Okay. People keep asking me what I want for my birthday, which is in two weeks. I’ve set aside Saturday the 10th to celebrate but haven’t figured out what I want to do. Sleep might be good given the pace at which I’ve been living life…? Heh. Just kidding.
But seriously. Can’t figure out what to get for the writer who has everything she could possibly need, except that she uses up her tea stashes regularly? (Okay, yeah, gift certificates to any of the online tea places I rave about at my tea blog– (https://TeaWritings.com — like Holy Mountain Tea Co, Aroma Tea Shop, Teavana, Tealuxe, Imperial Tea Court, etc… will never go to waste…)
BUT, how about this? Three ways folks can totally make me feel loved & celebrated but which don’t cost any money. In fact, these are priceless:
1) Write something nice about my books on the Internet. Good reviews at Amazon.com and on networking sites like Goodreads, Library Thing, and Shelfari (if you participate in those) are more valuable to me than physical stuff.
2) If you like reading my stuff generally, how about reading and leaving comments on my free online serials? Daron’s Guitar Chronicles updates 2-3 times a week at https://daron.ceciliatan.com and The Prince’s Boy updates every Wednesday at circlet.com. Most days feedback is better validation for a writer than a paycheck.
3) Write me some fanfic set in one of my universes or using my characters. A fandom lawyer told me I should never read fanfic based on my own stuff. Um, so far I haven’t listened. (You could also totally write me some Snape/Draco, a pairing of which there is never enough in the world, as far as I’m concerned….)
Next year, I’ll ask for world peace and equality? Or maybe for Christmas. Yeah. 😉
Bandwidth boost: Help Temeraire!
So, apparently the publishers of Naomi Novik’s Temeraire books (which I adore to bits) have caught bracket-mania and are doing “cage matches” of the heroes of various books of fantasy.
Temeraire (who is a dragon, by the way…) is currently losing to some schmuck with a sword who has already beaten Hermione Granger and Cthulhu!
And Naomi has written a crackfic featuring Temeraire, Iskierka, Polgara, Hermione… and Ryan Seacrest… (I mentioned it was crack, right?) Here: https://naominovik.livejournal.com/41186.html.
Or just vote here: https://www.suvudu.com/2010/03/cage-match-2010-round-3-7-temeraire-versus-15-jaime-lannister.html
The Prince's Boy: 35
(Continuing the weekly serial by Cecilia Tan! Need to start at the beginning? Click here.)
Part 35: Kenet
The next day, the general was still not recovered enough to ride. The leg which had been stiff to the point of agony, was now too weak to support his weight. He instead moved to sitting on the fallen tree and various commanders came to report to him. Now that my charade of ignorance was over, I took on the duties of an actual page, and recorded names and made notes as I was bade to. The only thing he did not let me see was an envoy’s package with the royal seal on it. I noted he did not let Marksin see it either. In the afternoon, when I was not looking, he limped into the tent and read it, and then, I assume either hid it or burned it as I did not see it anywhere.
That evening, the general had a large half-barrel filled with steaming water from kettle after kettle and then eased his leg into it. He looked supremely uncomfortable to be just sitting still, though. Restless.
I put my hands onto his shoulders. He still wore his breeches and a loose white shirt. I kneaded his shoulders like the kitchen girls did bread and he grunted in approval.
It was only enough to stave off his impatience for a few minutes, and he pulled his leg from the water while it was still hot and dried it off with a cloth.
“Page,” he said then, and there was a curious tone in his voice. “Come here.”
Continue reading →
Coffee Time Romance gives Four Cups!
The Tower and the Tears (Magic University, Book 2) got four cups of coffee from Coffee Time Romance!
“The Tower and The Tears is an erotic cross between Harry Potter and porn. I enjoyed the storyline and got caught up in the characters. This story will entice the reader to not only go back and read the first one but to make sure they pick up the next book in the series.”
There are spoilers in the review, so I won’t quote any more, but if you want to know, here’s a link to the review: https://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/thetowerandthetears.html
(OK, and every review so far has had some major error in it… this one confuses Yale and Harvard, but that’s OK. People get Saturn and Jupiter mixed up, too.)
Talk Talk
Bart left us off at a pizza joint near Berklee and Ziggy’s apartment. I got myself a spinach pie that was too hot to eat without burning my fingers and Ziggy got a couple of slices of pizza that were too cold to let sit around for very long. When he was done inhaling them, though, he said “You know, for two guys who spend so much time together, I don’t think I know you very well.”
I was going to say ‘likewise’ but didn’t want to draw attention to any secretiveness there might have been on my own part, so I didn’t want to imply it on his. “What do you want to know?”
“I dunno, where you’re from, shit like that. You aren’t originally from Providence, are you?”
“Fuck no. It’s much worse. I’m from New Jersey.”
(Read the rest at Daron’s Guitar Chronicles.)
The Prince's Boy: 34
(Continuing the weekly serial by Cecilia Tan! Need to start at the beginning? Click here.)
Part 34: Jorin
There was a moment, one morning, when I was half-asleep still, when I believed that everything that had happened had been an awful nightmare, and that the man in my arms was Kenet. I could taste the back of his neck where my nose was buried, and hear the frits on the balcony, and I thought, what a terrible dream that had been and thank the sky above that all was well.
I slid my hand down his body to seek his cock, to bring him to full hardness before he could wake. As I did, though, I felt a sudden ache inside me, a sudden need for him. I gasped and jerked and that woke him.
Kan. He chuckled. “Good morning, lover.”
“G-good morning…”
He turned to look at me, his brows knit with concern. “Are you well, Jorin?”
“I’m not sure.” Continue reading →
More award news? Yes.
So, the book of lesbian vampire erotica I edited, WOMEN OF THE BITE, which was done in ebook by Ravenous Romance and in print form by Alyson Books, is a finalist for a Lambda Literary Award! And a book I have a story in, Lesbian Cowboys (edited by Sacchi Green and Rakelle Valencia) is also nominated in the same category! (Lesbian Erotica)
This is pretty cool, after a fair stretch where I didn’t have any Lammy noms for a number of years. Lambda has undergone a lot of changes in recent years–I’m not even up to speed on all of them. They seem very revitalized, though. This is happy making.
Now if I could just get them to correct the spelling of my name on the nomination announcement, that would be keen. (I’ve already seen it re-posted four places with the wrong spelling. Sigh.)
The other thing is that the awards ceremony is on May 27th, a Thursday night, in New York City. I’m supposed to be in Madison, Wisconsin that night for the annual feminist science fiction convention, Wiscon.Continue reading →
Three BDSM books I recommend
It was recently announced that the finalists for the NLA‘s Geoff Mains Non-fiction Book Award for 2009 are:
- Lee Harrington, Sacred Kink: The Eightfold Paths of BDSM and Beyond (lulu.com)
- david stein with David Schacter, Ask the Man Who Owns Him: The Real Lives of Gay Masters and slaves (Perfectbound Press)
- Two Knotty Boys, Two Knotty Boys Back on the Ropes (Green Candy)
I am a judge in the NLA: International writing awards this year, judging the Geoff Mains Non-fiction Book Award. And with books this good, it’s a tough decision.
All three finalists are books that I would encourage any active BDSM practitioner (even if you are active only in your fantasies) to go out and buy. Picking a single winner is difficult when there are such high quality books of depth and importance. The three finalists each are quite distinct. One is largely a hands-on how-to, one presents an incredible look at others, and one demands that we look at ourselves.
Herewith, a more detailed review of each of the three: Continue reading →
A tree fell on my house.
Ouch. So, last night at about 5 am I wrapped up what I was writing. The wind and rain had been a gale all day and night, with branches knocking against the house and so forth. The tall pine tree in my neighbor’s front yard, the one which is pretty much between our two houses (which are only a few yards apart) goes up about ten feet and then splits into multiple trunks. In the heavy wet snowstorm a few weeks ago, the trunk on her side cracked and broke, and the tree has been leaning on her roof ever since.
As I got ready to go to bed, I typed into my Twitter feed/Facebook status: “Going to unplug laptop and bring it in the bedroom with me. Paranoid that the broken tree next to the house is going to crash into my office.”
I unplugged the computer and stood up, and then CRASH! The trunk on our side cracked and the house shook as the bole came down with a whump against the corner of the roof right where I was standing.
Fortunately it was a relatively gentle bump, no windows broke, and as far as I can tell, there’s no leaking or anything. I still ran into the bedroom and typed: “holy shit! No sooner did I type that when the tree fell on the house!!! So far no damage on the INSIDE, but from the skylight I can see it!”
and: “My hands are shaking. But everything’s OK here. I hope. If roof is damaged, it’s not leaking visibly. And I’m not hurt, just freaked!!!”
Today the rain slowed down enough that I went out with a camera and umbrella and took photos. Here you go:
Continue reading →
The Prince's Boy: 33
(Continuing the weekly serial by Cecilia Tan! Need to start at the beginning? Click here.)
Part 33: Kenet
I played the part of Roichal’s page for a few more days, as he and the field marshal checked over what seemed to me to be the entire army. One morning, though, Roichal’s leg was so stiff, he could not mount his horse, and no amount of cursing and railing (and it was quite an amount, let me assure you) would change that. Marksin eventually forced him to lie back down and then went away, returning quickly with a jar which he thrust into my hands. “Go on. This will help him,” was all he said, and then he hurried off, to make the inspections himself, I supposed.
Roichal actually uttered a moan then, the first sound of discomfort I could recall him making. He must have been in great pain. I hurried to kneel next to the pallet and show him the jar.
He clucked his tongue. “This salve is strong stuff, Page, but there is nothing else for it. Give it here.”
He took the jar from me and I surrendered it, but part of me wanted to hold onto it. Hadn’t the general said when I’d first arrived that he would teach me to rub his leg or some such? It wasn’t his ‘third leg’ he’d been referring to, that much I was sure. He still had not made any move toward me sexually, unless one counted him putting me and Marksin together.
He seemed neither the type to condemn a man for desiring a man, given his charity toward his field marshal, nor sickened by the thought, as I knew some men were. Perhaps he simply did not desire me? He slept with me held close every night, though.
Continue reading →