a feel for each other (pardon the pun).


RJ: I can’t wait to see what we make Doug do…


DA: and Sam, who really isn’t even Sam at all. I like it that his character is secret even from himself. It’s going to be fun to find out what’s hidden inside (like chewy nougat or a crunchy nut).


RJ: Well in chapter three… no one is reading this right?… well, in chapter three the shit really hits the fan…

RJ: I have a question – how is your Making Of A Man series going? And when can I read the next part?


DA: No one will see this… so tell me all the good stuff! MoaM series is going great, I’m working on book four now. Clark’s Story, and you’ll get to it sometime next week, lol. I wish everything came as easily for me as writing the Making of a Man books. What are you up to these days?


RJ: Just releasing my next YA book and writing Heart Of Texas #2… *Cowboy Christmas*… Riley’s past comes back to haunt him in a life changing way… nods…


DA: That sounds really dramatic! I’m looking forward to your YA I don’t read many of those but I enjoyed your first one. Are YA harder to write?

RJ: Yes and no. I dont know about you but when it comes to writing a sex scene in the M/M books we write there is sometimes this feeling of *been there done that* almost *insert A into B*… I mean how many more ways can writers describe sex? That is why in your books and mine we focus on the emotions behind the act.  So in the YA books, I focus on the emotions even more. In book 2 of the Love series there is a sexual act but it is so sweet and innocent…

Do you find writing sex hard? No pun intended.


DA: Sex is my least favorite thing to write. Mostly that’s true because of the things you mentioned, I worry about it reading more like a “how to” manual than an erotic scene. So the emotions, which are individual to each character are vital in making a difference. Probably only 10 or 15% of any given book is a full out sex scene (some even less than that) but I have spent longer writing those scenes than any other. I have learned that sometimes what seems stilted when I’m writing, reads fine after the fact so I push on.

It seems like M/M readers soemetimes anticipate a certain amount of sex in a book. That used to make me nervous but readers know me a little better now. How do you feel about that, do you now, or have you ever felt pressured to include graphic sex as a part of your books?


RJ: I had that very question when I released my earthquake fic…I mean the two guys are running from forest fires and are both injured. So they are not gonna stop off for a quick shag behind a burnt out car… But i was worried. I think there is an expectation in M/M readers for sex, mine included! It’s not enough to say I love you anymore, the love has to be shown to be real.
It reminds me of a quote in Throwaway… goes to find…

“Research had given him the basics, Tab A into Slot B using Product C after ensuring Product D is firmly in place. The mechanics of it were simple. The prospect, however, of having an A that big anywhere near his B was mildly worrying.”



DA: Ha! I have to admit it’d worry me. It’s easy to get sidetracked worrying about sex because how much is too much and you lose the story and it’s just repetitive instead of arousing…how much is too little and you lose the readers hoping for some heat. I’m telling you, it can feel like a tightrope sometimes. For the most part I’ve solved that by not thinking about it. I write the story and much like the characters who appear when needed, the sex happens when it’s appropriate. Then I groan and say, “gawd, I have to write sex now, thanks guys” lol. It’s really not that bad but I prefer writing the romance and the dynamics of the relationship more.

Speaking of which you are a very strong plot writer, whereas my stories are all character driven. I am in awe of how you do that, devise such interesting story lines and bring the characters alive as well. I get so caught up in the dynamics of character development that is almost always the focus of any given book. Do you think we reached a pretty good balance with that writing Shattered Secrets?


RJ: Yes I do… we have a good plot with the wolf breaking and the hints at the end about the *********, but we also have a very intense character in Rob and a irreverent character in Jamie…and thank you for saying nice things (what is it you want?)… oh and regarding the sex, a very good mutual friend of ours, Chris Quinton, writes GAPGAP in her manuscripts if thinking about how to write the sex holds up the story.


DA: That’s rather brilliant. I can see it now – “I”m done!” off to the publisher it goes, only to come back “GapGap?” Seriously my editor would have a blast with that, haaa. I gave a character the last name of Rubble once, just as filler. It nearly went to print that way! Still, moving along and coming back to it isn’t a bad plan at all. I’ll use “pokepokesucksuckgaspgasp” actually that might be good enough! Heh. or how about, “Please insert favorite sexual act here.” I guess in the end there’s really no getting out of it and sometimes I end up with something wonderful like the first sex between Alex and Jared.

Personally I think the hottest sex I’ve written is between Grey and Drake, my angels in Rearranging Stars. Not sure how much of a judge I am of my own writing. I mean, lol. Tell us which book contains your hottest scene. I think it’s that barn scene in Heart of Texas.


RJ: Yep, I think from what people have said, the barn scene in HoT is definitely my hottest scene… rofl… all that naked flesh just standing and …. guh… rofl… and yes, the sex between Grey and Drake is *hot*.


DA: See how I picked out the hottest thing you ever wrote. I so rock! Well, sadly other duties call so we’ll have to continue this delightful chat another day. Just remember “road construction” “standing in line” and “parking lot” and we’ll be just fine…oh and keep Sam out of “jumpers” will you?


RJ: Sam has a jumper in his wardrobe and it is a pale pink colour. It is his favourite jumper. He wears it when he goes out clubbing with his torch so he can see the way.


DA: I wish I could draw so I could illustrate the picture for you that drew in my mind. A guy in a pink dress carrying a wooden flaming torch down a busy night street. I love it! and I loved having the chance to talk to you, RJ. Time to get back to work on Wolf 2. Thank you for having us, Chris!


RJ: Yeah, thanks, Chris, for having me here and putting up with Diane Adams… rofl…

Bye, Diane! Have a good day y’all. xxxx


DA: Bye RJ! I’ll try, ma’m ;) and you do the same xxoo


RJ: Indubitably, my dear Diane, one will…




See what I mean? I think that’s the reason they work so well together – apart from their talents, they are both happy lunatics! *g* Now I’m off to buy Shattered Secrets and Rearranging Stars…


Thanks for the great conversation, RJ and Di.


RJ and Di also have solo works out there to be grabbed – RJ’s Eoin, the third book in her Fire trilogy due for release on September 17th, and Di has the already mentioned Rearranging Stars, all three books are from Silver Publishing, with covers by the award-winning Reese Dante.


Buy link for Shattered Secrets HERE
Buy link for Rearranging Stars HERE
Buy link for Eoin HERE

Place Holder Pic for Home and Heart - a Cotswold house

I’ve just learned that Home and Heart, my Christmas story, has been accepted by Silver Publishing, and I’m turning happy cartwheels. It was supposed to be a short story for their White Christmas submissions call, but it sort of over-ran the required word count, coming in at just over 28,000.


Home and Heart is set in Burford, a small country town in the heart of the UK’s Cotswolds…


It’s December, and Ben Elliot of Home-Safe House & Pet Sitting is looking after Mrs Bonney’s home and two dogs while the elderly lady is away for two months recovering from an operation. When her black-sheep grandson, Adam Prescott, turns up on the doorstep, Ben has to take in the stray human as well. Adam, hurting and betrayed by family, boyfriend and Fate, needs to have his faith in others restored, and Ben decides he is the one to do it.


Having gone through an acrimonious split with his boyfriend, Adam has no home, no money, no job and nowhere to go, except his grandmother’s house. The son of an abusive, violent father, there’s a lot of anger and resentment in him, demons he must exorcise. When he learns an unpleasant truth about his father, Ben helps him come to terms with it, and to find a new direction for his life – together, Ben hopes. But then Adam’s ex-boyfriend shows up, offering him the world on a platter if only Adam will come back to him.


Christmas may not be a time of celebration for Ben.

 Flash Fic Fridays = Drabbles from Photo Prompts!


Josh held Lauren closer, sliding his left hand up her silken thigh, lifting her short skirt. Her flesh was warm, soft and so velvety smooth and the cushioned softness of her breasts crushed against his chest. She’d already pulled his shirt out of his pants, uncaring the two of them were visible to any who looked up at the glass-walled elevator. Josh didn’t care either. His mission was to gain the information she carried, and he didn’t have a choice about how he got it. Orders were orders. He just hoped his lover would understand. Harry was the jealous type.


 * * * * *

Joining me today are some fantastic authors who have written their own interpretation of the picture for this week’s Flash Fiction Friday. Please click on the link in their names and stop by their Blogs to read very different Flash Fiction tales based on the same photo.


Lisa Worrall : http://lworrall.blogspot.com


Muffy Wilson : http://muffywilson.blogspot.com


Davee Nielson : http://finless.blogspot.com/


Bonni Sansom : http://bonnisansom.blogspot.com


Benjamin Russell : http://incubuschronicles.blogspot.com


Katie Harper: http://katieharperwrites.blogspot.com/


Lani Rhea: http://lanirhea.blogspot.com/


Jp Archer: http://jp-archer.blogspot.com/


Rhea Archer: http://rheaarcherbooks.blogspot.com/


Betty Carlton: : http://bettysbloggingplace.blogspot.com/p/flash-friday.html


Sara York: http://sarayork.blogspot.com



Amethyst 4 – Dylan Cunningham


Prompt Used – we can’t let this continue


Dave was back. Elation rocketed through me and for a long time I didn’t think any further than that. We’d been kids when he’d disappeared, best friends and blood-brothers thanks to a solemn piratical ceremony and a sharp piece of flint when we were seven. I still had the small scar on the ball of my left thumb.


The day his eyes first began to change, he’d been mopey and short tempered for a few days, and complaining of headaches. I’d teased him–of course I did, that’s what best friends and blood-brothers are for, right? Usually he joined in and insulted me right back, but not that time. He’d struck out at me, knocking me on my arse, and taken off running through the woods behind our homes. I’d chased after him, tackled him to the ground and we’d rolled in the bracken, scuffling like fox cubs. When he scrambled to his feet and backed away, he’d been laughing and crying at the same time.


“You’re glowing!” he’d shouted, knuckling his eyes. “Everything’s glowing, Lan, and it won’t stop”


“What?” I’d stood up and grabbed his arms, holding him still. He was taller than me, but not by much. “Did you hit your head?” I’d peered into his eyes and seen the bright blue fracturing with purplish shards. “Dave,” I’d said. “Your eyes have gone funny.”


“They have?”


I’d nodded. “They’d got weird-coloured bits in–” Then I’d realized what that meant and all the horror stories I’d ever heard flooded into my head. But I hadn’t pushed him away. I’d held him tighter. “Davy,|” I’d whispered, “you’re turning into one of Them!”


“No!” He’d wrenched away from me. “Don’t be stupid!”


I’d followed and took hold of him again. “Don’t worry,” I’d said. “We can hide in the forest and They’ll never find you!”


God, we’d been so young and naive.


I dreamed that old memory over and over that night, and by the time dawn painted the forest with pale light I was up and running through the dew-soaked grass. I vaulted the wooden fence separating our orchard from the forest proper, and plunged into the waist-deep bracken. It soon thinned out under the hazel and birch, sycamore, beech and oak, and I found the overgrown but faint path I’d made as a child. Found it and followed it, running fast and free.


The last time I’d run this trail was the day the Westons handed Dave overt to the Institute. I’d fled to the den he and I had made deep in the forest behind walls of dense holly and ivy. I needed it now because I wanted to be heading for the Westons’ home and David.


“Until we know what the Institute has sent back,” Dad had said last night, “and why.” Those words still reverberated in my head. And they hurt. Maybe because they were cold hard commonsense and the truth. But I couldn’t believe Davy would be so changed that he’d betray me. Had he been excluded? That would mean blocked and memory-wiped, or so the rumours went.


The holly barrier was suddenly in front of me, far sooner than I’d expected, and the narrow gap formed by a fallen tree was even narrower. I sprang up onto the trunk and lunged between the sharp leaves, hardly breaking my stride, moving too fast to stop when pressure hit between my eyes. I’d never felt it before, but I knew instinctively what it was. An Adept was close by and he would have sensed me the moment I sensed him.




I skidded to a halt where the first shattered branches clawed dead arms to the sky and stared at him. He stood in front of the makeshift door of our den, poised on the edge of flight, and he was a stranger. A dear familiar stranger. And, God, he was tall, and handsome, and—


“Dylan?” he said.


“What happened to your hair?” I blurted.


He laughed and it sounded more like a sob. “They cut it off.”






We moved at the same time, striding towards each other and meeting in a rib-crushing embrace in the middle of the clearing. He wasn’t taller than me any more, and he smelled of morning and green and summer. I didn’t want to let him go and by the way his arms stayed locked around me, he felt the same way.


We stood there for a long time. When we finally broke apart he kept one hand on my shoulder as if he thought I’d disappear if he let go. His eyes, his incredible, beautiful amethyst eyes were wild, haunted.


“Davy,” I began.


“Unregistered,” he said at the same time.


“Yes. It hit me late, only a couple of years ago. God, Davy, I wish we could have kept you away from them!”


“Me, too,” he whispered.


“Have you been Excluded?” I asked. “I never heard they let Adepts have holidays at home. What happened?”


“They don’t.” He took a deep shuddering breath, let it out in small gasps as if it hurt him. “I—” He tried to say something, and screwed his face up in pain. “They—I—” His breathing became ragged, as if his lungs weren’t functioning properly.


“Whoa!” I caught him by the upper arms. “Don’t try to speak! You’re blocked?”


Davy nodded, his expression miserable and hurting. “Standard procedure,” he said.


The old anger flared up in me. It had been smouldering in me for years, ever since I was nine and the Psionics Institute took my blood-brother away. The helicopter a few weeks ago had started the fire and this was fuel to the flames.


“We can’t let this continue! They can’t keep getting away with ruining people’s lives!”


“Break the block,” he said. “Break it and I—” He broke off with a choked cry, clutching his head. I pulled him close and wrapped one arm around his waist, the other around his shoulders.


“I will,” I vowed.




Now clicky on these links for some great Silver Flash Fics:


Sui Lynn (m/m) http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/?zx=57a5d3d27a15dbfa
Catriana Somers http://catrianasmuse.blogspot.com/
Julie Hayes (m/m) http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com
Freddy MacKay http://freddymackay.blogspot.com
Lily Sawyer (m/m) http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/
Victoria Blisse (m/f) http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk
West Thornhill (m/m) http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/
Ryssa Edwards (m/m) http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Game On, Game Over


John Jones, aka Aidan Whittaker, a negotiator with MI6, is currently on assignment in Tajikistan, close to the Afghanistan border. Overtly on a University-run archaeological site, he’s covertly brokering a deal with local tribal leaders. His undercover mission is complicated by the arrival of a couple of Americans; journalist Brent Babcock and his photographer Scott Landon. The two men are there to document the ancient Silk Road, but when Babcock gets wind of a hot news story, he starts asking awkward questions.


Scott Landon is a different kind of trouble for John. Fourteen years John’s junior, gay and single-minded, he wants into John’s bed. Not being prepared to jeopardize his operation, John rejects him, despite being drawn to the younger man. But then events around them spiral out of control.


Release Date – October 8th 2011 from Silver Publishing

Main Street, Haworth


Since the weather forecast was reasonably good, we took the bus to Haworth this morning, grabbing the chance while the weather was cooperating. It’s been a few years since I’d last visited the Brontes’ stamping grounds, and it was good to go back.


This photo does not do justice to the steepness of the hill!











Brontes' Parsonage, Haworth



I tried to take some photos of the wonderfully gothic churchyard of St Michael and All Angels, but the contrast between bright sunlight and deep shadows was too much for my Ricoh to cope with.









off Haworth Main Street


This is either a snicket or a ginnel, aka an alley, off the Main Street.










Haworth courtyard



The village is built along the sides of a steep dale, so garden space is in short supply. But that means there are some neat little courtyards just right for sunning cats.

History is written by the victors. Spin-doctors and propaganda-mongers are not new phenomenon.


From the civic records of the City of York, 22 August 1485:



 “This day our good King Richard, late mercifully reigning over us, was piteously slain and murdered to the great heaviness of this city.”



That was written at a time when the last Plantagenet king of England had fallen in battle, and the victor, a Welshman whose claim to the throne was by conquest only and no legitimate right, was very much an unknown quantity.


It says a lot that those burghers of York risked their necks to officially record their feelings about the change of regime.

Dark Deva Reviews have read and reviewed all three books – my The Psychic’s Tale, The Soldier’s Tale by RJ Scott, and Sue Brown’s The Lord’s Tale, and have given us individually 4.5 Delightful Divas and the Trilogy as a whole an enthusiastic FIVE Delightful Divas and a Recommended Read! Thank you, Samhain Queene!


Read all three reviews HERE


Excerpt: The Fitzwarren Inheritance is a series I would read again and again because they are well-written with characters you want to see succeed. The curse has been the main character through all three books and seeing it all fit together seamlessly was brilliant. All three authors, Sue Brown, Chris Quinton and RJ Scott brought the stories of these three couples to life and beautiful tied together through breaking the curse. I give the whole series 5 Divas and recommended read. It was wonderful.

Door to Great Hall, Stokesay Castle, the stunt double for the Fitzwarrens' castle

Woke up this morning to a lovely email sent to RJ Scott, Sue Brown and myself. It was from a reader who’d just finished all three ebooks in the Fitzwarren Inheritance Trilogy, and it was the perfect way to start my writing day. Feedback like this soothes a stressed author every time! So thank you, Reader in Australia! :D


“I just finished reading The Fitzwarren Inheritance and I wanted to let you all know that I LOVED this trilogy and I am so glad I already owned all three books before I began reading it. I would have hated having to wait for each book to be released :)


One of the things I particularly enjoyed was the setting. It brought back lots of wonderful memories of a 2 week holiday my family spent in Dorset and the surrounding area. I actually pictured the pub in Mere, where we based ourselves for our holiday, as the Red Lion :)


Another thing that I really, really loved was that all the stories were so wonderfully plot driven and not filled with unnecessary sex scenes.


I do hope that Silver plans to release these stories in a print volume. I’d be first in line to buy a copy!


Anyway, just wanted to thank you all for a great read and the chance to use my memories as the backdrop for your stories.”

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