Sean: So, Jules, in reality we’ve only really known each other for a year or two, but actually feel like we’ve known each other for much much longer. Are we like those soulbonded werewolves that pop up so much in m/m fiction?

Jules: Hunh. That would explain why I’m always telling you to bite me.

Sean: But does it explain why I resist so much?

Jules: Sure, of course it does. You can’t have a good romance without some angst, hero-in-denial, etcetera.

Sean: Indeed. So I’m the one who endlessly angsts but will eventually submit.

Jules: Yes. And I’m the level-headed one who knows how it will end from the beginning, etc. You know, that explains so much. I’m so glad you figured that out. Would you like some canteloupe?

Sean: No, not a canteloupe fan. But I do love me some mango.

Jules: Ewww, I hate mango. It’s the only fruit I can’t stand – aside from you, of course, my darling.

Sean: Let’s call the whole thing off!

Jules: Nah, we’ll be like… what, Jack Spratt and his partner person.

Sean: Okay, off to buy a pumpkin shell.

Jules: No, not Peter the Pumpkin Eater.

Sean: Whatever, there’s a Lifetime movie in there somewhere. So, after knowing each other for a while, why is it only recently that we decided to write together?

Jules: Well, you know, we’ve talked about it before. It’s just that we finally got an idea that will allow us to collaborate by fighting.

Sean: I’d still like to get back to that planned ghost story one day. But I think our natural instincts will serve us well for what we have planned.

Jules: You’re such a sap. But yes, that one will be fun.

Sean: I sometimes imagine us as lost siblings who should have been growing up together and bickering in the backseat of our parent’s car.

Jules: …. That’s just wrong on so many levels.

Sean: Huh? How so?

Jules: Well, what with all the marrying jokes we make.

Sean: Oh, we’re heading into Virginia Andrews territory.

Jules: Bring flowers.

Sean: And arsenic-laden doughnuts.

Jules: Cary Grant?

Sean: By all means, bring him as well.

Jules: Yes, quite. Okay. Back on track.

Sean: Which of your own works are you most proud of?

Jules: That’s a terrible question.

Sean: Oh, so sorry, Anderson Cooper.

Jules: But I have such a hard time ranking. What’s your favorite of my works?

Sean: I hate them all.

Jules: Well, which of them do you hate least?

Sean: It’s like asking which is worse, promite or marmite. But I digress.

Jules: You Australians are so weird.

Sean: Look who’s talking, Southern Gothic. I’d have to say my favourite is Windows in Time. I’ve told you before, I’m a huge Cold Case fan, and it plays like an exceptional gay cold case episode. Even down to the end, where you can almost hear some sad sad song playing at the end and everyone moving in slow motion.

Jules: You just like Liam. You know, all the reviews say he’s boring.

Sean: I think that’s unfair to call him boring.

Jules: So you like boring guys?

Sean: I like guys I can bicker with. QUELLE SURPRISE.

Jules: Yeah, that surprises no one.

Sean: I liked Liam. And it didn’t hurt that I imagined Scott Evans playing him, that’s for sure. But seriously, I love the details of the scenes set in Old Hollywood. You painted them so well, with great little in-jokes.

Jules: I’m kind of addicted to Old Hollywood.

Sean: Me too.

Jules: I know it’s not as romantic as they painted it, but the illusion is nice.

Sean: If I could get a ride with the Doctor, I’d be making him take me back for a gin and tonic with Katharine in her heyday. She’s yar. What was it that inspired Windows in Time?

Jules: The cover art. It was a piece of art up for claiming for a cover, and I have a voyeuristic streak, so of course I wanted that one. But I’ve never been really comfortable writing contemporaries, so I really wanted to write it set back in the 50s.

Sean: So what was it that inspired such a glorious two-era plot rather than just some story of two hot guys stripping for each other across the way?

Jules: The guy across the way, who ended up being Buck, was dressed like he could’ve been, you know? But the guy in the forefront, who ended up being Jonah, was in very contemporary clothes. So instead of giving in and writing a straight contemporary, I was like, “Screw it. I’ll make it a ghost story.”

Sean: I actually am enjoying writing contemporaries again at the moment, after doing a historical and a steampunk.

Jules: Weirdly, I’m enjoying the contemps I’m writing right now too.

Sean: You’ve been on a huge writing jag lately!

Jules: Well, I’m kind of stalled out at the mo. School’s started back, and I’m editing, you know. But I’m really excited about the books the authors on my roster have written.

Sean: Do you want to get all McCarthy on us and name names?

Jules: Haha, no, but I’ll be announcing their releases on Twitter. I don’t want to jinx them.

Sean: Fair enough.

Sean: Getting back to reviews, why do you think mention was made of Liam being found ‘boring’?

Jules: Well, to be fair, only a couple of people actually said boring. Most people said underdeveloped. I knew a lot about his back story and his motivations, but it was hard to get those across through just Jonah’s pov.

Sean: First person pov can be tough. People said that about Declan as well.

Jules: Well, Jonah was third person. But close third person.

Sean: Wow, I just showed my bad memory AND interviewer skills.

Jules: Yes, you did. But I’ll forgive you.

Sean: You’ll be saying that a lot in the coming years.

Jules: An-y-way. I did just get done writing a first-person, so I hope I managed to make the love interest in that better.

Sean: In my next contemp, I started writing in first person again but didn’t want to fall into that same potential mistake with underdeveloping the other romantic interest, so it’s been reversed to a mixture of third person and journal entries from the other character. It’s tricky, but one thing I’ve learned is you can’t make everyone happy.

Jules: That’s very true. But good oral skills go a long way with most people.

Sean: Dirty!

Jules: So, knowing what I do about the premise of your next one, I’m curious. Who gets the pov, and who gets the journal entries?

Sean: Well, there is limited third person point of view with the older, more introverted character. The journal entries go to the slightly younger more extroverted character. I liked mixing it up a little – that this more excitable character still relies on a journal to get his feelings out.

Jules: Aww, that’s going to be adorable.

Sean: I’m having a lot of fun with it, although it’s tough rewriting the start again. But I did that with Tigers and Devils as well – it was third person at the start!

Jules: First person is difficult to pull off, but I think you did well with T&D.

Sean: With Tigers and Devils I felt it was more important to have Simon telling the story as it was such a personal one, and to let him have a really distinctive voice. Seriously, it was like Simon possessed me.

Jules: How did we get started talking about you? Let’s talk about me again.

Sean: Umm, this is meant to be a chat, doofus. I occassionally get to talk about myself. Anyway, more about you – what do you think about you?

Jules: What do I think about me? I try not to. Although sometimes I think I’m kind of like Virginia Woolf. Not because of her writing, but because people said she was the most well-adjusted crazy person they’d ever met. She was bipolar too, but she was aware of it, so she tended to compensate for the swings as much as she could. But at least I haven’t walked into a river with rocks in my pockets yet.

Sean: Does this make me Vita Sackville-West?

Jules: Only if you want to be.

Sean: Is there any particular part of the m/m genre that bothers you?

Jules: Oh, getting into the dicey questions. :p

Sean: Might as well.

Jules: Ehn, mostly the same thing that bothers me about everything else: That people get involved in the politics of things and get firmly entrenched in their own opinions and can’t bear to listen to other people’s viewpoints. But I’ve never been involved in anything that didn’t do that. Self-affirming bias, self-esteem maintenance, etc.

Sean: It seems very hard to find middle ground. It can be on both sides as well, with loud problematic people in each camp.

Jules: Oh yeah. It’s very psychologically unpleasant to admit you might have made a mistake — especially a public one — so people tend to bluster to cover it up. And then everyone gets upset. And then of course people automatically assume they’re right and that everyone agrees with them… blah blah blah.

Sean: Nobody wins!

Jules: I grew up in religion. I’m used to it. Which isn’t to say I like it.

Sean: Is that what influenced Every Good Thing?

Jules: That novel was a lot about me having a knock-down, drag-out fight with my upbringing.

Sean: I know because we’re friends just how bad your experience has been with religion.

Jules: It was also a lot about me having a fetish for relationships with a power differential, especially when the more powerful one is made powerless by his feelings for the less powerful one. Wow, that was redundant. I swear I’m usually better than that.

Sean: Was it cathartic getting it out?

Jules: Some. There’s still a lot there, and more crops up every day because I’m in a very religious part of the country, so I’m constantly being confronted with it in nasty ways.

Sean: We do meet resistance in lots of ways in everyday life. Do you often think this gets overlooked in m/m fiction? And when it does get brought up it’s often dealt with melodramatically and in the most extreme ways?

Jules: I think people who don’t experience it sometimes have a hard time seeing how it happens, except in the most extreme cases. I mean, when I left ex-gay therapy and talked to my parents about why I was quitting and finally accepting my orientation, I also mentioned that I was volunteering at Pride. My mother asked me, “Why do you have to get involved in activism? It’s not like gay people are even discriminated against that much anymore.”

Sean: Aah, the blinkers.

Jules: She’s since come to realize how blind that statement was, but she still doesn’t understand how sometimes the little things hurt. Because to people who don’t deal with it every day, they do just seem like little things. But to the rest of us, who are already sore and tender, the little things can very often be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Sean: It’s the little things that can be the most insidious.

Jules: To people outside the perspective, watching someone very obviously try hard to be open-minded can seem like a good thing. But to me, what I feel the most is that sting from the way they flinched back when they first realized I was gay. That happened with my partners in a study group once.

Sean: Lovely.

Jules: And the fact that they were all obviously trying so hard, just made me feel that much more different and stigmatized. I mean, I’m glad they tried, rather than just being flat out mean to me, but sometimes flat-out mean is easier, ’cause then at least I’m justified in being visibly upset about it.

Sean: Yeah, so you don’t get that “You can’t get mad at me! I’m trying so hard to be tolerant of you!” reaction.

Jules: Right. Sometimes a gloves-off fight is just easier.

Sean: So before we close off, is there anything you’d like to share with your readers?

Jules: That they should save all the money they were going to spend on your books and buy mine instead.

Sean: That’ll never happen.

Jules: Haha, probably not.

Jules: But then soon they can buy both of ours together! And by “soon” I mean “sometime before the apocalypse.”

Sean: I think I’m worse at procrastinating than you are. You might find the next few months very difficult. Look at how long Catt and I are taking with “Dash and Dingo 2″

Jules: I’ll just pester the hell out of you.

Sean: But we can discuss that when you interview me!

Jules: Indeed.

That was part one of our little fireside chat. Stay tuned, when the tables get turned and I am on the end of Jules’s interrogative technique!

You can find Jules on Twitter and on the official website.

Anyway, onto better news. I can announce that a while back I was asked by Jordan Castillo Price to contribute a novella to the Petit Morts series that she has been writing with Josh Lanyon.

After I picked myself up off the floor – after all, this is JCP and JL we’re talking about here – I quickly agreed. But on one proviso, I didn’t want it announced until my story was completed and approved. Because it would have been rather embarrassing if after making a big squealy brouhaha that the story was terrible and rejected and I would have had to make a red-faced retraction at some later point.

In the end it’s all good, and my story will be #8 in the series – “One Less Stiff at the Funeral” sees Chance’s sweet treats (now, there’s some kind of euphemism) causing chaos at the service for an unloved family matriarch.

More details, and release dates, as they come to hand!

Keep well, and play nicely!

Wings of Equity was released last week. And so far it’s garnered a lovely review at Jessewave’s, although some comments on the post by other readers gave me a bit of a sober pause. In her review Kassa pointed out that “although featuring a lesbian relationship within an m/m romance is a chance, it’s one that pays off entirely“, and to be honest I hadn’t really thought that until I saw some of the comments. Because when I was writing WOE, I fell in love with the characters of Jazz and Lady Bart, and just assumed that other readers would as well. I didn’t really think that featuring secondary lesbian characters would be a ‘thing’, although I probably should have known better because truth be told sometimes it is hard to find strong female characters in the genre of M/M. And why is that? True, the books are about romance between two men, but men are never devoid of women in their life – no matter what their sexuality. Women are often used as plot points – and sometimes as really bad tropes like the vengeful ex or the scheming hussy who thinks she can ‘turn’ one of the heroes, or the saintly best friend. But if women are rare enough in M/M, lesbians are practically non-existent.

And again, why? Gay men often have lesbian friends – solidarity through shared experience. And Lady Bart and Jazz came into being because my friend Fran (whose name I stole for a heterosexual married woman in Tigers and Devils in all irony, although a lot of her traits ended up filtering into the character) asked me if I was ever going to include any lesbian characters because she wanted to read them. And from that small comment they took on a life of their own. To the point that I find their characters just as important and integral to the story (and in the planned sequels) – to the point where I am contemplating sticking my toe into the pond of F/F fiction at some later point so they can have their own adventures.

Because one of my biggest regrets is that although I tried to make them well-rounded characters, I only hinted at their sexual escapades in WOE, whereas the men had theirs described. And yes, WOE is primarily M/M fiction – but perhaps on some level I knew that F/F wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms in M/M stories. Maybe I was scared that sales would be affected once word got out. And I don’t really like that about myself. Kassa said to me on Twitter today that I was pushing boundaries, but I didn’t push them enough.

Some of those comments about Jazz and Lady Bart’s relationships kind of prove it though. I’m not having a go at anybody here – romances of any kind have their ‘rules’, and readers want to know of any ’surprises’ that may pop up. I do it myself – I don’t like unexpected menages in M/M romance. But M/M readers should not be scared of ‘girl cooties’ (not my words) – after all, the majority of the readers are girls!

Which leads me to another thought. If M/M readers saw other readers having that reaction about the hot man-loving, they would be justified in thinking there was a bit of homophobia going on in such a reaction. Is it fair to suggest that the reverse is happening here – that such reactions to F/F are on a par with those against M/M?

I hope not. I’d like to believe that readers of M/M fiction are just as open-minded about our beautiful lesbian sisters (allow me to get sentimental here).

All I am trying to say, is if you want to do some realistic world-building for your gay men, there is a place for gay women to co-exist with them in the M/M genre.

I’m not sure if I’m making any sense any more. So I’m going back to listening to Tori Amos and thinking of the next adventure for Ezra, Icarus, Jazz and the formidable Lady Bart.

Okay, so I’ve stolen the name of this post from a Tori Amos song, but it’s pretty fitting. And to tell you the truth when I was writing Wings of Equity Tori’s song “Bouncing Off Clouds” was forever on repeat:

Excerpt:

The sky was empty.

Ezra Kneebone sighed to himself and tapped his goggles. The sound of gears clicking into place as the goggles refocused bounced off the walls of the canyon, even though you could imagine they would sound insignificant in such a vast landscape.

There wasn’t even a cloud to observe. All you could see was the brown of the mountains and the dirt of the desert floor, and the blue of the sky. In this climate, snow didn’t even fall on the peaks to break up the monotony of color. Still, Ezra loved it. It was all he had ever known, and all he really wished to know.

But today brought a momentary pique. Frustrated, he pulled his goggles up and against his hair. The sun was bright, and he squinted against its onslaught. Jumping from the rock on which he was perched, he lifted his sleeve and spoke into the leather wrist cuff beneath it. “Jazille, can you hear me?”

“I’m not hard of hearing, Kneebone,” came the crisp reply. “And my, you’re being formal. Are you ready?”

“Can’t see a thing. Have you picked up anything on the sensors?”

“A flock of pigeons, and nothing more. I think we’re chasing ghosts.”

Ezra chuckled. “Wouldn’t be any stranger than chasing a man that can fly.”

“I can fly,” Jazz replied, her voice crackling with static. “It’s just that I need a craft under me.”

“True enough. But our man has wings.”

“Just another bit of machinery, if you ask me. He’s not that special.”

Ezra looked around, but couldn’t see any sign of her or their ship. “Are you going to talk my ear off all day, or are you going to come and get me?”

“You always have your knickers in a twist. I’m right here.”

He felt and heard the rush of wind and the roar of the engines before he actually sighted her. Cutting through the air, billowing steam behind it, the dirigible buffeted the airstream as if it were being tossed upon waves. The mechanics that kept it afloat screamed at the strain upon them, but Ezra knew that Jazz had everything in control. He felt safer in her hands in the air than he did on his own two feet on land.

Their dirigible was a lot smaller than the other ones around. Ezra had designed it himself, with Jazz’s mechanical expertise aiding him in being able to downsize the engine and therefore the size of the ship. It allowed them to move faster, and had also paved the way for the idea of airships being adapted for personal rather than commercial use. As Ezra had said, “I have never really wanted to get into the business of shipping and delivering, but get me in the air so I can get where I’m going faster than anybody else. Who won’t want that?”

They had christened her the Lilliput. Being a prototype, they still had ongoing problems with her performance, but this proved to be anything but a deterrent for their plans of eventually building a fleet. Jazz, as well as being an exceptional pilot, was one of the best mechanics around.

He could see her now through the cockpit window, the sun bouncing off the material of the balloon and reflecting from her goggles. She was choosing to fly with the windows down today, so her bright red hair was tied back into a utilitarian ponytail, and her face wore its customary frown as she controlled the flight of the dirigible from her console.

“I’m not landing,” she instructed him, still over the comm system. “You’re coming in the hard way.”

“Just the way I like it.”

“Grow up, Kneebone.”

He watched her pop the hatch of the cockpit and activate a pulley that released a rope hanging from the top of the balloon. With one hand on the console, she swung the rope over to him and he caught it on their first attempt as the Lilliput drew level with the top of the cliff to allow him easier access.

Without even pausing, he launched himself off the cliff top and swung across the impossibly deep chasm below. He misjudged the height and did a full body slam against the window of the cockpit. Jazz shook her head at him as he scrambled to find the footholds punched into the metal frame. He released the rope as he crossed over the curved dome of the roof and jumped into the pit.

“That was all class,” Jazz said dryly.

Ezra slammed the hatch shut and pulled the lever to close the windows; now it was a lot more quiet inside the dirigible than out. “Next time, you land.”

“It wasn’t your best entrance.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “Now, how would you know what my best entrance is?”

Jazz fixed him with a long-suffering expression. She had heard it all before. “Your crass bravado isn’t necessary with me anymore, Kneebone. Save it for the men you’re trying to bed when you next go to Whiskeytown.”

“It’s not fair that you judge me for my shenanigans in Whiskeytown,” he said, falling into the seat beside her. “We all can’t be as lucky as you in finding true love.”

“You’re not going to find true love in Whiskeytown,” she said coolly. “But you will find something much more permanent and even more painful.”

“They have powders for that now,” Ezra said with a laugh.

Jazz watched the ground drop even further beneath them as they headed for deeper skies. “You should buy a crate then, the amount you’ll need. Plus, it may be cheaper in bulk.”

Ezra tapped his foot against the console. “How do you know so much about Whiskeytown, anyway, Jazz?”

She slapped his knee. “Stop that. And I’ve heard the stories you’ve told me when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Aah.” He nodded. “A loose tongue that should have been put to much better purpose, I guess.”

She dropped the height of the Lilliput suddenly, and Ezra was jerked out of his seat. He was hit by the floor, rather than him hitting the floor, when she made them regain it just as quickly.

“Sorry,” she said with no compassion behind her tone. “Were you not wearing your restraint?”

From his position on the floor, Ezra scowled at her. “Just get us back home.”

“Aye, Captain.” She chuckled to herself, and to be kind, made sure the return trip was the smoothest she could offer.

You can buy it here.

“The truth is that those who make a difference usually get martyred. What good are you dead?”

Ezra Kneebone is most at home in the skies, piloting his airship with his best friend Jazz, even if it doesn’t quite pay the bills or warm Ezra’s empty bed. Those same skies are also the territory of a man known as Icarus who uses his metal wings to steal from the rich and feed the poor. Icarus and Ezra could be soul mates but for one thing: Icarus has a bounty on his head, and Ezra is desperate for money.

Against the wishes of Jazz and her partner, the formidable Lady Bart, Ezra is determined to get his man… in more ways than one. But when Icarus saves Ezra’s life, Ezra realizes he would be betraying a hero—and his heart—if he turned Icarus in. Unfortunately, the bounty is tempting more than one hunter, and Ezra will find that loving a fugitive may mean becoming one too.

Check it out here.

I’m not becoming domestic, Simon said to me in an email. But sometimes if I really want to get my way about something it’s much easier to manipulate Dec if I bribe him with something his mother has been using since he was a kid. And that thing is banana cake.

Apparently banana cake is the God of Football’s achilles heel. Well, besides Simon of course.

It’s easy to make, Simon said. And it always gets a good result. He refused to elaborate any further.

Wholemeal Banana Cake

125 g butter
175 g brown sugar
2 eggs
2-3 large mashed bananas (Simon recommends 3 if you like it moist)
1 teaspoon bicarb soda
2 teaspoons warmed milk
225 g wholemeal SR flour

Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs and bananas, then the bicarb (dissolved already in the milk). Add flour and beat well. Cook in 180 degree (centigrade) oven until skewer comes out clean (approx 30-40 mins).

Eat heartily, and use it to bribe your loved ones!

Some extra Simon Murray tips, however: I always add cinnamon to the mix, and a teaspoon of vanilla extract can help. But Dec was extremely disappointed the first time I made it, because it didn’t have the crunchy topping that his Mum always makes. Bloody big baby. So I rang her, and she gave me the secret. All you do is rub butter into flour and cinnamon until it becomes flaky and almost like tiny little balls, then add to the top of the mixture when you’ve poured it in the cake tin. It does make it nicer, but don’t tell Dec I said that, because after he complained I almost never made it again.

I have made this recipe myself and I happily endorse it.

So, I Fell in Love With A Zombie was released last week. Whoops! Which is really slack of me not to do a post then, but I had a horror couple of weeks. (Horror, get it?!?) *crickets* Anyway, I had to ask for an extension for the galley edits of Wings of Equity as well, but they are now completed and handed in.

But, yes, Zombie is out! It may not be your normal love story, but I like it. It’s a little bit of an homage to the kid in me who liked those creepy Twilight Zone episodes in a post-apocalyptic setting. But there are some funny bits as well. Hence the very 1950’s title.

I turned and ran. I knew it was useless, but the
instinctual nature of fight or flight handed down by the
cavemen came out in me. The blood was pounding in my
ears, and I could taste the copper in the back of my throat as
I struggled for breath out of exercise and fear.

She was right behind me, ready for the kill. No clumsy
shuffling for her now that she had zeroed in on me. This
might be it; the moment when there would finally be an end
to my story.

Would that be such a bad thing?

I guess deep down I thought it was, or why else would I
be running?

I was yanked back; she had grabbed onto my backpack.
I fell, tumbling head over ass, and looked up to see her
looming over me. She smiled, and a thin thread of blood ran
from her cracked lips.

She lunged down to grab me, but I rolled away. I still
wasn’t fast enough, though. She had a hold on me, grabbing
me by the right leg.

Don’t let her bite you. Don’t let her touch your skin….

Truth be told, I had no idea how the virus got
transmitted. It must have been airborne, or else Mike
wouldn’t have gotten sick, because he had never had any
contact with a zombie. But Mike hadn’t become a zombie
either, so maybe zombies were created by bite or touch or
contact with their blood? All I knew is it wouldn’t be a great
idea to have direct contact with them.

So I kicked at her, and she stumbled back.

I got to my feet and took off again. I had to try and get a
little distance between us, and then I would have to choose a
house, regardless of whether it had bodies or not inside it,
and barricade myself up.

As I rounded the corner, all hopes were dashed.

A group of zombies were shuffling in my direction.

This is it.

There was no way I could get out of this one. I was lucky
I had survived this long, really.

Five of them were after me now. It was mere seconds
before one of them raced around me and shoved me back
into the arms of those behind me. I fell to the road again,
and they started pawing at me. Above their moans I could
hear my screams. I wasn’t going to go out silently.

I was still trying to protect myself from their attack
when one of them went flying back in the air. The other
zombies looked around in surprise, slack-jawed. It was
almost amusing until one of their heads burst off their neck
and landed at my feet in a shower of blood. The remaining
zombies left me alone to face down whatever it was that was
attacking them. I scrambled away, accidentally kicking the
decapitated head. It went rolling for a few feet, its tongue
obscenely flapping out of its mouth.

It was a war zone. I couldn’t help but watch with some
interest; if there had been innocent human victims involved,
I would have looked away, but I had no sympathy for those
who had just tried to kill me.

I gaped: it was another zombie that had come to my
rescue. Once again, I was expecting something from the
movies: maybe a zombie slayer, or a self-made vigilante
fighter. But no, it was a zombie. He was a bloody blur as he
ripped through the other zombies, tearing them apart as
they tried to get at him with little success. Already sickened
by the head that had almost landed in my lap, I had to turn
and vomit when I saw an arm ripped off one of the zombies
and used to beat their own skull open.

When I looked up again, it was all over. One lone zombie
stood amongst strewn body parts, panting heavily. He
dropped the arm he was holding and groaned.

Had he done this so he could have the pleasure of
killing me all to himself? That would have to be the most
psychopathic zombie in existence. Lucky me to have strayed
across his path.

He groaned again, and turned slightly so he could look
at me directly. He was covered in so much blood that I
couldn’t even tell what color his clothes had been originally.
His groaning continued, but this time it sounded like a
word.

A very familiar word.

“Jaaaaaaayyyyy…”

My sweat turned so cold I thought my body would
shatter, as if it had been exposed to liquid nitrogen. I got to
my feet, shakily, and tried to look past the blood, and at the
zombie’s features.

“Jaaaaaayyyy…”

It couldn’t be. No, this was wrong. On every level.

Yet it was him.

You can buy I Fell In Love With A Zombie here!

On Monday I may be posting a little fun something. Stay tuned!

I’ve been intruding on some other websites recently, so I thought I should post here because I tend to neglect this journal in favour of blathering endlessly on Twitter.

At Wave’s, I was part of the personal stories of the coming out process. You can find it here, and it’s enlightening reading. Despite the age and geographical differences there is a lot of universality there.

Kassa discussed author collaborations at Three Dollar Bill Reviews, and I answered some questions there about what it was like to work on a book with the dastardly Catt Ford.

And have you ever wondered what Simon looked like in my head when I was writing Tigers and Devils? Head on over to Kris’s, where Simon is hidden amongst some other author choices and vote – if you get the most right you can win six e-books!