Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Wicked Wednesday...

By  now you've heard the stories. And gruesome ones they are. Just, remember, stock up on food, and guns... and stories. Because stories are to the mind what a whetstone is to a sword.

Keep yourself sharp, babies.

There are loads of goodies to be found over at the LiAW event happening in the M/M Romance group on Goodreads. Here's a little Linky Dinky to my story, and once you finish that? Go back to the main page by clicking on LiAW at the top, and read away. The stories are free, and good...

And if the zombies are coming, you're going to need to be as sharp as you can. No, really.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Fabulous Friday: Play it for me One More Time

Because you just never know what is waiting just around the corner.

... and because nobody does it like Brit. Just sayin'

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Wicked Wednesday: It's a Shakespearean Thing... kinda

To cut or not to cut, that is the question:
Whether ‘tis hotter in hand or mouth, or other orifice
to have a cock that’s suffered the cut, and been exposed to
The Scapels and medicated creams of outrageous western med,
Or to take a stand against a Sea of troublesome cutters,
And by opposing end their reign of cock cutting
to some wanton destruction of perfection,
to others the necessary pain all must suffer,
and to still others mere happenstance:
For a Cock by any other name,
Cut or uncut, is made to
To grunt and sweat under or over
The undiscovered Country of the Lover from whom
fevered cries arise to enter the ears of the one the cock belongs to.
‘Tis this, no more… and whether the cock be dressed or undressed,
in ancient Greek form… is but a delight to be discovered.

Inspired by a Cup O Porn--er, I mean a Coffee and Porn-- post which you can find right here:

Monday, May 21, 2012

Win, win, win, win... oh Yeah!

The Blog Hop Against Homo/Trans*phobia are...

OceanAkers, KimberlyFDR, Matthew Lang, and Pointycat.

You'll be receiving emails soon, my lovelies.

To everyone else, there will be a year end finale draw for everyone who was in any of my draws/giveaways this year.

Later babies. I gots to go write.

Monday's Mayhem & Foolishness

So, the Hop Against Homophobia is officially over as of  this morning (per moi).  Of course, the Hop being done does not mean the fight is over. No, not by far.We've all still got miles to go before we sleep (Frost I think) on these issues. But if we keep our awareness, and keep reaching out in love and acceptance, we will get there. That's a pretty amazing concept, and one I truly believe. We will live, or our children-the next generation-will live forward into a day where slogans to promote equality are not necessary, where equality simply is. That is a fine thing to look forward to.

In the meantime, I'm going to round up all the names I have, put them on little slips of paper, and do a drawing to determine my two winners. And then I'm gonna get right back in the Writing Cave's editing section for a bit, where I'm working on a little something for my much loved lil'bro, Vicktor Alexander. I'm multitasking (I know, shocker) as I also have three books I'm working on right now, two of which have a deadline of Friday. You know that Robert Frost line, miles to go before I sleep? Yeppers, that's lil' ole me every freaking day. Heck, it's prolly you as well, isn't it? I really don't think many of us get by with just enough to do to keep us busy... so, I'm off to believe six impossible things before breakfast..


1) I will finish writing four new books by the end of June. Okay, done.
2) I will (mumble, mumble--this one's a secret--mumble). Also done.
3) I will unpack one entire box today.
4) I will take the Christmas tree down before June 1st. (it's already down, but I still have to believe this).
5) I will write a bestselling book this year.
6) I will have an entire day where my daughter is polite and respectful to me... on a day when she is HOME from school. *hey, it could happen*

What are your six impossible things?

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Sunday Best: Second Section of the Hop Finale

And here's where you can earn two more entries for the drawing to get free books for a year from Rooster and Pig Publishing. See if you can spot the trans* twist from this snippet of the story, and why Dorothy and Frankie are new in town...

From the Common Grounds series:

Two of Rick’s favorite customers caught his attention as he walked around straightening chairs and wiping down tables after the breakfast rush.
Glenn drawled, “Well, would you look at that.” He desultorily stirring his low-fat macchiato.
“She sure seems out of place.” Sarah Jane’s retort was rapid, spiky with interest. She was on her fourth mug of coffee and jittering in her seat. She leaned forward in small staccato movements to see past Glenn’s right shoulder.
...Rick glanced out the window of the coffee shop, wondering what had those two fussing at not even eleven o'clock on a foggy Tuesday morning. Sarah Jane and Glenn were peering around the potted fern he'd just put in the corner of the front window. Well, he’d put it there last Sunday. The fern, lush and glorious, was blocking his view of whatever, whoever had them so riveted. 
"No, no Sarah honey, she's waitin' on somebody I tell you..." Glenn drawled with absolute conviction.
"Waiting? Glenn, the only thing on that side of the street is one apartment building and that shady little park...oh." Sarah Jane's voice trailed away. She and Glenn both scooted their chairs to the side and then abruptly scooted them back. They whirled to face one another; both startlingly red faced, and now Rick just had to know what the hell had those two so fascinated.  He picked up a new pot of coffee and sauntered toward their table, absently noting the tinkle of the door chimes.
"Sarah Jane, Glenn, good to see you this morning...I --"  Rick stopped in stunned surprise as they both reached under the table to grab whatever bits of him they could reach at that awkward angle.
"Rick, for heaven's sake don't ask what we were just looking at." Sarah Jane hissed at him.
"She's standing at your counter looking absolutely lickable." Glenn added his comment in that same honey-rough tones which always left Rick thinking that all the best ones, like Glenn, were straight. He topped off his customers coffees, and then, as casually as he could manage, swung around slowly to see what all the fuss was about.
She looked entirely lost. Wild curls rioted around her face, dark brown mixed with shades of blond from ash to dark honey. She was tall, probably 5'9" or 5'10", and sported a curvy, old-fashioned pin-up girl sort of figure. Didn't straight boys call that an "hour-glass" or something? She held a little girl of probably five or six years up over the far side of the L-shaped glass display counter to pick out a pastry, and yet despite the obvious strength...
Rick saw it. That something indefinable yet infinitely real, something that was and wasn't there. An somehow waifish feeling seemed to pour from her to fill the space around her. She needed to be held. Rick could see... something marking her on a—man, he hated to sound all new agey, but on a spiritual level. She carried around an invisible sign covered in boldly written, glittering letters reading, "Handle with care".
Rick held up one finger. Called out, "I'll be with you in just a moment." Then he tried to smile and soothe and seem friendly all with his ordinary voice. He spun back around to gape at Sarah Jane and Glenn. He gave his best impression of a fish, complete with the bit where he opened his mouth repeatedly. Drawing in a breath through a wind pipe suddenly half its normal size, he licked his lips. Then he cleared his throat twice. Leaning in close he whispered, "I call dibs." And then he wondered what the hell he was doing calling dibs on a woman.

"Dhat one momma, thas as preety as Aunie 'Chelle's hastries."
Frankie's voice belled out sweet as a xylophone. She tapped the glass with her electric blue cast—the very cast she’d deemed “pretty” as soon as the pain medication kicked in. She tapped right over the confection she'd obviously set her heart on. Her mother, wincing, quickly slid her hand under the cast to keep the little hurricane from breaking the counters top. One ER visit this month was more than enough. Add the stress of moving lock, stock, and nursing license across the whole country and Dorothy was just plain worn out. Then there was the apartment hunting, though the last apartment they'd looked at seemed nice enough. The housing prices out here would take a little getting used to. Something about the manager bugged her though. He made her feel edgy, reminding her of—maybe they would keep looking. Yeah. Not that place. When the man touched her hand to pass her a pen, her stomach ached a little, and you should always listen to your gut.  Right now her gut was telling her that this place smelled delicious and if the coffee tasted as good as the man serving it looked it was going to be some damn good coffee.
"How can I help you...?"  
His voice was a sweet tenor. Dorothy looked up and was caught. Oh man. Chocolate.  Dark chocolate eyes and what in HELL was a coffee guy doing with lips that looked as if they tasted of raspberries?
Oh. Freakin' Brilliant. It was all she could do to not drop her head into her hands and call it quits. A professional speaker she was not, but neither was she some sort of idiot savant of the professional speaker’s circuit.
"You're new here..."
Oh shit. He smiled, and Dorothy was glad she'd chosen the bikini panties that morning in the hotel. The thin strip of cloth a thong provided would have been dripping by now. What was he saying? Those chocolate eyes and raspberry lips reminded her of her favorite candy...Michelle sprinkled bits of those chocolate bars all over the frosting of the cake she'd baked them right before they left. 
"...wondering if you just moved into the neighborhood..."
He even smelled liked chocolate. Shaggy blond hair and just a touch of stubble...she was definitely stopping by the pharmacy to get batteries. She—yeah, oh hell yeah, she definitely had a date with B.O.B tonight right after hurricane season concluded for the day. 
" must be from Florida or the Gulf Coast, but we don't get hurricanes out here on the West Coast."
Dorothy closed her eyes and felt the heat spreading up her neck to her face. 
"Oh much did I say out loud?"  She cringed. 
Rick laughed out loud, the warm tones slipping and tumbling over one another. Dorothy pressed her thighs together and wondered what it would be like to have him laugh like that while he was licking right between her...a little voice piped up, interrupting her thoughts, and dammit even her thoughts were at the mercy the voices in her head that never, ever let her be. He’d hate her if he ever got between her thighs. He’d hate her, and maybe hurt her just like…
Frankie’s voice piped up, and Dorothy thanked all the powers that be for the almighty power of childus-interruptus which could even silence the horrible voices in her head. 
"Momma, can I habe my hastrie?" asked Frankie.
Rick peered over the edge of the pastry case. He looked up and started to open his mouth only to be cut off.
"No,yes, 4, and she wants the one that looks like it has ribbons all over it... and those are the questions everyone asks." Dorothy rolled her eyes. "If I had a dollar for every time someone asks if she is a model, do I know she's dressed like freakin' Snow White, and don't feel bad it's her height, everyone thinks she's a couple of years older than she really is." 
Rick looked back at the woman. She’d nailed everything he was going to ask. He couldn’t help but be startled, nor wondering how she had so perfectly answered the questions he hadn't even voiced.
"You have a very expressive face, I'll take a coffee and a croissant, oh, and a house salad with chickpeas, the raspberry vinaigrette for dressing, a glass of milk for my little hurricane,  and how much of what I was thinking did I say out loud?" The words rushed the words out of her mouth. Her tone dipped, going a little deeper, a tiny bit huskier over the word raspberry, and what was that about...?
"Ummm....something about meeting Bob back at the hotel later, after the hurricane stopped..."
Glancing down past the counter again he smirked slightly. "I think I get the hurricane reference now though." His smile broadened back into that sweet adult dessert she wanted to eat for at least a few hours. " I am still curious about Bob though...or was it B.O.B.?" Rick chuckled as he asked the last. "I'm Rick by the way... Rick C. Torres. If you and your little hurricane want to find a table I'll bring your food right out... do you need a booster seat for her? And I make a mean toasted PB&J if she's interested in lunch."
"Oh... a PB&J sounds great. She always loves those. Uh." And YES he already knew the answer to the other question by the delicious blush riding up her face. " name's Dorothy. I'm not meeting anyone later...w-we just got here, are still looking for an apartment actually. Uh... It's too bad the one across the way isn't going to work out. This cafe is lovely and it would have been so close to my new job...oh well." She shrugged her shoulders, looking frail again somehow, and a little overwhelmed and before anyone could stop him he opened his mouth. Said something crazy. Abso-freakin-lutely crazy. The sexy little stutter must have short circuited his brain. He always loved when he flustered his boyfriends enough to make them stutter.
"There's an apartment upstairs that's going to be open soon." Holy Hell, that was his apartment... and dammit his mouth was still moving,"... how soon do you need to find a place?"
Glenn had come up behind Dorothy and was looking at him like he had lost his mind.  Oh hell, he had lost his mind. "I'll be right over with that booster seat and your drinks then he said." He hoped Glenn could read the desperation in his eyes, cause if he blabbed right now Rick was going to look like some kind of sick-o stalker psycho. Dorothy and her daughter moved off, and Glenn let the laugh he'd been holding in rumble in his chest. "I know you called dibs man, but moving her into your apartment before knowing her even an hour is fast work even for a sweet slickster like you."
Glenn was laughing openly now, still quietly enough to not draw attention with his head tipped down, glancing up through his lashes in sly merriment. Thank God Dorothy hadn't noticed the odd reaction he was giving to the apartment offer. 
"Glenn, can you and Sarah meet me for dinner tonight?" Rick waved away the money Glenn had out to pay for their lunches... "I think I'm gonna need someone to talk to later... don't worry about lunch, man. It's on me." 
"I know I can make it... and I’ll see if Sarah Jane has any plans for tonight... though even if she does, I’m sure she can be persuaded to cancel them. Where do you want to meet us, and when?" Glenn's blue eyes sparkled as he asked the question. Rick could see that he had about a hundred more questions but thankfully he was opting to ask them later. When she couldn't overhear things that made him seem...well, just plain loco. 
"Thanks Glenn. 7:30pm I guess, at that new Cajun place over on Folsom maybe? Please come even if Sarah Jean can't... I just... I really am going to need someone to talk to tonight."  Rick gave a lopsided little smile as he spoke, and Glenn got the strongest urge to wrap the other man up in his arms. He wanted to make everything... Ooo-kay where did that come from? Guy must remind him of his kid brother. Because Glenn liked the forms he wrapped up in his arms to be curvy little packages like the lovely in front of him. Yeah, that was it.


The clatter of the restaurant behind them set a pleasant level of ambient noise. Glenn glanced around, and then trained his gaze back on Rick’s eyes as he listened to Sarah Jean light into Rick. "So, you're telling us that you told her she could have your apartment—which she doesn't know is yours—and now you have to move out by Friday so she can move in on Saturday?"
If Sarah Jane's voice got any more incredulous she'd become a caricature of herself. Her gingery eyebrows were hovering up near her hairline and the sheer stupefaction expressed in her brandy colored eyes was making Rick feel more loco than he had when arranging for one of his part-timers to come in for the afternoon so that he could hide all his photos, all the stuff that made it obvious that the apartment was his. More loco than when he'd shown the apartment to Dorothy, claiming that he'd cleared it with his "tenant" earlier and yes, muy more loco than when he'd claimed that the guy didn't want to give up his lease so the sublet was only going to cost her $750. A month. For a large four bedroom flat. In San Francisco. He could only hope that these two people that he'd know casually for a year and a half would take pity and offer to help him.  Mark and Guy were out of town, Robert wasn't due to return from studying abroad for another three months, and Lizzie and Sheila were in Denver for a week at Sheila's sister's wedding. And he couldn't ask his brothers. Tio abuelo Manuel would help, but at 82, even a robust 82, his biggest contribution was likely to be ordering the pizza for afterwards.
"Yeah, that's about the size of it." Rick ducked his head, looking across the table through his lashes at the last hope he had of help in pulling off this crazy scheme.
The rumble that masqueraded as Glenn's laugh started up in his chest again. His shoulders were shaking as he bit his lips. When he started slowly shaking his head back and forth Rick's hopes took a sharp dive. Rick bit his own lip and looked down, then spoke quickly, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing...maybe he wouldn't scare away two of his best customers.
"It's okay, I know it's a lot to ask on short notice and -"
Glenn shot Sarah Jane a loaded glance—nice to have known one another since second grade sometimes—and reached across the table to get Rick's attention. Except instead of tapping the smaller man on the back of the hand as he'd intended to he found himself cupping the other man's hand. Rick’s skin felt cool to the touch, and his fingers shook slightly. Rick looked up, releasing his bottom lip from the fierce grip his teeth had on it. The plump flesh gleamed with moisture, soft and sweetly pink against the whiteness of his teeth. His lips parted. Glenn had a sudden vivid mental image of himself leaning forward to lick that raspberry pink surface, learn if it tasted as sweet as it looked. In his mind, Rick leaned forward, meeting him halfway. The cafĂ© owner pressed his firm lips against Glenn’s, and then he—
"Glenn here—” the back of Sarah Jane's hand thwacked into her friend's chest, startling him and halting his unconscious movement forward, “—and I would be happy to help you."
"I know it seems loony, but she was just so...just..." Rick spread his hands and shrugged.
"Yes she was." Though Glenn spoke it was clear from the look on Sarah Jane's face she was in complete agreement. She lifted her water glass as if to make a toast. The other two followed suit, and with a wry sidelong glance at Glenn, she said, "To becoming friends of Dorothy." She smirked a bit, and then, after taking a small sip of her water, she continued to speak. "What I'm unclear on Rick, is if Dorothy is living in your apartment, where are you going to live?" Glenn wondered if this was what Rick had felt like earlier as he heard himself saying," I have a spare room... you can stay with me until you figure things out." Well, obviously insanity was contagious. Because Glenn didn't have a spare room. Where in hell was he supposed to put all his home office stuff while Rick was staying there? He nudged Sarah Jane's ankle with the toe of his shoe and gave her the don't you dare say a word look. One eyebrow discreetly raised, eyes slightly narrowed. She got the message loud and clear, though clearly she did not like what he was saying. Sarah Jane always got him. It was why he was planning to ask her to marry him.  He liked not having to explain. He liked how she always got him. He liked her right down to her pretty toes.
Yeah. He just wanted to help Rick to help Dorothy. Cause there was sure something about her that made you want to help her. Protect her. Help anyone who was trying to help her.  Plus Rick reminded him of his baby brother... though he never wondered if his brother's lips tasted like raspberries. Never looked at his brother's lips and wondered if he could get his girlfriend to wear raspberry flavored gloss. Or maybe get some raspberry flavored bodypaint so he could lick it off every hot caramel colored inch of flesh. Poor guy must have caught hell growing up with a pair of lips like that. Right. So he wanted to help him out. Was gonna let him stay in his house. Made perfect sense. Yeah. Sure. Now if the waiter would just come back, because suddenly Glenn wanted to change the dressing on his salad...for some reason he had a distinct craving now for the raspberry vinaigrette. 

Sunday Best: First Section of Two Part Hop Finale

This is another chapter in my Trans*Family Tale.

 I got told a short while ago that we need to have cameras up so that folks can see the extreme goofiness we get up to on the regular... well, here's a mini-clip of our daily mayhem and foolishness. You'll have to click on the link, as I am a techno-amoeba, and can't figure out how to embed it this time. Yes, this was on mother's day... and yes, it was simply the best mother's day I've had since the birth of my daughter... but that was because of my family just doing the things they do every day. My *nods to Jeremy Pack* big Trans*Family was having a Trans*Mother's Day, complete with Trans* gifts and Trans*video taping.
We're pretty radical. Cooking Trans*Family meals like Lasagna, and inviting friends over to share the bounty with us. Totally out of control!

 We get crazy with the refrigerator art. *gasp*, and do terribly deviant things like take the kidlet trick or treating. I know, that is beyond bizarre. The kidlet, by the way, is the one in orange, and this was a few years ago. She's taller now, and actually does do some rather radical things for a kiddo. She's marched in a Pride parade, because, as she says, even though she's not gay, she thinks everyone should be able to marry who they want. She sticks up for GLBTQI kids at school, and tells them she'll still be friends with them whether they are gay or queer or just questioning. And she's the face of the future. She's part of the family of tomorrow, where a Trans*Family will just be a FAMILY.

Everyone should be so lucky. We laugh together in our silly Trans*Family about Eggplants and other oddities. We fight over who gets to cook, and whose turn it is to scrub the tub (though, unlike some families, we're usually fighting over who gets to do those things rather than who gets to get out of them, lol... It's an OCS thing. You know, an Obsessive Compulsive Situation pertaining to who gets the rush of being the cooker or cleaner). We eat dinner together at our big ole Trans*table, and water our Goof Gay and Trans* plants... we're even radical enough to harbor a few straight plants in our home. Yep, we're a family. Perfectly imperfect, with a mom and an uncle Vic and a Kidlet.. Exactly like you see in the video. We're pretty radical, right? We work hard on hearing one another, and learning and growing together. On calling each other on bullshit we do, and say, and while we always have one another's backs, we try hard not to take sides. I know that if I'm experiencing a reality fail where I'm being an unmitigated Meanie-Butt of Epic Proportions... the kidlet and Vic call me on it. And if the Vic is being a fracking evil troll (I've never seen this, but hey, it could happen) I will call him on it. If the kidlet is treating Vic or I or one of her friends poorly... we step in. We say, Kiddo, or Vic, or Cherie, you've got your Donkey Ears on. *yes, we even make the eeeeaahh-aunh noise* You may not see these things on a daily basis, because Logo TV isn't set up in our house, making us the latest and greatest reality tv family.

Eh, we've pretty much recovered from the tragic, cosmic, universal fail of that factoid. We soldier on.

Just being a family, and reaching out in love to those we encounter... sometimes it's hard, and sometimes the best we can do is keep our damn mouths shut so we don't say something full of Jack-assery, but we try. And when we fail we learn from it. Cause, hey... isn't that what good families do?

We'll see you out in the world. And if you're lonely, or tired, or think there's no place for you... well, stop by. We pretty much leave the door open, though you should be warned that we don't tolerate intentional or willfully repetitious ass-hattery. If you come into our house and say or do something ugly we'll boldly call you on it. And then make you a cup of tea to soothe your nerves. If you continue to wear your asshat, we'll show you the door, usher you out, and then shed a tear or two over the fact that you've lost out on our love and support. Cause, babies, we are a fan-fucking-tastic and scary loyal family, and it will surely be your loss.

I hope for your sake you don't miss out on all the sustenance you could find at our table just because you're tangled up in worrying about it being a Big Trans*Table.  It ain't catching, babies. Your born that way. Straight, Gay, Lesbian, Intersex, Trans* or Queer. If your questioning, that's not you catching something. It's just you being brave enough to figure out and admit to yourself (cause it's nobodies business what you do in behind closed doors but yours, nor whom you do it with as long as both or all three, four, or however many of you there are have all attained the state of adulthood... heck it ain't even anybodies business which set of plumbing you were born with unless you are sharing said plumbing with that person or persons).

For the future?
Well, this big ole Trans*Family is bringing up a kiddo who doesn't get why we need to put the Trans* bit at the beginning, because that's just the way it should be, ya know?

Good luck to you. And remember, while we don't tolerate ass-hattery, we'll always accept an apology and invite you back to our table. Any ole' time you want, we've got tea and crumpets (or drop biscuits with blackberry jam) and a whole fuck-ton of love to spare.

Thanks for stopping by, babies. :)

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Saturday Delay: Redux

I swear, a Wonder Woman's work is never done...

I've made promises this week, and I've got deadlines staring me in the face... so here's what I'm gonna do for you all. I hereby declare tomorrow DP day... *oh, not that kinda DP you slutbunnies* ... Double Prize Day! Leave a comment for each part of the post, and I'll enter you in the drawing to win free books for a year from Rooster and Pig publishing twice... plus you get two ah-mah-zing posts by yours truly. *grin*

First off, I'll put up the regularly scheduled Sunday Snog, but with a Hopping against Homo/Trans*phobia shimmy and a twist, making it a 2k sneaky peaky into the world of the Common Grounds Cafe... and what the boys and girls who hang out there do when faced with Homo/Trans*phobia from both within and without their community.

Secondly I'll put up another Trans*family Tale... realio, trulio.  See you all tomorrow.

For now, I'm off to honor some promises, and walk the walk I've been talking. Ciao for now, babies. Enjoy the hell out of your day, and I'll catch you on the flip side.

Saturday Delay: Still Hopping against Homo/Trans*phobia

Hey, babies, just wanted to let you know I'll be a wee bit late getting today's planned post up... likely afternoonish here on the east coast. So, in the mean time, here's a consolatory pretty pack of pics.
Yummy puppy pile!

Work it darling, work it! 

I just lurve the attidudinal beauties, don'tcha know...

Pretty, pretty... wonder what this person is like on the inside? Are they as pretty there as they are outside. I'd love to meet him/her and find out.

Oi, I have to run out and finish up a few errands... be back soon though, and then I'll get a little snip of Common Grounds written up for you.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Fabulous Friday: Speaking Out Against Transphobia

Home of the Hop with links to all the other Hoppers... yeah, baby, we're rocking this theme until Sunday!

Yesterday I addressed Homophobia... my take on what it means and what I'd like to do--what I've done about it. Today I'm talking about Transphobia. This issue, the desire to fight against it, to see it wiped from the face of the earth lives right next to my heart. Makes it hard to breathe some days. I found this clip of Andre Pejic over on Tara Lain's blog, and I thought--OMFrackingG, this is PERFECT. He says exactly what I wish the whole world could say and mean, and does so with a grace and charm most of us only dream of achieving. Enjoy.

Gender doesn't make me who I am...

Ah, if the world at large could think this way, what a different place this earth would be. 

And really, at the end of the day, what does it mean to be a woman, or to be a man? No, I'm not being flippant here, I'm asking a serious question. I know what it means to be Cherie. I know what it means to be a sister and a mother and (more often than not) a father. I know how it hurts my brother when the teller at the bank gets hung up on his legal name and repeatedly calls him by the wrong pronoun. 

So if we lived in a world where it just didn't matter... perhaps people wouldn't make assumptions. Perhaps they would wait to see what was inside the gift-wrapping of flesh. Perhaps boys who got wrapped in pink paper and girls who got wrapped in blue wouldn't hurt with every breath they take. 

Today, just today, try to walk through the world like a child. Pretend you've never seen a leaf unfurl in the spring. Pretend you have no preconceptions about who the person looking at you from out of your mirror is, and no way of knowing who the other looking back at you as you pass them in the street is until you get close enough to see what lives behind the blue, brown, green, gray or lavender of their eyes. 


Just try, and see if maybe, you learn something new about you.

I double dog dare you.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Thursday Think Tank: Hop Against Homophobia

First of all: read to the bottom, babies... or at least scroll down. There are prizes involved. :)

Second of all: get ready to get edu-mur-cated. See, it needed the extra 'r', cause as Medea would say... I'm verry sincerre about this. 

ho·mo·pho·bi·a   [hoh-muh-foh-bee-uh]
unreasoning fear of or antipathy toward homosexuals and homosexuality.

So... nouns can be people, or things. Yeah, yeah, nouns can be places too, but as I've yet to run across a town, county, state, province, or country called Homophobolandia, we'll concentrate on the two things I've actually had some experience with. So for the purposes of this particular blog post, the nouns we'll concentrate on are people, and things. Cause I was taught those two things are both considered nouns.Well, at least according to the teachings of every English teacher, Composition teacher, and Literature professor I ever took a class with. They could have all been wrong, but somehow, I doubt that. 

A person expressing this unreasoning fear would be a Homophobe. A person with a fear that keeps them from seeing those individuals among us who were born homosexual as people. A homophobe is a person lost to their own fear. A lost person is a very sad thing in my book, regardless of the cause of their being lost. Sometimes they are merely annoying, sometimes they grow past their fear, and sometimes? Sometimes their fear drives them to be dangerous. A person drowning in water can bring their potential rescuer down with them... and so can a person drowning in fear. Which is why lifeguards are trained to approach drowning victims obliquely, or from the rear. Yep, they get taught to sneak up on the folks they are trying to save, and you know, it's not a bad approach. They get to save two for the price of one, both themselves and their rescuee. I call that well done. 

Hold onto your panties and jockstraps, babies, I do have a point here. 

I'm all for saving folks who can't save themselves... I just want you to be aware that if your going to attempt this it's best to get some training. And it's also a good idea to have a battle buddy, cause make no mistakes out there my friends, it's an ugly, ugly battle complete with crimes against the innocent and a perilously high death rate.

Homophobia is a thing. It is the fear which rules the actions of the person lost to it, and can occur through either simple ignorance, or willful ignorance. Simple ignorance is lack of exposure, and has the easy fix of education. Willful ignorance comes into play when someone holds a lack of information, or the wrong information dear to them, and fights vehemently against any attempts to change their unreasoning fear for knowledge. 

Whew... long way around the barn, but really all I want to say is this. Homophobia is real. It is dangerous. In my opinion it's as dangerous a disease as the Bubonic plague or Schizophrenia combined with Sociopathic Tendencies... yes, all the capitalization there was totally intentional because what I'm attempting to emphasize is this is as serious as a heart attack, or cancer.

Homophobia kills. It's wildly contagious. Take it seriously. In some cases it's curable, and in some treatable... and in a few particularly virulent cases it ought to be simply quarantined for the safety of all concerned. And just like the plague, or the treatment of mental illnesses we all need to stand up and take part in finding a way to decrease the risks associated. And we need to be smart about it. Today's Hop is one step in the right direction. 

Use the links to the International Day against Homophobia, the Hop Against Homophobia, and the one for Embrace the Rainbow at the upper left of my blog. Get informed. Get involved. Get a battle buddy to watch your back, cause there are folks out there who want you dead or safely neutered either physically, spiritually, or mentally. Be smart. Be safe. 

But most of all, be yourself.

Don't give a rip about what anyone thinks about who you love, except those you love... and chose your family wisely. No, no, not the one you were born into. We get no choices there. Choose carefully the folk you will walk through this battlefield we call life. Choose those who will accept you for who you are. Choose those who will understand, or empathize, or at least cheer you on in supportive incomprehension. My biological mother never got a lot of things about me, but I chose her as part of my family of choice nonetheless, because she always cheered me on, even when she didn't understand, even when she couldn't personally empathize. Surround yourself with people like that. Be a person like that. Because, babies, tolerance is catching too.


For more information, and to get the tools and training you'll need to deal with homophobia, check out the links below. Because baby, even if you aren't homosexual, homophobia hurts you too.

Please, if you have any links to places where folks can get educated, or get help in dealing with homophobia--leave them in the comments.


The Part About the Prizes: okay, here's the prize deal. If you leave a comment, you get entered in a drawing to win a copy of one of my books. If you leave a comment with a link to a previously unlisted (on this blog) place to get information about combating homophobia, you get entered in a drawing to win a free copy of every book my publishing house, The Rooster and the Pig Publishing, puts out for the next year. And every additional link (not posted previously in this blog) you put up gets you entered again. How's that for fun prizes? 

Entries for both drawings will be open until midnight EST on May 20th. I'll post the winners here. Be sure to leave me an email addy, because if you don't, I'll be unable to reach you with your prize, and have to give it away to someone else. 

Leave an address. :)

Oh, and here's the clickable link for my sneaky surprise from comment #1. *grinning*

Vicktor Alexander Hops Against Homophobia/Transphobia


Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Wednesday Work in Progress~~Out of the Box: Climbing the Walls

How did he keep getting into these situations?
Right in front of him Jason flipped up over the edge of the concrete wall blocking their way, the glint of his golden hair dropping away into nothingness.
Where the hell did he—
Lee leaned forward to gain momentum, pushed off the ground hard and grabbed the top edge of the wall, straight arming himself up.
Holy Christ.
There was a run off canal carved into the side of the hill here, and Jason was bouncing back and forth off the walls. Lee’s lover dropped farther and farther away. The base of the structure looked to be at least a hundred feet down. Jason was easily two-thirds of the way down. This was way beyond his level of expertise. Lee flipped himself up and over the wall in the seconds it took to assess this, and let himself fall as far as he dared. He could only hope that Jason managed to pull this one off, because they couldn’t stop, not with the gang of white slavers hot on their heels.
Real deal white slavers, for fuck’s sake. They hadn’t expected to find anything like this when they went looking for Michael’s missing cousin. They’d found the boy and gotten him out of the dingy apartment he’d been tied up in. Sam had him, and Michael was giving them backup while Jason and Lee played bait and drew the dickheads who’d stolen the boy off. They just hadn’t expected the set up they thugs had to be so high tech, nor for them to have so many bodies available to throw into the chase.
Lee and Jason were running for their lives.
Jason reached the bottom, and nailed his landing on the narrow ledge next to the fast moving water rushing along the bottom of the man-made gorge. He took off running along the thin strip, and Lee turned a hundred percent of his attention to getting down as quickly as he could without killing himself. He figured he had about twenty to forty more seconds before the guys chasing him caught up and climbed the wall at the top of the gorge. They had guns, and he was pretty sure they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him.
Voices echoed from above.
Lee ran flat out, clearing the corner in five seconds.
“Naw, man. No way they went down there. Why you even looking? If they jumped that fence they dead anyway.”
“Shut the fuck up Niki. They got skills man. I seen them.”
A guffaw sounded, and then a loud cracking noise echoed dimly down. Jason jerked Lee up against him into the shadow of an overhang. Lee grabbed Jason’s face between his roughly callused hands, tilting the smaller man’s head up. He whispered against Jason’s lips.
“I—damn babe, you scared the shit out of me.”
Then he kissed Jason with everything in him. Jason just opened up, sweet and easy like he always did. Lee sucked Jason’s tongue into his mouth, stroking it with his own. He pulled back slightly.
“We need to get back home. Get Michael, Sam, and Ryan and get the hell out of this place.”
Jason nodded, and then they were running.

find Climbing the Walls in downloadable formats at Silver Publishing as part of the weekly Free Reads: Get the Silver Shorts HERE

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Tuesday Teaser

This one goes out to Thorny. Thanks for the tip, babe.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Monday: Mayhem & Foolishness

Off and running.

Will pop in later with updates.

I've got about 92k to edit today, and about 6k that MUST be written. LOL. Let's see what I actually accomplish. Oh, and in other news? I actually put the Christmas tree away early this morning... Like around 0100hr. Thanks to the encouragement and support of my little brother:

VIC: Is that what we're calling it? *eyebrow raised*

CHERIE: Well, you did kinda encourage... and you did most of the work... and you made fun of my redneckness for wanting to keep the tree up all year... er... that's encouragement right? *sunny smile*

VIC: *shaking head* Do you see what I put up with from the Women Folk here?

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Tuesday's Triumph

Today's Triumph is short and sweet.

I resisted the urge to tie the cute cable guy to my bed, thereby avoiding a jail-sentence. Whew. He looked like this--->
No, really. Just... with a mustache, and a little bit more padding.

That is all.