Generosity of Spirit – My List

June 5, 2018 by Z.A. Maxfield

Generosity of Spirit has been the rule, not the exception in the author community as I’ve experienced it. I have been privileged to see my name on lists of authors who have helped with other authors’ careers, and I want to make my own list, here.

At first, I was tempted to put our willingness to help one another down to the obvious–writers cannot stop talking about writing or they’d have to do it.

But that’s not all this is about, is it? Because I have a theory that every real writer starts out as a reader. And for them, books aren’t simply commodities that can be packaged and marketed like the latest celebrity perfume, using a hint of this. A touch of that. People like this color this year so why not use that on the box?

Every reader/writer wants books to be good.

Most important, every real writer wants to do the impossible: Write the book no one has ever written before, so brilliantly that it breaks all sales records, without being a commercial success, because ew. Amiright?

When writers talk ideas are born.

There’s no reason your ghost written-in-a-week novel, dressed up with a fabulous cover, stuffed with fifty backlist titles, can’t be good. But the statistical chances of it being as good as a novel by a proven author are unlikely.

Marketing those books, buying ads, generating sales is hard work. So is day trading, or running a Ponzi scheme. So is grinding Texas hold ’em in Vegas, don’t ever let anyone tell you the life of a professional gambler is easy. But buying a book someone wrote and putting your name (or a fake name that pays into your PayPal account) on it, has to be the ultimate delusion.

Books enlighten us, inform us, and direct our future actions. They create empathy for our fellow travelers on this planet, even if those people are not like us. They are own-voice stories, and fiction, and fantasy. They speak of faith, and ethics–of the possible dangers of rigorously applied morality or cutting edge science, because writers can make hard concepts easy to understand. They invite discourse. They challenge perception.

Like cameras, they kill fascists.

And in my experience, writers have preferred lifting their fellows quietly, relentlessly, and lovingly rather than attempt to gouge or steal or bully or set attack dogs on their colleagues.

Twenty people without whom I would not have a career*, are:

***I knew I’d forget important people. Edited to add the amazing Heidi C. and Marie S. who came into my life with Coffee and Porn (figuratively speaking.)

Terry Black
K.A. Mitchell
Josh Lanyon
LB Gregg
James Buchanan
Louisa Edwards
Samantha Kane
Deidre Knight
Treva Harte
Laura Baumbach
Kris Jacen
Belinda McBride
Lynn Lorenz
Heidi Cullinan
Marie Sexton
Damon Suede
Caitlyn Willows
Christopher Koehler
Amy Lane
Rhys Ford
Louella Nelson
Debra Holland

*Many more are not listed here as I gave myself a not so hard limit of ten… headdesk.

Mocktail Mondays!

February 19, 2018 by Z.A. Maxfield

Everybody loves a blue drink! This one is made from 3 oz. of chilled blue Hawaiian Punch, 2 oz. of chilled white cranberry juice, and seven up. Shake the Hawaiian Punch and white cranberry juice with ice in a cocktail shaker, pour into martini glass, add just a splash of seven up (so it sparkles). Garnish however you like. I prefer a cocktail sword with raspberries and a twist of lemon!

There’s always a reason to celebrate.

Of course, this mocktail will be the perfect accompaniment when you sit down to read Andi’s story, Honky Tonk Hellion, because while Andi enjoys her Fireball Whiskey, she knows that sometimes Moms have to stay on their toes.

A trip to the beach with Malcolm and Jonas calls for a pitcher of these! Andi’s story comes out TOMORROW. Grab your copy now!

Throwback Thursday…

February 8, 2018 by Z.A. Maxfield

There’s no leverage like seduction…until love takes a bite of Adin’s plans.

Deep, Book 1:  As the Indiana Jones of historical erotica, there is no document existing—or just rumored to exist—Adin Tredeger can’t unearth. Why he would risk the biggest coup of his career to join the mile-high club is beyond him. But the disarming, dark-eyed man who somehow enters Adin’s locked airplane washroom has him completely nude and coming apart. All without a whimper of protest.

From that moment, Adin and Donte Fedelta engage in an international battle of wit and cunning. The prize—a priceless, 500-year-old journal with illustrations so erotic it could make the Marquis de Sade blush. Yet Donte’s desire for the journal goes far beyond simple possession. The undead nobleman wrote it. And he’s not above using every trick in his otherworldly arsenal—including seduction—to get it back. Chemistry draws them together even as fortune tugs them apart. But when a third party joins the chase, they must unite to fight an enemy with a deadly goal—to erase Donte from history.

This book is a rerelease of a previously published book.

Warning: This product contains one cocky college professor, one centuries-old vampire who is out to show him who’s at the top of the food chain, and red wine. Because it goes so well with humble pie.

Wednesday Woolgathering

July 12, 2017 by Z.A. Maxfield

Rock shot me a goofy smile and that’s when I noticed his eyelashes were longer than a girl’s.

Every so often he’d look at me and start laughing and then I’d laugh too. It was so motherfucking undignified. I could only imagine ’Nando’s reaction to my new life at the Rocking C. He’d tell me to sack up and keep my eyes wide open.

You gotta use your big head, Gorrión. You gotta look out for number one, because nobody else will.

We chased the food with iced tea and ate homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Again, ’Nando’s words came loud and clear.

Anything that seems too good to be true probably is.

“Why do you suppose Elena’s doing this?” I whispered.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Every single person at the Rocking C warned me to stay away from you. Now we’re on some kind of date, and you don’t think it’s weird?”

“It’s not a date.” He laughed. “If we ever go on a date, it won’t be to Bitterroot. Do you have a driver’s license?”

“Sorry. I had one, but it’s expired.”

“No problem. You can get one, though, right?” he asked.

“I need to get either a driver’s license or an ID within thirty days of my release. I was going to talk to the boss about getting a ride into the DPS.”

“Then maybe, if we ever go on a real date, you can drive.”

“I guess I could.”

I didn’t have a car, of course, but we were dreaming there. Making plans the way kids do: Wouldn’t it be cool if . . .

Nobody ever expects those dreams to come true.

Want to read more?

Comment for a chance to win the ebook! Drawing’s on Saturday, 7/15/2017.

Go!

Guest – Llyod Meeker with Stone and Shell Excerpt

November 28, 2016 by William Cooper

Title: Stone and Shell

Author: Lloyd A. Meeker

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 28, 2016

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 11000

Genre: Romance, Anthology, Seasonal, Holiday

Blurb:

Eight-year-old Howie Evinger is convinced that his dad would be happier if he found a new husband. Howie would be happier, too. And somewhere out there in the city of Vancouver, there’s the right man for his dad to love. But how to find him? That’s a problem, especially if you’re just a kid and your dad says he doesn’t want another husband.

With the help of his quirky aunt, Shanna, who calls herself a Buddhist Wiccan, Howie builds his very own solstice altar with cool symbols to support his search. It has a candle, a feather, and a twisty stick, plus an agate for his dad, and a scallop shell for his new husband. Share Howie’s solstice adventure as he learns how real magic requires courage and patience as well as symbols.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Goodreads

Excerpt:

Stone and Shell

Maybe the stone and the shell were too close to the candle. Howie wasn’t sure how this stuff worked. He studied his Solstice altar, made out of a wooden TV tray covered in a piece of dark green cloth. He felt nervous, like sitting in a surprise math test he hadn’t prepared for. He had dreams like that sometimes. He hated math.

If he left his objects too close together, would his wish cover enough territory? Vancouver was a big city. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and frowned. Shanna, who was really his aunt Shannon, even though she didn’t let him call her that, would know how it worked.

She’d taught him about symbols last week, which was a totally cool idea. Then she helped him build his Solstice altar and told him to place his symbols wherever he felt was right for them. The problem was he didn’t know how to place them so his wish, which sat like a giant lump inside him, would come true. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask her about placement rules for wishes.

Dad was working late tonight, and the house was a lot nicer when someone was home already. Back when his dad and Joel were together, they’d had a big Buddha statue, which was the first thing anybody saw when they came in the front door. It was like having a friend waiting for you to come home. Joel had taken it to Toronto with him, and the house felt different without it. He’d told Dad he didn’t mind that it wasn’t there anymore, but he actually did. He didn’t want to be a wuss and complain, though. His best friend, Ricky, was lucky. The Liu family had a gold Buddha set up in their house with all kinds of beautiful stuff around it, even incense. Howie liked the smell, but it made him sneeze sometimes.

Shanna would come soon, and he’d help her get dinner ready. Usually on Dad’s late days, all three of them would eat together, which was nice. It was lasagna tonight, Howie knew, because Dad had made it on the weekend and had frozen most of it for nights like this.

So when Shanna got there in a bit, he’d ask her how Solstice altars worked. She’d know what to do. She’d told him all about Druids and the Solstice and the Celts who were Howie’s ancestors. When he said he thought his grandparents were English, Shanna got a little mad and said just because someone is born in a barn, doesn’t mean he’s a horse. Howie didn’t get it entirely, but he’d stuck with being from the Celts after that.

He was doing pretty well with the altar, as far as he could tell. He’d found objects representing the four forces, which Shanna said every altar needed. He’d found a tiny pure white gull feather with really pretty fuzz near the bottom that moved even when you blew on it just a little. That was for air, and he had a twisty stick for earth. The candle was fire, of course. And then there was water. That part was easy; he already had the little scallop shell and the agate, both from the ocean.

Trouble was, he didn’t want to talk to her about his wish again, or that the stone on his altar also represented his dad, and the shell was a new husband for him because it was smooth and beautiful inside. The shell would hold the stone, and give it a place to be really happy again.

He’d already told Shanna months ago that his biggest wish was for his dad to find a new husband, and she’d kissed his cheek and laughed, her eyes shiny with what he could tell were almost-tears even though she didn’t say so, whispering that was a lovely but awfully big wish for an eight-year-old boy to carry. Howie didn’t mind how big the wish was. He wanted it to come true more than anything else in the whole world.

He pulled the agate pebble back from the candle a little way, but kept it nestled against the shell. Farther from the candle felt right, but the pebble and shell shouldn’t be that close yet. Who knew how far apart they really were? He pulled them apart a few inches, hating the new gap. Even so, the distance felt right. For now. He’d put them closer together soon.

Guest – Oleander, Son of Drakkar Blog Tour

February 2, 2016 by William Cooper

Oleander, Son of Drakkar

Drakkar Series Book #2

by Leigh Jarrett

M/M, Paranormal, Romance

Blurb:

Pointless, insignificant—until Oleander

The unrelenting seduction of Oleander’s cool, flawless skin—and deep, captivating eyes. The concern in his voice—the touch of his hand. The exhilaration and pride elicited by the sight of Oleander waiting for him after the visit with his family had left him feeling disappointed and unfulfilled.

Unfulfilled …pointless, insignificant—until Oleander.

Amidst the chaos of his sexual reckoning, Timothy is compelled to uphold an intimate pact struck between himself and Oleander, and chooses to follow him north to Drakkar Castle—the threat of war upon them. Grimmr Coven is advancing deep into Drakkar Coven territory, and only Oleander may know the reason why. He had lived amongst the Coven Grimmr for many decades with his human lover, Torkel, and fears that a far greater threat is coming, forcing Grimmr Coven south into Drakkar Coven territory.

Left behind while Oleander goes in search of answers, Timothy’s inner turmoil becomes unbearable. His only company enroute to Drakkar Castle, Alexis, a vivacious, blue-eyed seductress with a secret, intent on stealing him away for reasons that would launch the already fractured family of Drakkar at each other’s throats.

Find it on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks, or Goodreads.

Excerpt:

Oleander released Timothy’s shoulder and came along side of him, resting his hip against the table. “Timothy, I have something to ask you. And you must give my question a great deal of thought before answering.” He lifted his hand to touch Timothy’s face, cupping the rugged chin as he brushed his thumb along Timothy’s cheek. “Whatever you decide …I will honor your choice.”

A nervous thirst gripped Timothy as he acknowledged his acceptance of the terms Oleander spoke of, despite having little clue of what was to be asked. He reached for the nearest glass, praying it was filled with wine, his trepidation mounting.

“Proceed,” he said, the tightness in his chest relinquishing somewhat as the full-bodied offering he had chosen trickled warm and comforting down his throat, infusing his body steadily.

Oleander rolled his shoulders and set his stance, attempting to exude confidence where truly, there was none.

“Drakkar Coven will soon be at war with the coven of Grimmr. Much sooner than we had anticipated.” His façade cracking somewhat, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “It pains me that such conflict has become necessary.”

Timothy reached for the hand Oleander had pressed to the tabletop, and stroked his fingers across it.

“Grimmr is the coven you spoke of …to the north?”

Oleander simply nodded then removed his hand from beneath Timothy’s, wandering off in the direction of the window. He moved a heavy curtain aside, staring out at the moon, then let the curtain drop. Its illumination would soon be guiding him home.

“I will be heading to Drakkar Castle at next moonrise to take my place at my father’s side in preparation.” Oleander turned and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. His place at his father’s side—he sneered. An honorary position that was only extended to him during times of unrest and war. His father, arrogant and oblivious to what was truly coming—that a far greater threat was gathering; a threat that was likely the reason Grimmr was scouting south into Drakkar Coven territory. A threat with which he was all too familiar.

He exhaled and dusted away the direction his thoughts were taking him, returning his attention to Timothy.

“You may accompany me north to Drakkar Castle,” he began. “Or you may stay here. The choice is yours.”

Timothy rose to his feet. “How …how long would you be away?”

Oleander shrugged. “Perhaps years.”

“Oh.” Timothy sunk back into his seat. “Then, I am uncertain.” He picked at the edge of the table, considering what his life would look like if he remained behind. Perhaps he could rearrange his sleep pattern in Oleander’s absence and help work the farm each day.

He scratched his head. Doing so would closely resemble his old life. A life with which he had been completely unsatisfied.

Aside from farming, the castle had little to offer him.

“If you desired to do so, you could rejoin your family.”

“You would allow me to return home?” Timothy rose to his feet again, discarding his napkin. “Truthfully?”

“It would pain me to do so, but I cannot reasonably expect you to wait for me within these castle walls.”

“And upon your return?”

Oleander studied Timothy, admiring the striking, masculine beauty of his companion. The feel of Timothy’s body beneath his own, gasping and mewling, challenging him to continue the pain, had been truly exquisite. He could spend an eternity eliciting such responses from him. Losing him would be painful.

“I would call upon you and inquire as to whether or not you desired to return to me.”

“Without question?”

Oleander placed a hand to his heart and bowed.

“On my honor.”

Timothy set his hands on the table to steady himself. Ever since he had arrived at the castle, he had been seeking to escape and return home. Now he was being offered the opportunity to leave the castle forever. To leave Oleander behind—forever.

“You would not return and recapture me?”

“No, Timothy.” Oleander reached for the stone sill of the window. The life he had imagined with Timothy slipping from him before his eyes. “Your entire family would be protected from any further capture. I give you my word.”

Timothy glanced up at Oleander, who was studying him anxiously. “But what of our agreement?” he asked.

“You …” Oleander lifted a hand to his face, touching his lips, unable to respond, his astonishment so complete. It had not even occurred to him that his new companion would factor their agreement into his decision. He had fully expected Timothy to return home to his family—reclaim his freedom.

He moved to speak, to clarify his offer of freedom, but the state of Timothy’s demeanor as he approached left him speechless.

An uncompromising decision had been made.

About the Author
Leigh Jarrett is a bestselling Canadian author of LGBTQ Romance. Queer, quirky, and passionate. Lover of antique stores, the smell of lye and oil as it turns to soap, cathedral groves, and bright colors. In her hometown of Kelowna, BC, Leigh is an advocate for the LGBTQ community, celebrating their diversity, and affirming their most basic of human rights–to love and be loved.

Find her on Amazon, her Facebook Page, her Facebook Profile, her website, Twitter, or Google+.

Giveaway

Leigh Jarret has offered two giveaways for this tour! One commenter on each blog during the tour will be entered to win a signed book mark. There will also be a tour-wide Rafflecoptor to win another signed bookmark and a signed paperback of Oleander. Both giveaways are open to readers in the US and Canada.
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