A Barlow Lens is a story told in two timelines. This teaser is from the present.
Tuesday, March 30, 2021
Tuesday Teaser: A Barlow Lens
Tuesday, February 23, 2021
Tuesday Teaser
Monday, February 22, 2021
These are a Few of my Favorite Words
Hi-it's Mia Kerick here with a hopefully funny (and at least, quirky) post. It's my last week as GRRC's FEBRUARY FEATURED AUTHOR and I wanted to leave you with some food for thought...
A gay romance author’s favorite (and most avoided) words and terms.
I’m a word-sensitive person. My first realization of this came with awkward squirming and heavy facial sweating in seventh grade Health and Family Living (sex ed) class when Mr. Bert employed certain rather necessary words (puberty, menstruation, ejaculate, breasts) that I…uh, had a problem with.
Worse was speaking such words aloud in a prepubescent public discussion of the birds and the bees. Singing these words was out of the question. Unfortunately, my middle school guitar teacher, Mr. Lindemann—in all his long-haired, hipster glory—insisted upon teaching me to strum along to “singable” songs. “Rock-a My Soul in the ____ of Abraham! Rock-a My Soul in the ____ of Abraham!” Bosom was on my no-no word list. Guitar lessons ended almost before they began.
Severe word-sensitivity scarred twelve-year-old Mia.
From there, the situation only got worse. By the time I was in high school, my word-sensitivity had blossomed into a full-fledged phobia. Nugget, tender, bulbous, moist (okay, I just cringed), ooze, putrid. You get the picture. Maybe it was the sound of a certain word or its shape in my mouth. Maybe it was the image conjured in my mind. These words just didn’t work for me. Oh, they didn’t work for high school-you, either? Maybe I wasn’t so unique, but let’s not disregard that I had a problem—it was a challenge to order chicken strips at fast food restaurants because both nuggets and tenders, especially moist ones, were forbidden from my language!
Interesting on-topic fact: one of my daughters shared my teenage aversion to certain words. She kept a notebook, in which she listed a collection of words that grossed her out. Gross. That’s another word I avoid like COVID-19.
Poor Tyler Gross…a nice boy with a sophomore year crush on me. He didn’t stand a chance.
(FYI: ALL liquid-y words fall into the “most avoided” category. Dripping, soggy, juicy, damp. Blech.)
On the bright side, in adulthood my persistent word-sensitivity has produced some benefits.
There are words and terms that make my romance writer’s soul sing. I probably should have led with this, huh? And where better to start than with coming undone? I can’t get enough of a character coming undone in response to the words or deeds of their beloved. Zippers and buttons and tiny little hooks coming undone ain’t so bad, either.
I’m majorly into unbridled* emotions in romance. I’ll take unrestrained, too, in a pinch. These words let me know the character is passionate. Maybe even wildly so.
I’m partial to taut things. Muscles, cheeks (facial and …um, not facial). And other stuff. Hehehe.
In comparative descriptive terms, I’m cool with “like a gladiator.” I’ve watched Spartacus; I know what gladiators look like beneath their armor.
I’m equally cool with “like a highlander.”
Outlander TV series. Jamie Fraser. Kilt. YUM. Enough said.
The word collide thrills me. So many things can collide in romance novels. Gazes, hearts, lips (hopefully not teeth), sometimes fists… and even lives. That last part was profound.
Other verbs that stir me: plunder and tumble. No explanation required.
But quiver—nope, not so much.
Two-word terms that cause spine shivers: “fix you” (many would disagree, reminding me that you shouldn’t want to change the one you love, but it still makes the list) and “tortured hero.” Mmmmm. Variations on “perfect imperfections”is good, too. Thank you, John Legend.
And I can’t leave out broken. I write dark romance—almost all of my main characters are broken in one way or another.Damaged is an essential tool of the trade as well.
I’m not much into the wink, as far as gesture-words go. So short and clipped and precise.
But a shrug…bring it on. A shrug is just so complicated—the word, in itself, sounds cryptic, and it indicates that a character can’t commit his unbridled* (see above) passion to the verbal realm. And that’s just plain hot.
First, only, forever, and mine. Yes, please…
And even better: You. Are. Mine. Did you hear me sigh?
As an avid romance reader, maybe you endure the highs and lows of word-sensitivity. (Shrug.) Maybe not. Let me know in the comments section. I’m all ears. (Not literally.)
My post is like an opposite mullet haircut. Party up front and business on the back end. Okay, now for the business part of my post.
I have a new release on March 3rd. Dead Sea is YA Coming of Age Gay Romance. It will make you think and wonder if only… and remember in that way YA books are known to do. It’s fiction in the truest sense—two characters meet their adult selves under some difficult circumstances. But it is also romance, which I wish Amazon.com would understand. I think I need to look at the categories again... LOL
Here’s the link and the blurb:Dead Sea
Standalone Coming of Age Stories
Kyle is a swaggering bully; Lenny strives to be invisible.
Kyle has been left alone in the world; Lenny is the world’s biggest loner.
When Kyle saves Lenny from drowning, their lives will never be the same.
After a brutal encounter with school bullies, Lenny swims out into the ocean, determined to let the current whisk him away. Next thing he knows the meanest kid in town is pulling him from the waves, promising to be his Dead Sea, and to never let him sink.
All Kyle wants is to get out of beach cleanup, is that too much to ask? So he goes for a swim, only to come upon the most epic “nobody” in the senior class drowning in a riptide. Lenny’s haunted gaze grips him, and Kyle makes the impulsive decision to save his life or die trying. And through this ordeal, Kyle and Lenny are transformed.
Kyle’s heroic act sets him on the straight and narrow, and he opens his heart to the young man he dragged from the ocean. Lenny changes too but is still unable to reveal the truth of his pain. While drowning in a sea of secrets, the reformed bully and wary victim fall in love. But staying afloat in the Dead Sea is not as simple as it seems.
Trigger Warning: Unsuccessful attempt to die by suicide of main character and further discussion of death by suicide
And it is on KU or is only $2.99
I’ve loved being GRRC’s featured author. I hope you downloaded The Red Sheet, which is another great example of YA Coming of Age Romance that gives you characters to root for while offering you food for thought.
<3 Mia
Thursday, February 18, 2021
Winter Duet Release by Anne Barwell
Winter Duet, book 2 of my WWII Echoes Rising series is now available for on Amazon and in KU for the first time.
· WWII
· Action/Drama
· Spies
· Diverse Characters
· Found Family
· #mmromance
Who do you trust when no one is who they seem?
Germany 1944
Fleeing German physicist Dr Kristopher Lehrer and his lover, Resistance fighter Michel, are caught up in an Allied bombing campaign. Separated from Michel after discovering an injured RAF pilot in the Black Forest, and pursued by the SS for the information he carries, Kristopher is frantic to reunite, unaware that Michel has been recruited by the Allies for a rescue mission.
Time is running out. The Gestapo is closing in. How can they decide who to trust, when the dagger pointed at Kristopher’s back could be wielded by a friend?
Author’s note: This is the third edition of Winter Duet. The first and second editions were released by another publishing house. This story has been re-edited, and uses UK spelling to reflect its setting.
Monday, February 15, 2021
Home and Family - The Latest in the Heart Home Family Series
Tomorrow, February 16, is the release of Home and Family. This is the third story in the series. And to celebrate, the first two stories, A Heart Back Home along with Heart and Home are on sale! So there is plenty to get excited about. I just love these stories. They remind me of growing up in the country with all the animals.
I thought I'd share an except that I hope you'll all enjoy!
Isaac lives in a self-sustaining, simple-life community a few miles up the road. He’s spent his life working and wondering what the outside world might be like. When his father requires him to earn outside money, he asks for a job at Clay and Dell’s farm.
What neither Mark nor Isaac expects is a friendship that quickly grows into something more. But their feelings for each other go against everything that Isaac has been taught, and acting on those feelings will mean leaving the only way of life he’s ever known.
Together, Isaac and Mark are going to need a great deal of strength to weather the storm that’s sure to head their way.
“Hi,” a boy of about seven said from
behind him, startling Isaac out of his thoughts. He carried a small shovel.
“Poppy said I should help with the poop.” He scrunched his face and began
shoveling the runway behind the goats to clean away their mess. “What’s your
name? I’m Archie, and this is Gordon.”
“I’m Isaac.” He continued working,
watching the boy to make sure he was okay. It seemed Archie knew what he was
doing and had the mess cleared away pretty quickly, the dog following him
wherever he went, his tail wagging.
“Poppy said you were starting today.”
Archie finished wielding the shovel that was almost as big as he was and then
reached into his pocket, pulled out a plastic bag, and gave each goat a treat.
“What are those?”
Archie grinned. “Goat cookies.” He
handed one to Isaac, who looked it over and smelled it before tasting a corner.
It was pretty good. “Daddy buys them for me. They’re really animal crackers for
people. But I call them goat cookies.” He finished passing out his treats and
cleaned up some more of the mess.
Working together, he and Archie
finished up the milking process and sent the last of the goats back into their
pasture. Then Isaac cleaned up the shed, hosing down the milking area.
“I see you know what you’re doing,”
Clay said from the doorway.
“He does, Poppy. He even ate a goat
cookie.” Archie grinned as he hurried over. “And the goats liked him. They
didn’t try to bite him. Not once.” That seemed to be high praise.
“That’s really good.” Clay looked
around. “You did a good job cleaning up too. We milk twice a day. The first
time is about seven in the morning. So, if you really want the job, it’s
yours.”
“Thank you, sir,” Isaac said
Clay smiled. Now come on inside. I have
some supper on the table, and anyone who worked like you did is going to have
an appetite.”
Isaac looked at the food his mother had
sent. His father would probably be upset if he ate here, something about
polluting their bodies with chemicals, but his mama had always said it was
polite to accept when someone offered something. If it was sincere, his mama
had told him, then folks can be insulted if you turn them down. Always say
please, thank you, and never talk back.
“And you,” he turned to Archie. “Go
inside and clean up good before dinner, and you’ll get an extra allowance for
helping.”
Archie hurried away.
“You want me for both milkings?” Isaac
asked.
“If you can,” Clay said.
Isaac had only been counting on helping
with the one, but the extra work and money would be good. “I’ll be here,” he
answered, and followed Clay to the house. He paused outside the back door. He
wasn’t sure what to do in a house like this. Once inside, he took off his boots
because the others seemed to and looked around. The kitchen was about as big as
half their entire house, warm and filled with the scent of roasting beef. His
belly rumbled, and Isaac tried to remember the last time there had been beef at
home.
The community existed on what they
raised or made. They prided themselves on being as self-sufficient as possible.
One family raised chickens, a lot of them, sharing the eggs and the meat with
everyone. They also had goats that they raised for milk. There were a few head
of cattle, but they were milked as well. One family raised pigs for the meat.
The community had huge gardens for vegetables, and an orchard of apples and
pears that they canned and sold at a small roadside stand. The women baked
bread and made other goods for the stand, but mostly they ate and existed off
what they had at hand.
“Go ahead and wash up, and then you can
sit right here,” Clay said, then turned back toward Isaac. “Where are you
going?”
“I need to use the outhouse,” he
explained.
“The bathroom is right through there
and under the stairs. Archie can show you where it is,” Clay explained, and
Archie grabbed his hand and led him through the comfortable living area, with
sofas and big chairs, to the bathroom.
Isaac felt stupid. He knew what a
bathroom was. He’d seen and used them when he was in town. But he never really
gave much thought to having them in people’s houses. No one in the community
had one. They used outhouses, and that was the way it was. Isaac used the
toilet and then washed his hands, luxuriating in the running hot water. Once he
had dried his hands, he returned to the kitchen, where the others had gathered.
They all watched him as he sat down,
taking off his hat and placing it under his chair. Clay carved the meat and
began serving. Isaac wondered if they were going to say a prayer like at home,
and when they didn’t, he bowed his head and recited one of the things the
preacher said at meals before silently saying his amen. He lifted his gaze just
in time for Mark to pass him the potatoes, followed by a huge bowl of salad. He
took some of each and sat quietly.
At home, meals were almost silent
affairs, broken up only by his father, who might ask a few questions. So this
meal, with everyone talking and smiling, was a bit foreign. Isaac didn’t know
what to say, so he kept to himself, enjoying the hearty meal and the beef that
tasted like heaven. He ate the piece he’d been given and finished off the rest
of the food, then set his knife and fork on the side of his plate.
“Would you like some more?” Mark
offered, handing him the bowl of potatoes.
For a second Isaac didn’t know how to
react. “I don’t want to take anyone else’s share,” he said softly, color rising
in his cheeks.