Ally – Page 13 – A. L. Lester

Guest Post: Mags Hayward and Sweet as Candy

New author Mags Hayward is here today to talk about her new release, Sweet as Candy and let you read an excerpt. Welcome, Mags!

Hi Ally, thank you so much for inviting me over to your blog. It’s the first time I’ve been here and I’m very excited.

My name is Mags Hayward and I’m a new author writing lesbian romance and erotic romance for JMS Books LLC. I’m here today to talk about my fourth publication, Sweet as Candy, which was written for the JMS Books sweet or spice submission call and published on February 19^th.

Sweet as Candy is a gentle lesbian romance centred on Kate, a nineteen-year-old student who’s never found love. Kate’s lost faith that she’ll ever find the one and certainly doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Meeting Candy, however, is about to change all that.

The story unfolds over one day, from morning ’till late, with the action taking place at a Pride festival organised by Kate’s best friend, Danny. It’s this festival I’d like to talk about.

Jubilee Park Pride is based on a Pride festival that took place in a town near my home in the UK Midlands in 2019. It was the first Pride event the town had staged and was a much anticipated event. I attended in the morning and did my favourite trick of wandering around, blending in invisibly, while people-watching and listening to chatter. I gathered that many of those attending had travelled miles to support the event, some obviously having never visited that town before. There were frequent where’s this, where can I find that questions being asked, all politely answered by the police and other emergency services workers who’d kindly volunteered to act as stewards for the event.

There were locals there too, of course, but I didn’t recognise as many faces as I’d expected. The weather may have been partially to blame. Unlike Jubilee Park Pride’s all-day blazing sunshine, the real 2019 event was plagued by heavy downpours of rain. It didn’t spoil the fun, and I remember everyone smiling and having a great time, but it may have reduced the number of last-minute attendees. Who knows? Anyway, for the purposes of my feel-good short story, I decided to let the sun shine all day.

The decorated shop fronts, outlandish costumes and live events such as the bands in the park and the pub drag night are all based on the real-life Pride festival. It was quite a party – a bright, colourful, rainbow party. Sadly, the 2020 repeat celebration, which was scheduled to be bigger and feature a carnival-style street parade, was cancelled thanks to Covid. The 2021 event was also cancelled. Again, I chose not to reflect this in my story. Jubilee Park got its second Pride festival as, I hope, the town that inspired it will in 2022.

As I said, Sweet as Candy is my fourth publication with JMS Books LLC. My first book, Sydney, One Way, is a lesbian erotic romance flash fiction published the same month as Leap of Faith, a longer sweet lesbian romance. My third book is also a ‘Hot Flash’ – lesbian paranormal romance this time. My next project is another short paranormal romance.

Thank you for reading. Best wishes, Mags x

Sweet as Candy by Mags Hayward

The first Jubilee Park Pride is in full swing and Kate’s soaking up the carnival atmosphere and energy of the flamboyant crowd. Although she’s there to support the event organiser, her best friend Danny, Pride has a special place in her heart.

She loves being a part of it—but doesn’t expect to find love. Never having had a girlfriend, Kate lacks confidence and can’t imagine meeting a girl and falling in love on the same day. That happens to other people. Certainly not to her.

But Candy’s different: beautiful, confident, yet down to earth and easy to talk to. Kate’s never met anyone like her. Has Fate brought her and Candy together—or will Kate be broken-hearted when the Festival ends?

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Read an Excerpt

Crossing the road, Kate ran ahead, eager to explore. Like the theatre, Jubilee Park was bigger than she’d expected, and the town’s first ever Pride—Danny’s debut as an event organiser—was buzzing. Bunting fluttered from anything tall enough to tie it to; stallholders lined the paths, selling everything you’d expect at a festival from handmade, tie-dyed clothing, to local honey, and sizzling ‘healthy alternatives’ fast food.
The park sloped downhill, and the lower area was filled with giant inflatable slides, bouncy castles, and kiddies’ roundabouts. Children’s shrieks and laughter cut through the pounding music pumping through speakers strapped to the trees. The park was alive with colour, music, delicious smells, and an atmosphere so joyous it brought a tear to Kate’s eye.
“Danny”—Kate flung her arms around Danny’s neck—“I’m so proud of you.”
“Aw, babes… Now get off me and take a proper look. The bands will be performing on the bandstand over there.”
“Where?”
“Step to your right. See it?”
Kate spotted a hexagonal structure in the centre of the park, partially hidden behind an ancient oak. She walked a few steps further to get a better view. With ornate pillars and intricate trellises around its conical roof, the bandstand was an impressive relic of Victoriana. The raised stage was piled high with speakers, drum kit, and keyboards, while a DJ had squeezed his equipment onto the top step. Wearing oversized headphones, he waved his arms to the beat, rallying the crowd.
Kate eyed the multitude already gathered around the bandstand and gasped, heart leaping into her mouth—the girl with the multi-coloured hair was right there. She was talking to the blond girl and three others, hands moving animatedly as she chatted. The girl suddenly threw back her head, coloured locks flying, then she swayed to the music, arms above her head, dancing like no one could see.

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Meet Mags

Originally from North Wales, Mags Hayward lives in the UK Midlands with her family. Theatre Administrator by day, she started writing in 2012 and her debut novella, The Devil on Her Shoulder was published in January 2017. Mags is a hopeless romantic who’s forever daydreaming. She writes lesbian contemporary romance and erotic romance.

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London Calling release day!

Today is the official release day of London Calling, the box set of my 1920s London Border Magic series! It comprises Lost in Time, Shadows on the Border & The Hunted and the Hind.

To celebrate I have a giveaway! Roll up, roll up! And read all about it!

London Calling Box Set

Queer British Lovecraftian historical romantic suspense set in 1920s London.

Lew Tyler is dragged from 2016 to 1920 by an accident with border magic whilst he’s searching for his missing friend. He’s struggling to get to grips with life a century before he was born. Detective Alec Carter is trying to solve gruesome murders in his patch of London, weighed down with exhaustion and a jaded attitude to most of his fellow humans after four years of war. In the middle of a murder investigation that involves wild magic, mysterious creatures and illegal sexual desire, will Alec and Lew work out who is safe to trust?

Sergeant Will Grant, Alec’s right-hand man, is drawn to the mysterious Fenn. Is Fenn a man or a woman? Does Will care? And Fenn…Fenn has a secret. They live beyond the border between 1920s London and the magical Outlands and they need to get home. Are they prepared to achieve that by double crossing Alec, Will and Lew?

Two couples hold the fabric of reality in their hands. Will it make them or break them?

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WIN!

To win a copies of the London Calling audiobooks, Lost in Time, Shadows on the Border & The Hunted and the Hind, pop on over to the Audiobook Draw and throw your hat in the ring! Id’ be really grateful if you could share it on social media once you’ve entered if you could bear to…you’ll get more chances to win and more people will see it! (You can also listen to excerpt and buy them here)

Lost in Time,. Shadows on the Border & The Hunted and the Hind audiobook covers

Read an Excerpt

Carter on his doorstep when he got home again was just taking the piss. All Lew wanted to do was climb into his bed and sleep and pretend he was in his comfortable flat-share in 2016 and could wake up and listen to his iPod.
He didn’t even bother to greet Carter this time, just wordlessly locked up the bike and opened the door into the flat so he could come inside. He was glowering again. Lew wished he could say it didn’t suit him. “Come in. Glowering doesn’t suit you.”
Carter grunted wordlessly and suddenly Lew had had enough of it.
“No, honestly. It makes your face all scrunched up—” he demonstrated, “—and I’m sure it’s bad for you. Wrinkles or something.” He couldn’t seem to shut up. Poking a bear would probably have been safer. He wanted to get through to him, though, he wanted to make him growl. The other day and being punched in the face had at least proved Carter had some emotion in there somewhere; he couldn’t feel anything from him, most of the time. He chucked his biking goggles onto the small settee and turned to the kitchen cupboard. “Do you want a drink? I’m having a drink. I’ve had a shit day so far...a shit week, in fact.” He paused, considering, “...maybe even a shitty two years. And so, I’m going to have a drink. You’re welcome to join me.”
He clattered the bottle and a couple of glasses out of the cupboard and smashed them unsteadily down on the counter top. He felt unsteady all over, actually, as if he’d already drunk too much. Adrenaline, and lack of sleep, probably.
He pulled the cork out of the bottle and started to slop spirit into the glasses. Then, all of a sudden, Carter moved to stand close behind him, still not speaking. He hadn’t been expecting it and it made him even more mentally off balance.
He could feel the warmth of the other man’s body through the back of his shirt, although they weren’t touching. He was boxed in by his arms, either side of him, hands flat on the counter. It was shockingly intimate, although Lew didn’t think Carter meant it to be. He meant it to be intimidating. The otherman said, softly, “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me what’s going on. Why have I got more dead men turning up with the same wounds as your friend Fornham?”
Bloody hell. More of them. That was very, very bad. “Get off me.” Lew spoke equally quietly.
There was a pause for a second. “No,” said Carter.
“You don’t know what you’re messing with. Get off me.” Again, that pause.
“No.” His voice was rougher this time.
Lew noticed Carter’s knuckles were white where he was holding the countertop either side of the whisky bottle and the glasses. He shivered.
Suddenly he could feel things coming off Carter after all: the want and the fear and the desperate sense of disgust at himself. The anger and the confusion he felt toward Lew because he wanted Lew and yet he didn’t trust him, with this or with anything, and it was all against his better judgement. The emotions hit him like a wall coming up out of the dark all at once and completely floored him; and he gasped.
Slowly, he pushed the bottle away from him—always with the drink when Carter was around, he absently thought—and turned around, careful not to touch him. They were nearly of a height—he didn’t have to tilt his head much to see that Carter’s eyes were green. Lashes long and dark. He didn’t pull back. It was mid-afternoon and his beard was coming through.
Lew swallowed. “I don’t want to lie to you.”
It came out rougher than he had intended and Carter’s eyes dropped to his mouth.
“Then don’t!” He pulled back angrily and turned away, hands shoving fiercely through his hair. “Tell me what’s going on!”
“Carter...Alistair...” He couldn’t bear the wave of confused anger and emotion coming off the man and he stepped forward and put his hand on his arm, turning him back toward him.
“Alec...”
Carter jerked back as if he’d been burned.

Buy London Calling

Victorian Nurses in the British Army

The Quid Pro Quo is the second in the Bradfield trilogy, although it will stand alone. It’s set a few months after the end of The Fog of War and stars Sylvia’s friend Walter Kennett, and Simon Frost, a detective who comes to Bradfield to investigate a murder. It’s a gay, historical, paranormal, romantic murder-mystery with a m/transm couple set in rural England in 1920.

One of the things I researched when I was beginning to think about Walter’s background was exactly what training he’d have had as a nurse (or an orderly) in the British army. The answer to that question was ‘not a great deal’ in that Victorian army nurses seemed to have been expected to pick things up as they went along. Before the advent of Florence Nightingale and her cohort during the Crimean War in the mid-nineteenth century, nurses had all been men and they had been attached to individual regiments.

Outrage at the terrible conditions in the Crimea led to the development of a Medical Staff Corps in 1855, which recruited ‘Men able to read and write, of regular steady habits and good temper and of a kindly disposition’. This was renamed the Army Hospital Corps in 1857 and reverted back to being the Medical Staff Corps again in 1884*. Confusingly, the medical officers were known as the Medical Staff…and in 1898, the Medical Staff Corps and the Medical Staff were combined into Royal Army Medical Corps.

This is where Walter comes in.

In my head, he joins up as the two organisations are being merged together and he sort of slips through the gaps, staying hidden as a trans man with the help of the doctor who did his medical when he recruited him and possibly with a bit of a blind eye being turned by his army mates. He serves in the Boer War in South Africa and subsequently all over the British Empire before ending up at Sylvia’s hospital in France in World War One. By the time we meet him 1920, he’s forty and had served in the army for twenty-one years.

That brings me to a really interesting blog post about male nurses in the 1920s I found at This Intrepid Band-a blog dedicated to the history of military nursing. Nursing regulation was pretty slapdash until the end of the First World War. Hospitals trained nurses for between one and three years and gave them a certificate. But…anyone could call themselves a nurse even without that training.

After 1919, that changed. I won’t replicate all the qualifying criteria here, you can read it at This Intrepid Band if you want to…but Walter would have fallen under the ‘three years military experience’ criteria. However, as a man, he would have been singularly alone. Even in 1928, although there were forty thousand women on the new register, there were only two hundred men.

I don’t know whether there were any male nurses working at village practices in the early twenties; but I suspect it’s very unlikely. Most of the nurses in 1928 were in prisons or mental hospitals, presumably dealing with men who were considered dangerous and perhaps unsafe for women nurses to care for. Walter’s like Sylvia though, in that he feels that he’s done his bit keeping other people safe and looking after strangers. He wants to be part of a community and part of family as much as he can. So a small village, with his friends, suits him fine.

I hope you like his story!

The Quid Pro Quo

Village nurse Walter Kennett is content with his makeshift found family in tiny Bradfield. However, when a body is found floating in the village duck pond one midsummer morning, danger arrives too.

Between his attraction to detective Simon Frost, concealing Sylvia and Lucy’s relationship and not knowing how much to reveal about the paranormal possibilities of the murder, Walter is torn all ways.

The Quid Pro Quo is a 50,000 word romantic historical paranormal murder-mystery set in 1920s rural England where nearly everyone is queer and the main couple is m/transm.

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(Some of this post was published as a guest post at Addison Albright’s blog in November ’21)

Ofelia Grand and The Drunken Dog

Hello, everyone! Thank you, Ally, for letting me drop by again. I’m trying to remember when I was here last and what I talked about then.

Bragging was what I was doing 😁 (You’re always welcome anyway, Ofelia!)

I talked about how my alter ego, Holly Day, had written 12 stories in 12 months – we’re working on story number 18 in 18 months now. I submitted Holly’s May story – a story for World Naked Gardener Day, and it’s all Ally’s fault (This is actually true, sorry – Ally) – a few days ago, and I’m now working on the June story.

But just like last time I was here, I have a new story out, and it’s one of those either-or stories that JMS Books have every other month. This time the call was for either Sugar or Spice stories. I went with Spice.

In a way, I’ve messed up. Last time I was here, I talked about The Ruby Tooth, which was a Naughty or Nice story. This time I have The Drunken Dog. Both stories have shifters and fated mates, and both stories are named after pubs, but they’re not in a series. If I’d been thinking, I’d have turned them into a series, but I wasn’t thinking.

I have a super short story called Cup o’ Sugar. Cup o’ Sugar is a cafe where Sam works, and Sam happens to be Roarak’s mate. Roarak is the alpha of the Halfhide pack – a werewolf pack.

The Drunken Dog is about Zev, who also is a member of the Halfhide pack, though he’s not really a werewolf. The stories are very loosely linked, and I intend for all the stories I write about members from Roarak’s pack to be standalone.

In April, The Cake Shop will be released. It’s about York, another member of the pack, and The Cake Shop is a bakery. So, all the stories in this series are named after establishments, they’re all similar, and at a glance, you’d think The Ruby Tooth would be part of it, but it’s not.

I usually pride myself on having a plan, but… Hindsight is a bitch.

But enough about me nagging about what-ifs and regrets. Do you want to read an excerpt from The Drunken Dog?

I picked a part where Zev is at The Drunken Dog and talks to Otis, who is a vampire. I’ve thrown all kinds of monsters into these stories. Zev, for example, is a cú sídhe which is a mythological hound from Irish folklore. They’re huge moss-green beasts the size of a cow that bark three times – maybe I should’ve talked about that instead of ranting about titles LOL

Excerpt from The Drunken Dog

Zev pushed open the door to The Drunken Dog, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it mostly empty, but disappointment quickly followed. He’d hoped Otis would be here. The image of him twirling his glass and smiling at Zev had popped up in his mind more times than he could count, and he wanted to talk to him again, preferably without a crowd around. Otis wasn’t the only reason he’d come, though.
He grabbed the first stool he could find, placed his elbows on the bar, and rested his head in his hands.
It had been five days since he’d been there. It was the longest he’d been away since he’d found it, but today he needed a drink in the worst way.
He and Roarak had been building a carport when three wolves from the Bloodclaw pack who controlled the eastern part of the city had shown up. There had been taunts and posturing and when one of the Bloodclaws had threatened to take Sam—Roarak’s mate—the shit had hit the fan.
Roarak had clawed one of them, and Zev suspected there would be repercussions. When one of the Bloodclaws had gone for him, he’d flashed teeth. He hadn’t flashed teeth in years.
The way the wolf had backed away formed a knot in Zev’s gut. He shouldn’t have shown his teeth. Now he’d made their pack more of a target.
Roarak had clapped his shoulder and told him they had to go home to inform the others and set up a schedule to guard Sam. Zev always kept his distance from Sam, not because he disliked him, but Sam was a precog, and Zev feared he’d be able to tell things about him if he stayed close.
“What can I get you?”
Zev raised his head to meet Gerald’s gaze. “Whiskey.”
“Rough day?”
Zev sighed and eyed Gerald. Did he know about what went bump in the night? He most likely did. The way he’d told Zev he didn’t want any trouble made him think he did.
“The worst.”
Gerald tilted his head. “Anything I should know about?”
Ah, definitely someone aware of there being things going on in the city that didn’t show on the surface. Zev shrugged. “Nah, I think you’re fine.” He hoped.
The bar was in their area, or the area they considered theirs—the Bloodclaws didn’t agree.
“Internal or external problems?”
Zev grinned. “You surprise me, Gerald.”
Gerald raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling. “There’s more to me than meets the eye.”
Zev snorted. “You’re human.”
“I am, but I’ve known Otis a long time, and I’ve owned this bar for a long, long time.” He poured Zev’s whiskey. “I should retire, but I worry.”
“About?”
“Otis. This is where he comes when he starts over. I don’t know where he’d end up if I closed.”
Zev frowned. Otis had lived far longer than Gerald had. “I’m sure he’d be fine.”
Gerald shook his head. “He doesn’t have anyone. He hides from other…” He looked around. “…of his kind, and—” He shook his head.
“And?” Hides? His heart beat faster. Was Otis in danger? He should come by more often just to make sure he was okay.
“I know he can take care of himself, he’s no fool, but he’s vulnerable.”
“You’re his dayman?”
“Dayman?”
“You’re not.” Zev took a sip of the whiskey.
“I don’t think he has one.”
“Then he is vulnerable.”
“Who is?” Otis swept in through the door and leaned against the bar next to Zev. Zev turned on his stool to invite Otis to come closer. “Good morning. You’re up early.” He glanced at the clock on the wall behind the bar. The sun had set ten minutes ago.
“I woke up thirsty. Rum, please, Gerald.”
Zev narrowed his eyes. “Should you start your day with alcohol?”
“You’re willing to donate something more substantial?”
For a second, Zev considered it, but one sip and Otis would know he wasn’t a normal shifter. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
Otis pursed his lips. “But you’re not repulsed by it?”
Repulsed? “Why would I be?”
“Shifters normally are. Killing cute, innocent bunnies when running around as wolf is fine and dandy, but taking a sip from someone’s neck or elsewhere—” He wiggled his eyebrows. “—is appalling.”
Zev chuckled and shook his head. Heat shot through him as he pictured Otis’ mouth on him. “Nah, you’re fine with me.” He shouldn’t have said that. “Are you sure you should be drinking rum before breakfast? Don’t you have a donor on your payroll?” He’d believed all vampires had donors at hand.
“Are you my mother? I have no memory of her, but I find it hard to believe she’d look like you.”
Zev shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”
“No, I don’t think there ever will be one for me. We turn to ash, you know.”
Zev rubbed his forehead. He didn’t have the energy to keep up the banter.
Otis stiffened, and Zev instantly looked around the room in search of a threat.
“You smell wrong.”
“What?” Zev gave up on finding a threat by the empty tables and looked at Otis.
“You smell… Your scent is spicy or it was spicy the other day, now it’s woodsier.”
Stupidly, Zev pulled in a breath. “I’ve been working with wood.”
“No, that’s not it.” Otis’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been around wolves? Other wolves, I mean?”
“Well, yeah, I live with five of them.”

The Drunken Dog

Zev Nightfall has a secret. For two years, he’s been the beta in a loosely knitted werewolf pack, but he’s not a werewolf. He’s a crossbreed, part wolf, part fae, which is a death sentence in most packs. That’s not his only problem. One night he meets Otis, a vampire. Shifters and vampires aren’t friends, yet fighting is the last thing on Zev’s mind.

Otis Miller is in the middle of rebuilding his rockstar persona. Again. A hundred years ago, all he had to do was to move when people started noticing him not ageing. With cameras and social media, it doesn’t work anymore, and he isn’t sure he has the energy to start over. Then there is the shifter coming to the bar where he’s singing. He makes Otis want to jump off the stage and never look back.

Zev knows he shouldn’t get involved with a vampire; he has enough problems as it is. But Otis is alone and vulnerable, and it tugs at Zev’s heartstrings. Normally, Otis stays away from other supernatural beings, but something about Zev makes him want to curl up on his lap and forget about the world around them. But how would two people from enemy species make things work, and will Zev’s pack ever accept not only a crossbreed but a vampire as well?

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About Ofelia

Ofelia Gränd is Swedish, which often shines through in her stories. She likes to write about everyday people ending up in not-so-everyday situations, and hopefully also getting out of them. She writes romance, contemporary, paranormal, Sci-Fi and whatever else catches her fancy.

Her books are written for readers who want to take a break from their everyday life for an hour or two.

When Ofelia manages to tear herself from the screen and sneak away from her husband and children, she likes to take walks in the woods…if she’s lucky she finds her way back home again.

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Jaymie Wagner: Interview and her debut release, Orphan’s Cry

Today we welcome debut author Jaymie Wagner to the blog. Jaymie, welcome! Thank you so much for visiting. Do you have any particular reason for popping in today?

I have my first novel, Orphan’s Cry, being published by JMS Books at the end of February! Even better, it’s the first book in a trilogy, so I’m pretty excited about going from 0 published novels to 3 by the end of this year.

More importantly – I’m doing this because I love these characters and their story, and I am hoping that you will too.

What started you writing?

I loved stories as a kid, and my parents taught me to read at a pretty early age so they could share their love of books with me.

I started writing down the stories I came up with as soon as I learned how to, and I’ve never really stopped since.

Where do you write?

I have a beautiful old wooden roll top desk that I inherited from my grandparents, who got it from my great grandfather. It’s nearly 150 years old and I have so many good memories of watching my grandmother using it when she was writing letters, or my grandfather using the computer they eventually kept in it to check his golf league scores.

Every time I sit down with it, I get a big hit of nostalgia and love, and it helps kickstart my writing.

Before I got the desk, I would keep my laptop with me and basically write wherever I was when I felt the inspiration to do so – or write notes to myself on my phone when I didn’t have it with me!

(I think the best story I can tell you was when I got the idea for a short story while hiking in Appalachia, and I literally sat down on a rock and wrote the first ~1000 words on my phone then and there because I didn’t want to lose it!)

What do you like to read?

Fantasy and Sci-fi books were my first love, and will always have a special place in my heart, but I’ve gotten fascinated by non-fiction works that dig into why people do things, and how we are shaped by our communities, environments, and intersectional factors.

I read an amazing book recently called The Alchemy of Us by Ainissa Ramierz that talks about how the things we create and shape also shape us in turn, and it was fascinating!

What are the three books you’d take to a desert island? Why would you choose them?

An omnibus edition of Lois McMaster Bujold’s Vorkosigan Saga. As someone who was born disabled, Miles Vorkosigan was a hero I could see myself in when I started reading the books as a kid, and as I have gotten older they still resonate deeply. When I transitioned, I chose my new middle name (Delia) in honor of Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan, who I think is a great role model for the woman I want to be when I grow up.
The Hobbit. When my family took our first “big trip” together that didn’t involve driving to see my grandparents, my dad bought the BBC radio audio drama of the unabridged Hobbit (six tapes!) and we listened to it as we drove from our house in Ohio to a vacation in Virginia. I have a lot of good memories of listening to those tapes, and it was one of the first books I read cover to cover by myself.
Every Tool’s A Hammer, Adam Savage’s biography. I was a huge fan of Mythbusters for both the explosions and the problem solving, and I ended up following Adam on social media and his Tested video channel where he continues to share builds, tools, talks through problem solving and shows off the neat stuff he finds. I love how inspired and energetic he can be about the simplest things, and hey, if I’m stuck on a desert island, I bet he’s got some plans for a duct tape house in there…

Writing is an intrinsically solo occupation. Do you belong to any groups or associations, either online or in the ‘real’ world? How does that work for you?

I really enjoy both writing and reading fanfiction, so I’m in a few different discord servers here and there for both authors and fandoms I enjoy. It can be fun to fangirl, vent, or just sit around and bitch / brainstorm there and see what happens!

I’m friends in real life with some wonderfully talented authors (Lucy A. Snyder, Sarah Hans, Gary Braunbeck, and more) and I like getting together physically or virtually to just hang out and have fun too, but I am not part of other groups – yet.

Once the novel is released I will qualify for SFWA and RWA memberships, so I’ll apply for those as well. It never hurts to have more resources at your disposal!

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

Oh goodness. So many things!

I paint miniatures as a hobby, particularly Battletech, and love to build Gundam models, hence my collection of tiny giant robots. I live with two cats, Mr. B and Rocket, who are respectively a massive asshole and a ginger himbo. My partners, Dee and Katherine, have their own place which they share with five cats, Dee’s support dog, Timbit, and a hedgehog named Swirl – Timbit has basically adopted me, the hedgehog enjoys climbing up into my hair while Dee’s younger spawn cleans her tank, and the cats have deemed me tolerable, which I will take. 🙂

I love to cook, even though my disability sometimes makes it more difficult than I would like, and I enjoy lots of different shows and movies on Netflix, Hulu, and other services. Dee in particular is a big fan of disaster movies, and I love watching her watching them!

As far as learning something new, my parents used to make me do violin lessons when I was a kid, which I eventually stopped as I got older. Early in 2020, a friend bought a new electric violin and I was struck with an urge to play one, so I ended up getting back into the art with a local teacher who could do video call lessons, and I performed a solo piece for a recital last November!

Tell me a little bit about your most recent release. What gave you the idea for it? How long did it take to write? What did you enjoy about writing it? What did you hate?

Orphan’s Cry is the tale of Leah, a Royal Mail letter carrier who was bitten by a werewolf a year and a half before the book begins, and has been trying to hide her condition ever since.

To her great surprise, it turns out that she’s nowhere near the only werewolf in London, and that she was hiding so well that she never realized there was a whole community out there able to help her!

I enjoy messing around with tropes and conventions, and it’s fun to tilt things on their head and see what happens from there.

(One of the best pieces of writing advice I ever got was to create a character that you love, and then figure out what the worst thing you can do to them is. Bang! Instant plot ideas!)

I brainstormed the general shape of the story with a few friends at the end of 2016 and started writing it in 2017. When I finally finished with the stories I wanted to tell at the end of 2019 it was a 200k word monster, and it took another year or so of editing and rewriting to shape it into a trilogy of books. The first one focuses on Leah, another on her friend (and eventual lover) Amélie, and the final book ties all the threads I’ve woven into them together with a focus on their pack leader and girlfriend Amy – and the prophecy that all three have a part in.

(Oops. Did I say too much there…? I guess you’ll have to read and decide what you think!)

I loved writing the dialogue in the story. Leah’s status as a fish out of water means she’s going to need to learn a lot of things over the course of the first book, and I needed to keep that interesting! Thankfully I had a lot of character voices to work with, and more than a bit of good old fashioned smartassery I can rely on in a pinch.

I think the only thing I hated during the course of taking this from an idea to a published book was the inevitable rejections when I started to put it out there. With them came a lot of useful feedback that I was able to use to make the eventual result better, but it’s never fun to pour your heart into something for several years and then be told it’s not what they’re looking for.

Orphans Cry

Six months ago Leah Corbyn was bitten by a “dog.” Two weeks later, the full moon’s rise revealed she’s now a werewolf.

After spending six months trying to hide her secret in the city of London, Leah is about to learn she isn’t alone … but that knowledge comes with new responsibilities, and new dangers.

As Leah finds solace in her girlfriend’s arms, she must find her place among the wolves of Londinium, but can she prove herself in time?

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