This year we have some work to do. I want to start with edits to 4:05 a.m. An Ice Era Chronicle.
Here is the plan. After 3:05 a.m. comes the book One Strong Gale: An (Off-The-Rails) Ice Era Chronicle. Then the next book should be Sky's The Limit: An (Off-The-Rails) Ice Era Chronicle. You might recall Sky. He is Arrow and Nova's baby. In this book he is a grown man. Once those books are out, I will be at 4:05 a.m. This is the story of Ronan, in 3:05 a.m. Rourke was looking for his little brother Ronan. Now Ronan is all grown up and a little messed up after being with Weber for so long. After 4:05 a.m., I want to write some side stories. I might (we will see) create A Holiday Haze: An (Off-The-Rails) Ice Era Chronicle. That would be a little side holiday book. Then I want to put out Penny For Your Thoughts: An (Off-The-Rails) Ice Era Chronicle. Now, usually, I only do two off-the-rails books between the numbers, but a holiday book doesn't count, so I would then write Everyone Loves Cash: An (Off-The-Rails) Ice Era Chronicle. Cash is Penny's brother, and I really get the idea that he needs a tale. Once all that is done... we are at 5:05 a.m. This is Connor's favorite story of the Ice Era Chronicles. I can't wait to tackle it. The outline is so much fun. I do not know when all these books will be in your hands, but I will keep you posted as much as I can and share chapters and excerpts with you as I finish them. Thanks for being on this journey with us!
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I wrote "Holiday Cup Of Joe" during Christmas time. Now that the holidays are here again, I am thinking of writing another holiday piece. I am toying with the idea of doing a book called "A Holiday Haze."
In the story of 4:05 a.m.: An Ice Era Chronicle, I have a secondary character called Haze. The man has a small part, but I thought a lot about his life. I considered giving him more of a back story, and I want to know about the love he finds. Here is a raw excerpt from 4:05 a.m., where you see Haze. (This has no edits.) I don't know if I will give Haze a book, but if I do, you will be the first to know. *** Chapter 10 “You did it wrong,” Haze smirked. If Ronan had to hear this guy say that one more time, he was going to belt him across the mouth. He would be the first to admit that he couldn’t seem to make a tortilla into a circle, but he didn’t need Haze pointing it out repeatedly. And with glee. He took another small portion of dough, pushed and pulled it, and flattened it. Another tortilla shaped into a square. A lopsided square. “You know, I’ve seen this done better, but never slower.” Haze spun the rolling pin in his hands, made another perfect circle, and snickered. He didn’t say you did it wrong again. But Ronan was sure the man was thinking it. He was probably thinking a bunch of asshole things, and all of them Ronan didn’t want to hear. “I bet they could have built all of the H.S.P.C. headquarters in the time it took you to make that one tortilla.” Ronan glanced at the door and wondered when Sani would be back. He knew that Haze wouldn’t say a word to him if his madam were here. “It’s never too late to quit. You can call kres any time.” Haze added another tortilla to his stack. Ronan kept his mouth shut as Haze handed his neatly formed tortilla pile to the woman cooking on the other side of the room. He walked back— not walked— swaggered. The man moved like he knew he was good-looking and he would be able to have Sanidine. Soon, Ronan would be nothing but a memory. And that was true, wasn’t it? His stomach clenched. Sweat damped his neck. Why did his nerves come alive whenever he thought about leaving his madam? Was it the drugged water that messed with the mind? Maybe there was something more in the water than what he knew about. He should ask Flicker. “I’ve seen better hands on a clock.” Haze slapped down a new ball of dough. “You know what they call it when you make the same mistake twice? A learning disorder.” His eyes shot to the kitchen door again. Ronan was starting to miss Sani. Not really starting to. He’d been missing her since she left, and it wasn’t because of the digs from Haze. He didn’t even care about the insults. He’d had brothers on the ship. Harvey, Jag, and Cody were some of the best hecklers out there. Mostly, he was beginning to wonder if Sani was okay. What if Sanidine got caught looking for his bag? What if she got in trouble for him? That would be terrible. He needed to do something more proactive. He made another tortilla. It was shaped like a football. “You need a madam to keep you— or someone.” Haze scoffed. “You can’t do anything.” “Just because I can’t shape a tortilla doesn’t mean I can’t do anything.” Ronan wasn’t even sure why he responded to Haze. The man was trying to bait him, but he would discover that Ronan wouldn’t rise to the cracks. Also, Ronan wasn’t the type to quit. And he absolutely wasn’t calling kres until he had a solid idea of what happened to his map. “I bet you have been a disappointment in The Offering.” Haze chuckled. His voice lowered. “I don’t know why Sanidine is bothering with you. Pity, I suspect. Let me guess? Your cock is the size of a barely grown carrot, and you’ve never made a woman orgasm in your life.” Ronan walked to the sink and began to wash his hands. There was no way he would respond to that comment. He was sure that the man was working to get him to react. Probably so he would get mad and lose his temper. Then Haze would pretend he was innocent, and he had no idea why Ronan was off-his-rocker. This man was the type to polish his halo. That was a very Wendy thing to do. He remembered that from when he was a kid. Haze was simply being a childish ass. “Did you know that after The Offering, the madams specifically make their collars for their males? You will never get Sani’s. I’m going to get her to put it on me. And then, do you know what I will do with Madam Sanidine the second she clips her collar around my neck?” Haze sidled up to him and wiped his big, stupid hands on a towel. “I’m going to taste her lips.” He winked at Ronan. “Both of them.” Ronan’s vision went white. He pictured Haze kissing Sani. He didn’t mind the razes at him, but he wouldn’t let Haze talk about Madam Sanidine like that. And no one was allowed to put their mouth on his woman. The towel was ripped from Haze’s hands. Ronan launched himself at the big man. Haze snagged him around the waist. The fight was on. Ronan tossed Haze onto his ass. The rolling pin hit the floor with a clatter. Haze kicked him. Ronan flew backward and grunted as he landed on his back. Haze was on his feet at the same time Ronan was. They went for each other. Ronan wasn’t sure why he was so furious. All he could see was Haze’s mouth all over his madam. He snapped. They wrestled for dominance. They spun. His back hit one of the counters. His spine bent over the hard top, and then he kicked. Haze flew off him. “Haze!” one of the cooking women called. “What the hell are you doing?” another woman yelled. The words barely registered. Haze jumped him. The big man wrapped his muscular hands around Ronan’s throat. The guy was built like Ethan, but Ronan learned to fight from a man who was pure evil. Weber was cruel and calculating and probably trained with the devil himself. Plus, Ronan worked on a sailing yacht. He had the muscles to reinforce his strikes. Ronan slammed his fists down on Haze’s hands. Gasping, he got his footing and knocked Haze backward with a knee to the stomach. The man stumbled and then went after him with a vengeance. Not fucking had made Haze mean and agitated. At the very same time, they attacked each other. Locked in a death grip, the two of them tumbled through the two wide doors that led to the dining room. They spilled out onto the lush carpet. Women at the round tables turned to watch. When his shoulder hit the floor, Ronan rolled to his feet. Haze did the same. A fist came toward his head. Ronan dodged. He threw a jab. Haze’s head snapped back with the strike. The man’s hand snagged one of the tablecloths from a nearby table. Dishes clattered to the floor— blood splattered from the man’s nose. Haze spit at him. They faced each other. Then everything stopped. No one moved, but if they were like Ronan, they couldn’t. The air itself was thicker than concrete. An energetic weight held him in place. All eyes were on him and Haze. Forks were suspended in midair. Condensation drops on water cups were hung before the drip could splash. From around one of the far tables, Granite rolled in her wheelchair. She appeared either unaffected or she had created the phenomenon. He assumed it was the second thing. Ronan was in the process of throwing another punch. Granite passed him first and then headed for Haze. The man was still in his fighting position and had brought up his arms to block. Madam Granite rolled and glanced around the room. Her energy hummed. His muscles flexed, but he got nothing. Panic flashed across Haze’s face, but he didn’t think that was because the woman was using her gift on them. Haze was in trouble— probably for baiting him and getting into a fight. Ronan guessed that they would blame the big man since Haze was the senior male here. Ronan could say that he didn’t know any better. His mind scrambled to come up with an explanation. He didn’t want to get kicked out of the compound before he got his map. At the same time, he didn’t hold any of this against Haze. The man was hard up. Only Granite could move. She sighed as she rolled along and looked at each of them, shaking her head. Her hair glowed an unworldly rainbow color. She stopped in front of Haze and sighed again. Her hair changed back to purple. “I’m disappointed in you, Haze. You are no new male here.” The older woman whacked her cane on the armrests of her chair. The words seemed to take the weight off his body. Ronan pulled his punch and straightened. Haze dropped to the floor and knelt. Women around the room resumed eating like Granite’s gift was nothing new. “Where is Madam Sanidine?” “She went to see the healer.” Ronan dropped to his knees. “I see.” The supernatural energy simmered down. As soon as it did, the door to the dining room opened with a bang. “I’m here, Madam Granite.” Through the wide double doors hurried Sani. Her cheeks were flushed pink as she jogged to the three of them. “Seriously, Nan?” She admonished as she approached him. “This is just dandy.” Her brow was wrinkled in concern. She was right. He’d screwed up, and so had Haze. All of that was stupid, especially since she had left to help him. He should have accepted his square tortillas and the fact that Haze would get to put his mouth on Sani and not him. “Why is your male fighting with sweet little Haze?” Granite asked Sani. Ronan rolled his eyes at the terms sweet and little. Granite noted the action, and he decided to stare at the floor like he was hunting for land on the horizon. When Sanidine didn’t speak, Ronan chanced a quick look at his madam. Sani looked lost for words. Yeah, just dandy. He’d screwed this up big time. “I’m sorry, Madam Granite. I don’t know what’s going on.” Sani shook her head. “I asked Haze to teach Ronan in the kitchen, and I went to see the healer.” She held up her arm. No bandage. “You should have taken your male with you.” Granite appeared thoughtful. “He is your responsibility, Sanidine.” “I’m sorry. I thought Ronan and Haze were getting along so well, and I—” She stopped talking abruptly. “I will not give a litany of excuses. I’m in the wrong and I’m sorry for my mistake. I am responsible and will take whatever punishment is in store for my male.” Ronan’s heart slammed into his chest. No. If there were a punishment here, he would take it. Every fiber of his being screamed that he would take care of his madam. “I don’t know about this.” Granite stared hard at Haze, and he kept his eyes on the floor. “Haze should take some of the weight of this situation. He has been here longer than both of you. He knows the rules inside and out. Madam Lapis trained him rigorously since he was eighteen.” She paused. “Even if you didn’t know that you should not have left Ronan alone in the kitchens, Haze knew not to fight.” Granite whacked her cane on her wheels. “Right, Haze?” “I did know better.” Haze bowed his head until it looked like he was trying to sink his chin into his chest. “It’s not all his fault,” Ronan spoke up and then wondered what the hell was the matter with him. He wasn’t sure why he was defending Haze. “There were two of us, and I lost my head. I shouldn’t have. I knew he was baiting me, and I should’ve left it alone.” Madam Granite lifted one eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to talk unless he was addressed. Talking to the Pochwa was like trying to navigate through a shallow area with rocks all over that could tear a hole in his hull. “Tell me what happened, young one.” Granite looked at him. “Why do you say that Haze was baiting you?” Ronan considered the question. What was the best way to get them both out of this? “Haze is hard up for sex.” Ronan shrugged. “I think he’s stressed and horny, and he was bugging me for an outlet for his anger. He was aggravating me for fun. Honestly, I knew better. I used to have brothers, and really, I think Haze needs a good wank to get some of that energy out of him.” A woman at a table nearby gasped. Just dandy. Okay, don’t say wank around the Pochwa. “Interesting assessment and interesting word,” Granite grunted, and Sani made a squeak like a laugh. Haze’s eyes shot at him with a mix of horror and murder. Okay. Don’t say wank around Haze, either. “Well—” Sani started but again looked lost for words. “Haze.” Granite cut off whatever Sani was going to say. “Are you feeling a lack of affection here? Have you spoken to Madam Lapis about your needs?” The older woman paused. “And do not lie to me. This question is not about protecting Madam Lapis.” “I love Madam Lapis, but I can’t talk to her about this. She has been caring for me since I got here. I was so young.” Haze shrugged. “Back then, this was a lot for me. I was scared.” “You have now been here five years, Haze. Has Madam Lapis cared for all aspects of your life?” “Not exactly all aspects.” The man swallowed audibly. “She—” His gaze flashed to Sani. “She isn’t like Madam Sanidine, who is energetic and lively. I need… I wanted a little…” Haze groaned. “And I would never spill my seed without permission. It’s been five years. Since The Offering.” “You haven’t come in five years?” Ronan couldn’t help the outburst. “I’d hit a stranger, too.” “Madam Lapis is seventy years old.” Granite nodded. “Perhaps she was not considering all facets of your care.” “She is seventy-one, Madam Granite,” Haze whispered. “And she is thoughtful and considerate of my needs but not—” Haze shook his head and whispered something, and Granite nodded again. “Haze, you will follow me,” Granite announced, rolling toward the exit. “Madam Sanidine, leash your male. We will take this outside.” “Just dandy, Nan,” Sani muttered as she clicked her chain to his collar. “I guess if this boat is going down, I’m going down with you.” Yes, he had to agree. This was just dandy. I was going to keep writing my "In The Mountains" books. I did four of them, and I loved working on them so much that I thought, "Why not?" I started writing four more pieces, and in another blog post, I talked about how they would be called "Back In The Mountains."
And here is the part where I changed my mind. I do that—a lot. Forgive me. Anyway, I decided to write four more gay male love stories. However, I didn't want to be back in the mountains again, so I set the stories in a little southern town by a river. The little southern town is named Grand River, and though some of my characters know the men from "In The Mountains," they are separate tales. I decided to do this because I might want to keep going, and I can't have everyone in the same town. It would start to be like, "Is everyone in the mountains a gay man?" And that would be a good question. They are not. So, instead, I liked the idea of having more towns and different problems and places and issues instead of keeping it all in the same region. Anyway, my collection "By The River" is done. It is a four-story collection similar to "In The Mountains." The first book you meet Skeeter. (His real name is Gage.) The second book is Mule's story. (His real name is Winslow.) The third book is about Bubba. (His real name is Oakley.) And the fourth book is all about Blue. (His real name is Jesse.) I don't know where these stories will go just yet, but they are written, and I now have an idea for four more books. I will pick a new town for these men. I'll keep you posted on what I do next. :) .I have not gotten a great grip on 4:05 a.m. yet. What I do know is that it will be about the oracle. After 4:05 a.m. I was planning on writing a threesome love novel and then a short story that is set on the underground farms.
After that, I wanted to write about Quinn. He is an assassin that I already have a good storyline for him and his match. Once that's completed, his best friend will have a story. I want to call that book Hunky Dory. Dorian is the main character. What is strange to me is that I have all these ideas but to kick them off I have to get my head on 4:05 a.m. and it's been going slow. I'm not sure why. Aliens? Maybe. Gay mountain men? Perhaps. Personally, I think I simply need some new inspiration. I plan to visit a friend of mine. She is a writer in her own right and has been hanging out with me for years. We are going to Lousanna, and I want to sit in the French Quarter and people watch. We will drink coffee and talk, and I hope it will clear my mind and get back on track. We will see! I really want to write more in the mountains books. And so, I started with this story for a guy named Skeeter. That's his nickname. I picked four nicknames for these four stories. These are names I have heard here in Georgia.
My plan is Skeeter's story, Mule's story, Bubba's story, and last is Blue's story. The thing is, I don't know what to do with these books yet. I don't know where to put them. I want to create but maybe they don't need to be out in the world. I could put them under my bed. I like playing with them, but it doesn't mean anyone has to read them. Right? I'm not sure. But if you think I should put them up on Kindle Villa or make them into a book on Barnes and Noble... please tell me. I have them written but not edited yet. Here is a small part of Skeeter's story. (Please remember there are no edits so far.) *** Chapter 1: Back In The Mountains: Dane and Skeeter. Tapping snow off his tennis shoes, Dane entered the small mountain town café and stopped. The place was empty, but that didn’t surprise him for a random Thursday night. As he wiped his feet on the mat, he scanned the little round tables, the glass case of baked goods, and the cash register. Doc Henderson wasn’t here yet. But he would wait. “Can I help ya?” An older woman with a hairnet appeared from the back of the baking area. “Ya look froze to death.” She took a spot behind the cash register and smiled warmly at him. “Sure.” Dane strode up to the case and scanned the items. He didn’t want to spend money on anything extra, but he figured he would have to buy a cookie. If he purchased something, he could sit here out of the wispy snow and call Doctor Henderson. They said they would meet at eight, but Dane knew that Doc’s home was in the next town over. Maybe he was having problems getting over the mountain. It was now fifteen minutes after. “It’s mighty cold out tonight.” The woman walked toward an industrial coffee pot against the wall. “You want a coffee to warm ya? It’s on the house. We’re closin’ at nine, and I’ll be pourin’ it out soon.” “Thanks.” Dane spotted a small plate in the case labeled peach cobbler. “I’ll take a piece of cobbler too.” “Good choice.” The woman set a foam cup on the counter and went for the dessert. “Ginger made it and brung it over the mountain this mornin’.” “I know you’re closing soon, but I’m waiting for someone. Do you mind if I sit?” “Sit fer a spell. You look new in town.” She rang him up, and Dane gave her his money before he picked up the plate and the cup. “Who ya waitin’ fer?” “I don’t know if you know him.” Dane paused. “Doctor Henderson?” The woman picked up a fork and then paused mid-handing the utensil to him. She stood there so long that Dane wondered if she was having a stroke. “Are you alright?” “Oh, dear.” She finally handed him the fork, and then her eyes misted with tears. “Doc died two days ago. I’m so sorry. It was a heartattack. Very sudden. Everyone in these-here parts has been talkin’ ’bout it.” “I didn’t know.” Dane’s mind spun. The doctor was dead. What the hell was he going to do now? “Maybe ya should sit.” The lady gestured to a table, and Dane nodded. “Can I get ya anythin’ else?” “No. I’m fine.” Dane sat with his coffee and the cobbler and tossed his overnight bag to the floor. Staring at the peaches, he tried to come up with what to do now. Traveling here to see the Doc was his last plan for saving his house. Suddenly, all his problems felt too big. What he needed was money and fast. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a criminal. Short of knocking off a liquor store, he had no idea how to fix his life so that the bank didn’t take his home. The door chimed, and in walked a customer. “Hey, Skeeter,” the woman behind the counter called. The name had Dane looking up from his cup. In the city, he’d never heard anyone called Skeeter. The scruffy mountain man, Skeeter, was tall with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and thick thighs. With his right hand, he pushed back thick, shaggy brown hair in a mullet. His left arm he held close to his body as if protecting an injury. The wrist had a black brace from fringers to elbow. The man wasn’t the type to turn heads like a model or an actor, but as he limped to the counter, Dane found himself appreciating how his blue jeans clung to his rounded ass and powerful-looking thighs. This man had a little something-something. “Evenin’ Sharon.” Skeeter’s voice was husky and deep with that honeyed Southern accent. “Did Ginger bring cobbler?” The sexy tone swirled in Dane’s stomach. As the stranger told the cashier what he wanted, he set two paper bags on the counter. Once again, Dane’s eyes raked his bulky coat, wondering if that was fluff or muscles. He was pretty sure those were all muscles. Dane had no idea why he was appreciating some random country boy in the mountains. Hook-ups, dating, sex, all those things were the last thing he had time for in his life. Dane had real problems to solve, and even if this guy did have broad shoulders and a nice ass, it didn’t mean anything. The man was probably straight, and Dane wasn’t into unshaven mountain men with their jeans tucked into their giant work boots. Plus, Dane now had to figure out a way home. When he returned to the city, he had to devise a way to pay the back mortgage before the bank foreclosed. “Have a good night.” Skeeter turned to leave, and Dane lifted his gaze. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the stranger completely captivated Dane. Feelings of restless desire hit him. Sparks sizzled. Love at first sight wasn’t real, but something here came alive. Soulful, dark hazel eyes penetrated him. They stared at each other for way longer than was appropriate in any situation, but Dane couldn’t seem to break the eye contact. The feelings that surged through him were like they had been together before. Maybe they had met each other in a past life since Dane was sure he’d never seen this guy. Skeeter wasn’t polished or groomed, but his face was still attractive with his beard scruff, and pretty eyes. This man looked honest, solid, and kind. The sense of dependability about him was hotter than sizzling good looks and a huge dick. As if at the same time, they both realized they stared at each other, they both looked away. Dane dropped his eyes to his coffee. Skeeter fumbled with his paper bags, grabbed the plastic bag from Ginger, and hurried out the exit. The bell chimed again. |
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