Fractured

Oops. Haven’t posted here lately. I’ll chock that up to my fractured sense of time. Or, instead, to the many times I’ve thought about blogging, but other shiny things have distracted me. Either way, shame on Pia. So, let’s chat now.

I sent out the punk rocker story for consideration. I still think of it as “the punk rocker story” instead of its title – A Hound’s Love – because I’m not in love with that title. I sent it to Loose Id, so I’m not holding my breath just yet. I had to submit Summer Lust (which became Make You Sweat - Loose Id, August ’11) three times before a contract arrived in my inbox. I think I’ve learned some things since then, so I’m hoping to cut that down a bit. Either way, I used the waiting as an excuse – “I’ll post to the blog when I have an acceptance.” Uh-huh. Yeah.

Onward! Currently, I’m meandering about in my WiP folders. I have a synopsis for a Coming Out call (LI), plus two outlines for A Sexy Mind call (Silver). Both of those calls have deadlines, and in the meantime, instead of working on those, I’m fiddling with the second book in the Personal Demons series (the sequel to Man Whore) which, while overdue, does not have a deadline.

See… lovely sense of time. Yes? Laugh away, I’m used to it.

And now for a few quickies:

  • Freedom’s Souvenir is approaching a milestone. It’s just under 300 downloads from Smashwords. If you haven’t read it yet, you can get your copy HERE.
  • The Little Birdie rumor mill says Man Whore should go to audio production soon. I’m not looking forward to listening to the entire thing to approve the recording, but then I read it a gazillion times to get it ready for publication. I may be sick of it, but if you’ve been waiting to hear it, all I can say is… some time this year. Yep. Helpful. I know.
  • The running is coming back to me, little by little. With running comes the writing. The Muse is optimistic… and teasing… and still a pain in my a—
  • When the heck did I fall down the rabbit hole?? My Sunday to Slash & Burn is coming up this weekend. Stay tuned as I track down winter.
  • I’m singing out loud while I work. Perhaps I should write a series of blog posts inspired by random songs playing on my iPod. Interested?

Have a great weekend, dear Readers.

Ciao,
Pia Veleno


Freebies from fellow M/M authors

The fourth and final edition of the Don’t Read In the Closet anthology released by the M/M Romance Group on GoodReads.com is now available for free download!

That means 29 more stories, all free, all sexy manlove. This edition has my own Freedom’s Souvenir, as well as stories from Sloan Parker, KZ Snow, Megan Derr, and 20+ other authors who donated their time and creativity to making this an amazing release.

For more information on authors, stories, and to download this edition, click HERE. You do not need to be a member of the group to download, but doing so will give you access to other free read projects and a number of great forum threads about the M/M romance genre.

The other editions of this fabulous anthology (all still free to download) can be found at these links:

Don’t Read in the Closet: GayRomLit Retreat 2011 Special Edition 
Don’t Read in the Closet: Volume One 
Don’t Read in the Closet: Volume Two 
Don’t Read in the Closet: Volume Three

And, of course,

Don’t Read in the Closet: Volume Four

What a ridiculous amount of freebies!

Happy reading, dear Readers. Thank you for your support.

Ciao,
Pia Veleno


Quickies. AKA News.

     Fallen is now available in Audio format!

Download audio files from Silver Publishing with this nifty buy button:

 

~*~

Today is my day to Slash & Burn. Drop by and read about how I get around the tendency to fail at New Year’s resolutions, and share your promises to yourself for 2012.

Click here to Slash & Burn.

~*~

On the Works in Progress front, I’m nearly done with the still Untitled M/M punk rocker story. I’ve fallen into that pit of revision where I fiddle and fiddle, never deciding it’s “done” and ready to be submitted. It will go out within the next couple of weeks.  Keep an eye out on this blog for more information about Hecate’s Hounds.

~*~

Lastly, as we rang in the New Year with friends, the sand trucks rumbled by as the roads froze. It may be winter here, but you can still enjoy a sweet, sexy summer fling. Make You Sweat is now available at all of your favorite distributor sites:

Amazon, Barnes & Noble, AllRomanceeBooks, Fictionwise, and Loose Id.

Probably others too, but those are my favorites. Plus, Amazon and B&N have it on sale. Save a buck!

~*~

Happy New Year, dear Readers!

Ciao,
Pia Veleno


Read a cut Christmas scene from Man Whore

Have you been following the Christmas Extravaganza? Then you know today is my day of Christmas on Kathleen’s blog. Drop by to read a free cut scene from Man Whore, and sign up for her holiday raffle.


5 Angel Review for Man Whore

My wonderful editor pointed out this review a couple of weeks ago, but I’ve been so frazzled by a multitude of things that I forgot to share it. Bad writer, bad!

So, yes, five of five angels for Man Whore. Not only does this make me very happy because Teresa of Fallen Angel Reviews really got the story, but it means even more because this is the book that didn’t fair so well on GoodReads. When a reader loves reading what the writer most loved writing about a book, it is a wonderful thing to experience.

About Man Whore, Teresa says:

“There is more to this story than I ever anticipated and it captured my imagination from the start. I love a good paranormal book and this series has only scratched the surface of what I guess is yet to come.”

And:

“There are so many questions that are yet to be answered until the next book is released and I can’t wait to uncover each of them!”

To read the entire review, visit www.FallenAngelReviews.com.

Thank you Teresa and Fallen Angel Reviews!


Slut Around (fiction)

The prompt: a cross-dresser. Enjoy!

~*~

Elliot flashed his most charming grin at the waiter as the man dropped off two cold beer bottles and took away the empties.

Jason kicked him under the table. Hard. “Cut it out. I know we’re not a thing anymore, but if you ditch me for another bathroom blow job, I’ll cancel our Friday night bar hops indefinitely.”

Elliot turned his cheeky grin on Jason. “Why did we stop fucking?”

“You’re choice, babe. You wanted your freedom.”

“Oh right.” He raised his beer but didn’t take a sip. “The freedom to slut around.”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Hey, I’m kidding.” He leaned over and kissed Jason’s cheek. “Different goals and dreams,” he said more seriously. “You’ll always be my bestie though.”

“Oh gods, please don’t start speaking like a teenage girl again.” Jason threw his hands over his eyes and groaned. “I’m not sure I’m up for one of your flamboyant moods.”

Elliot laughed, clinked his beer against Jason’s, and then drank deeply. As he lowered his bottle, his eyes widened. He grabbed Jason’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. In a stage whisper, he said, “Jase, check out that hottie.”

As Jason looked up, Elliot winked at the stranger. The man lounged in his seat, one arm thrown over the back of his chair, making his screen printed band t-shirt pull tight across his well toned chest. He raised one dark eyebrow and frowned at Elliot. His gaze drifted to the right and took in Jason.

“He’s checking you out,” Elliot said in the same stage whisper. The stranger’s dubious expression morphed into a half-lidded smirk and he nodded as if in agreement, never taking his eyes off of Jason.

“If you don’t go get him, Elliot said, “I’m going to.”

The stranger stood and walked around his table, his gaze intent on Jason.

“Nice, you can’t chicken out now.” Amusement painted Elliot’s words.

“Shut up, Elliot.”

“Whoa…”

No sooner did the word escape Elliot’s month than Jason thought the same thing. Whoa. Sexy… and in a short pleated skirt with lace trim. He must’ve lost a bet, but Jason couldn’t tear his eyes off of the outfit. The hem of the skirt was barely legal. Jason caught himself wondering what the man wore underneath – nothing would be nice, but…

He shook his head as the skirt stopped in front of him. Thoughts of a thick, excited package wrapped in lace wouldn’t leave his mind.

“Like it?” the stranger asked in a husky voice.

“Yes,” Elliot said.

Jason elbowed Elliot. “He was asking me,” he said.

“So answer him.”

Elliot propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. Jason didn’t find the pose cute anymore, but – his gaze returned to the man in the skirt – he suddenly had much better things to look at.

“You lose a bet?” Jason asked.

The man laughed and pulled out an empty seat. He sat down and looked back and forth between Jason and Elliot. “Nope,” he said. “You two looking for a third?”

Jason recoiled but quickly recovered. “No. Been there, done that.” He glared at Elliot. “Or him, I should say.” He returned his gaze to the stranger, taking in the whole package from parted knees, to teasingly short skirt, to hard muscles all the way up his torso and down his arms, to the square jaw, sprinkled with dark stubble as if he groomed himself to have an eternal five o’clock shadow, to soft brown-black eyes and hair of the same color falling long over his brows and dancing back behind his ears. Lots of it.

Jason forced himself to breath. He liked having a good handful of hair to…

“Good,” the stranger said, interrupting Jason’s thoughts. “I don’t share. I don’t,” –he glanced at Elliot– “slut around.”

Elliot laughed, standing. “Sounds all kinds of boring. I’ll be on the dance floor. Have fun.” Jason stared after Elliot, surprised that he hadn’t made another play for the stranger.

“Still want him?”

With a start, Jason realized the man had moved closer, his mouth now close enough to feel his breath. Jason looked down at full lips, and threw caution to the wind. “Not at all,” he said. “I’m very much over him.”

“And slutting around?” Those sexy lips smiled and parted, revealing just a hint of teeth behind them.

“Has never been my thing.” Jason tore his eyes off the man’s mouth and looked into his eyes. “You?”

“I already said–”

Jason leaned forward, closing the distance and cutting off the man’s words with a swift kiss designed only to keep himself from chickening out and running for the safety of Elliot on the dance floor. What developed, however, was a different kind of kiss entirely. Tongues tangled, as both men moved into the union with soft whimpering moans. The stranger grabbed Jason’s biceps, pulling him closer. Jason let himself be led, easing from his own chair into the man’s lap. One hand landed on the stranger’s bare thigh beneath his ass, and the other looped around behind his neck, fingers drawing through hair, seeking purchase.

Before Jason remembered they were still in public, the stranger pulled his head back, but slipped his arms around Jason’s waist. “I’m Ward, by the way,” he said.

Jason laughed. “I usually get that before I kiss a guy.”

Ward smirked and brushed a light kiss over Jason’s lips. When he pulled back again, Jason blinked and tried to remember what he’d been saying. “Jason,” he said. “I’m…”

“Mine,” Ward said. He tightened his embrace and stood, setting Jason gently back on his feet. “That other guy is crazy to let you go.”

“Or you’re crazy for thinking so when we just met.”

Ward leaned in close, his lips brushing Jason’s ear as he spoke. “The way you were devouring me with just a look… I can’t wait to get you home and show you what other lace I own.” Jason gasped, and Ward chuckled. “But not tonight,” Ward said. “I don’t slut around.”

Jason laughed and held out a hand. For once, he was grateful for Elliot’s outrageous bar behavior. He broke the ice with this handsome man in lace. “Dance?”

“With pleasure,” Ward said. Jason let his lacey man lead him to the dance floor, skirt swishing and teasing around his thighs.

~*~

For more free flash fiction from Silver authors, visit these sites all day Wednesday:

(M/M romance)
LM Brown
AJ Jarrett
West Thornhill
Julie Lynn Hayes
Freddy MacKay

(Het, AKA girl parts)
Elyzabeth VaLey
Heather Lin


Christmas Extravaganza

My friend and fellow writer, Kathleen Hayes, is hosting a holiday party in cyberspace. Visit her blog for WiP sneak peaks, short stories, and a chance for free ebooks from several M/M romance authors, plus a mystery prize.

To find out more, visit Kathleen’s blog by clicking HERE.

For my own part in her celebration, I’ll be sharing a short Christmas scene that I originally wrote for Man Whore.

Don’t forget to visit every day!


Now Available: Freedom’s Souvenir

Remember that freebie I wrote for the M/M Romance group on Goodreads.com? I finally made the time to figure out how to format and publish it in ebook format on Smashwords.com.

Not a part of the GoodReads group? Prefer your books on a Kindle, Nook, or other portable device? Click HERE to download your favorite ebook format for free.


Taking the Plunge with Suzanne Rock

Good morning, dear Readers! Today’s special guest is Suzanne Rock. Suzanne is celebrating her latest release, Whispers, and her daughter’s first swim lesson. Oh gods, I’m a sucker for a good ghost story. Come take the plunge with us.

~*~

Taking the Plunge

Do any of you remember what it felt like the first time you jumped into the pool? Were you scared or excited? Did you do it under peer pressure or because you were curious? For me, it happened so long ago that at first I didn’t remember. Then I took my daughter to her first swimming lesson, and all of the emotions came back to me.

I had been talking up the swimming lessons to my daughter for weeks. This was going to be a great adventure. She was excited, and so was I, but then we walked into the pool area and something changed.

I saw the look of horror on my little girl’s face as we walked over the tiled floor and breathed in the chlorine-filled air. She was scared, very scared. My heart skipped a beat. The mother in me wanted to march her right back to the locker room and save her from her fear. Unfortunately, doing this wasn’t going to help her learn how to swim. Since our family spends a lot of time around water in the summer, I knew that this was an important life skill for her to learn.

So, I held my tongue as we watched the other kids jump in and navigate the cool, clear water like experts. My daughter’s fear radiated from her in waves as she sat down and joined her classmates along the edge of the pool. I stepped back and hugged her towel to my chest. Questions filled my mind. Was she really ready for swim lessons? Maybe I should have waited, spent one more summer at the beach, teaching her how to float and kick. What if she couldn’t keep her head above the water? Needless to say, my nerves were shot. What was going to happen to my baby?

The teacher introduced herself, and then one by one her classmates jumped into the pool, their little heads disappearing under the water. My daughter looked back at me with this “Do I really have to do this?” expression on her face. I smiled, even though part of me was dying inside. I wasn’t sure if either one of us were going to be able to go through with it.

Then it was her turn. The plan was simple: jump into the pool, and the teacher would catch her. Afterward, with the instructor’s help, she’d swim to the edge of the pool and hold onto the side. I held my breath. The teacher held out her hands and my daughter gave me one last look. Fear shone bright in her eyes. For a split second, I wanted to grab hold of my little girl and drag her back into the safety of my arms. I didn’t do that, however. Instead I watched and waited.

Then my daughter turned back to the instructor, bent her knees, and jumped.

Water droplets flew in all directions as she flew into the waiting arms of the instructor. Time stood still. Then, in the next moment, she popped up and took a gulp of air. Then the teacher helped her swim to the side. My little girl climbed up out of the water and got in line again.

“That was fun, mommy!”

She jumped into the water three more times that day, and each time she went a little farther under the surface. I finally began to relax and enjoy her growing confidence. Pretty soon, I’m sure she’ll become a pro at jumping into the pool, just like her classmates.

Publishing a book is a little like jumping into a pool. At first you’re scared. Will people like it? Will they understand and love my characters as much as I do? How will they react? You wonder if you should really send that book out into the world, if it’s ready. Knowing that someone else will read and form an opinion about your work can be quite scary. At some point, however, you have to let it go. Some books do beautiful swan dives, and some do belly flops, but each one is special, because you learn and grow from the experience. After some practice, your skills improve. You begin to do more swan dives than belly flops, and your confidence grows. Oh, you still have the occasional belly flop, but now you’re doing twists and flips in the air before you hit the water – and it’s fun. You love the thrill of the jump, the way the water breaks around you as you hit the surface. You couldn’t imagine your life without it.

And you have this great joy in your life because you had the courage to overcome your fear.

So I’m asking all of you today, do you remember what it was like to jump into the pool for the first time? Do you still jump into the pool today, or do you sit on the sidelines? Did you ever have to overcome an inner fear? How did you do it? Tell me about it!

~*~

Thanks Suzanne! I don’t remember my first swim, but I can relate to jumping in with these wonderful stories. 

Speaking of wonderful stories, Suzanne’s latest release, Whispers, is a tempting, sexy ghost story now available from Loose Id. Read on to learn more, dear Readers.

~Pia

~*~

Rose is skeptical when Lady Denville hires her to take care of some ghosts in her townhouse. She expects to find a nest of rats or branches scraping against a window. Instead she finds two sexy spirits intent on fulfilling her every sexual desire. They introduce her to a whole new world of pleasure — and a curse that may destroy them all.

Lionel and Jonathan have been trapped in the townhouse for decades, waiting. When Rose walks in, they know that she is the one with the power to save them. The key to their freedom lies within reach, and both men must put aside their differences if they ever hope to break the curse that binds them to the townhouse. As the men set out to seduce Rose and gain their freedom, their sexual desire turns into something more. Now they must be honest with the woman they love, or stay imprisoned in the spirit world forever.

Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XC4czQ-TVjg

Excerpt:

Rose stood at the top of the stairs and listened. The moans were louder now, and she could easily distinguish the two tones. She scanned the area around her, but it was too dark to see much beyond her hands.

She straightened her light green dress, chosen to match her eyes, and poked a wispy blonde curl back into her twist. If Lady Denville indeed had guests up here, then Rose had to make sure to look her best.

She picked up a candle off the nearby end table and lit it. The soft glow illuminated the hallway, which looked as if it hadn’t had a good dusting in ages. Thick velvet curtains had been pulled over the windows, blocking any light. It was so unlike Lady Denville to keep her upstairs closed up like this.

Besides the depressing atmosphere, nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the crimson carpet and dark wood walls. Rose took a deep breath, steeled her jaw, and stepped forward.

The noises filled the air, fanning her desire from a small spark into a large flame. They were smooth and melodic, almost blending with each other. Her body warmed, and she placed her hand to her cheek. Her husband wasn’t overly amorous, and it had been a long time since she had enjoyed the pleasures of the bedroom. The noises spoke to something feminine and primal deep inside her body. It awoke and rushed through her system, leaving her breathless.

The sensations felt…strange. She had not felt anything so strong before, not even with her own husband. What could be making her feel this way, and could it alleviate the ache forming between her legs? She inched forward a step, then two. With each small advance, her desire grew until she found it difficult to concentrate on the matter at hand. She paused as a name echoed off the walls.

“Jonathan.”

Her skin tingled with sexual awareness as the deep, commanding voice rippled through her body. Rose slid her fingers along the low-cut edge of her dress, then dipped them between her breasts. How did it get so warm in here?

And who was Jonathan?

She continued to the very end of the hall. It was darkest here, the heavy curtains in the windows blocking all light. She heard new noises now, like the shifting of furniture. They seemed to be coming from behind the large wooden door. A low glow shone through the cracks as the moans grew louder.

Heat traveled over her skin as she stared at the strange light. A light breeze blew over her skin, just like it had when she was downstairs moments ago. It did nothing to cool her rising temperature or the fluttering in her stomach.

The flame on the candle flickered, then extinguished. She fought back the sudden urge to shed her clothes as confusion filled her mind. She had to know what was behind the door, not just for Lady Denville’s sake, but for her own. Rose needed to find out what was making her feel like some animal in heat.

Rose felt the familiar ache low in her abdomen. She was desperate for something to ease the building pressure between her legs, but nothing suitable was available. She resisted the urge to rip off her clothes and touch herself, for she suspected such an act would do little to alleviate the growing ache. She craved something bigger and stronger to satisfy her. The whole situation felt barbaric and yet thrilling at the same time.

Rose moistened her lips and turned the knob…

http://www.loose-id.com/Whispers.aspx

~~~Suzanne Rock~~~

Love Immortalized, Destinies Fulfilled

Bio:

After over a decade in the scientific world, Suzanne needed a creative outlet. She tried scrap booking, cooking, crocheting, painting, and piano, none of which held her interest for very long. Then one of her friends suggested writing. Thrilled with the idea of creating her own worlds, she opened up her lap top and never looked back.

When Suzanne’s not writing, she can be found playing with her two daughters, testing her husband’s latest kitchen creations, or curled up with her favorite romance novel in her central Massachusetts home.

Learn more about Suzanne:

Website: www.SuzanneRock.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/suzanne.rock
Twitter: www.twitter.com/Suzanne_Rock


A Simple Joy

As I worked my way through my strength training routine, watching other gym rats walk or run beyond the TV bank, an epiphany hit. I had actually enjoyed the treadmill. After four months of rest and recovery following a stress fracture in my foot, I managed to run three intervals of five minutes each, and I didn’t hurt. I had that runner’s high back. I felt good. I couldn’t wait to tell my love about that big, huge, exciting five minutes. Almost a half mile at my slow, training from injury pace of a 12-minute mile, but it was almost a half mile!

A year ago, I was running four to six miles at a time and dreading the inevitable return to the gym as the narrow roads were too dark after work to run safely. Soon enough, snow banks would add to that danger. I hated the thought. I hated the treadmill. I needed to be outdoors with the fresh air, beautiful scenery, and random turns through my neighborhood, and several others nearby. I needed to be outdoors like I needed to breathe, eat, and sleep.

And yet, as I swung my arms in a delt fly, I realized I had enjoyed the treadmill like I enjoy running outside. It took eight weeks of crutches and eight more of easing back into things as simple as walking around the grocery store to make me appreciate five straight minutes of running in place staring at TV programs I wouldn’t be caught dead watching if I was anywhere else.

The treadmill is not evil. I will not let myself go back to that loathing. As long as I live inNew England, I will suffer brutal winters that force me to use the gym’s treadmill to run. If I start hating that machine again, I will get lazy again. I love to run too much to let something as unavoidable as winter interfere with the soaring beauty of a great run. In my determination to run faster and longer, I had forgotten the pleasure of simply running. Now I remember.

Now I run.


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