Friday, April 26, 2013

Holy Crap! I've gone viral.

That's not true, but wouldn't it be cool? And, btw, what does that actually mean? (Gone viral.) How many shares or hits or views does a page have to have? Thousands? Millions? Google probably has the answer but then I'd have to open another tab and search for the answer. I can't be bothered. I'd rather ask the reader. (haha)

First, apologies for the messed up way the last blog looked when it got over to goodreads. I don't know why it does that! All the words run together and it makes it hard to read. IDK. If I figure out why I will not be doing it that way again.

I may not have gone "viral," but I DID have a "HOLY CRAP!" moment yesterday. I got my royalty statement for the quarter. I was driving when I looked at it. NOT THE BRIGHTEST IDEA. (I promise not to do that again.) My hand started shaking. I was looking at the numbers, but on my phone they are really small and it was hard to make out exact figures. However, the one number that leaped out was # of eBook copies sold of My Roommate's a Jock? Well, Crap! I also had tears in my eyes when I called my closest friend to tell her the news. In three months, I sold over 4500 copies of one little book! To me, this is incredible and mind-boggling. It is amazing and exciting and thrilling! I didn't know it was possible. I know, I know, there are other authors that are way more popular and sell way more books than little ole me, but for ME to see that it is possible to sell so many gives me hope that this could happen again! 4500 copies with one book. PLUS, another 416 copies of When Love is Not Enough, tells me that maybe this isn't just a little hobby. More importantly, these kind of numbers might tell my husband that it is way more than a hobby!!! This is potentially as lucrative as a "real job." IF I wrote more! If I published more. IF I spent more time at it. So, yeah, I'm thrilled beyond belief because people might finally take me seriously.

There is nothing worse than someone chuckling when I say I'm a writer. There are many people who think it is silly and a waste of time. Talk about dumping cold water on my self-esteem. Thanks people. But this is what can happen in the real world where people are often CRAP. (This is my experience and we wonder why I'm bitter and cynical half the time??) Even my accountant has said, "You need to sell more books." ... to which I think, "Well, DUH! I'm trying."

It takes time. Especially when I start off with a book like WLINE that emotionally devastates people. Not a great way to start a new career. I NEEDED Jock. Writing a funny, cute, light-hearted romance was just what my writing needed. To write something that sells and in turn gets people to look around and pick up the first book I wrote is serious motivation to write more! I told you all I can't do this without my readers, without my fans! Sales mean my publisher will like me just a little longer!!! Without sales, I would be self-publishing which means more work for me and less time to write. So, from the bottom of my heart (and the middle and the top) THANK YOU ALL SO VERY MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT OF MY WRITING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have the very best readers and fans in the world! :D

This is all I have to say for now. I have a full day and need to get out of here. Thank you again.

Feel free to recommend my stuff :) Word-of-mouth travels way faster than my blog posts. ooooh, or you could MAKE me viral by passing this blog post around everywhere. Wouldn't that be cool?



By all means, follow me on Twitter, "follow" my BLOG, "like" me on Facebook, add me to your "circles" on Google+, check out my pins on Pinterest, review my books on Goodreads; and by all means, check my webpage often for changes.

Check out my books: My Roommate's a Jock? Well, Crap! andWhen Love is Not Enough. Read, review, or question me about them. If you like what you read, I’d love for you to be a“FAN” of mine on Thanks so much!

PS: gear up for the release of The Cost of Loving! Coming soon from Dreamspinner Press. When I have a date, I will pass it on to you!!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Kage Alan, TCOL, and living my life.

I find it interesting which blogs get oodles of "views" and the others that are over looked. lol. I can't figure it out. I posted a blog on Sunday and very few people view it. IDK. But it had an excerpt of WLINE so you MAY want to have a look. (HERE.)

Anyway... I used Kage's name to see if that was a title that got attention. Did it work?

This blog: What should I write about? IDK. I've been blah--not good. I haven't written much--not good. I had a headache all day yesterday--not good. And I have no idea what to blog about--not good.

One good note is that I got the e-mail conformation that The Cost of Loving is finally in the editing stage. YAY!!! (I wonder if that means it might come out sooner than August? IDK. Can I cross my fingers on that one?) But knowing that an editor has it and is reading it and will gat the first draft/run through to me soon is very exciting. And maybe in reading TCOL over and over for these edits I will get inspired to write book 3. I lost my mojo. I'm feeling overwhelmed. I think I put too much pressure on myself to make it awesome. You know I think I suck, right? Well, I don't want Darian's story to suck. I want it to be stunning. I want it to rip a readers heart out. (HAHA, much like WLINE has done for many.) So yeah, too much self-induced pressure.

I am stepping away. I am regrouping. I am trying to clear my mind. It will get written, and written soon. Promise. It is just very hard. (LOL... I think I can hear my cell phone ringing up stairs, but I don't feel like going to get it.)

Also, I wrote a blog for Kage Alan. Has anyone ever read his blogs> I have. Very interesting and insightful at times, and other times they are heartbreaking. I will be contributing to his series called "The Face of Gay." I'll let you know when it is up, probably in May.  Sharita Lira wrote the last blog on the face of gay. Check out her post.

Other than these thoughts I am basically living my life... Boring as that might be. I WANT to be a successful writer, but often I wonder at how hard that is. What a challenge! I have to admit that I don't like to "play the game" as probably necessary. I want to write what I want, not necessarily what is popular. To do that, I need my fans more than ever. I was asked recently whether my writing would change and if I'd lose "Wade's flare"--as if I have a flare, haha. My answer was, no. I might write another more popular title as I did with Jock, but only if the story comes to mind. I don't want to produce what other author's produce just to get you to read my stuff. Not my goal. Well, it IS my goal to be read, but not because it is the same old stories you are familiar with reading that make you feel good. I admit that I like writing controversial things, and I DO like making readers: cry, laugh out loud, throw things, get angry, yell at the characters, and sob uncontrollably. I WANT to push emotion to its limits whether it is good emotions or negative ones. Anger is good, because it sticks with you. In my opinion, if I make you mad then you may not forget my book so easily. Right?

Anyway... I promised an excerpt from TCOL. Here it is. (Chapter 1 & the prologue are on my website.)  ... (NOTE: Jamie's funeral was Sept. 24, 2010)

Chapter 2

October 2, 2010

Throughout that first week, their nights were spent in much the same routine. Darian would be asleep when Matt got home. Matt would wake him up; they’d make love, fall asleep, and make love in the morning. Matt would find Darian in bed again when he got home. Matt didn’t think all that much about it. It felt comfortable. Natural. He’d slept well for days because of it. He pushed aside his wavering feelings of moving-in-together paranoia and decided it was easier to enjoy each moment for what it was. On some level, it had become almost mechanical. Matt didn’t have to think about it; the days simply rolled into each other.
That is, until Matt walked through the apartment door Saturday night, and his easy-going sleep-sex-work-sex routine shattered.
For the first time in days, as he entered the apartment, he flipped open his phone on the way to deposit his keys on the breakfast bar. Without thinking, he pushed speed-dial four, and gasped in horror as Jamie’s voice sounded on the other end. Dropping his phone as if he had been stung, Matt covered his face and sat on the couch.
“Shit,” he gasped.
Jamie was gone! Matt could not believe how quickly that fact had become distanced from his everyday life. He dialed that number by instinct. He walked into the apartment and dialed Jamie the same as he’d done a thousand times before. Why? Because he was happy. Matt was elated to be coming home to Darian, and he wanted to share the news with Jamie.
Shit! How fucking messed up is that?
Matt felt sick with guilt. Cold sweat broke out along his brow.
He leaned forward and snagged his phone off the floor, and then he sat back again. He opened his pics app and scrolled through the few pictures that were stored there. Most of them were of Jamie doing something stupid—Jamie doing a lay-up with a basketball, Jamie crossing his eyes, Jamie sticking out his tongue, Jamie mooning Matt.
Jamie’s bare ass made him chuckle. Looking at these pictures reminded Matt of the good times they shared; and yet, seeing Jamie’s goofy smile after hearing his voice punched a hole in Matt’s stable charade. Jamie’s absence was more profound than ever.
The next picture was of Darian sitting on his couch, drawing.
Matt snapped the phone shut. He couldn’t take it. Too much change in too little time.
“Why is this happening?” Matt muttered helplessly, holding back his tears. He knew some of the answers but it wasn’t enough. Matt wanted to understand where this all fit together in the greater scheme of things, in God’s plan. He knew he wasn’t the strongest Christian, but he did believe in God’s sovereignty, and his faith was precious to him. There had to be a reason for so much pain! “Why God?” he asked. “Please help me to understand.”
Matt had never really thought about it before. Until this week, life seemed pretty easy—except for that whole part where he hid his sexuality from his family and friends for most of his life—Matt couldn’t really complain. He had a great family; he loved his job; he had an awesome best friend; and now he had the best boyfriend in the world! Only… the “boyfriend” part came in after….
Matt hung his head. He’d been a fool to think he could jump back into “life” the way it was. Everything changed last week. His perfect life dissolved and somehow he needed to deal with it and accept it, but he didn’t know where to start. Matt was afraid.
His solution by default was avoidance.
Matt hadn’t talked to his mom in days, something extremely rare. He was paranoid at work like never before because at any moment one of the guys could confront him with something they “heard” about him. Even talking to Jason was strained as if Jason knew but wouldn’t say.
Matt felt guilty for not coming clean at the beginning of the week, but the moment passed and he just couldn’t bring himself to broach the subject again. And the whole “boyfriend” part was a joke! They didn’t do anything but have sex. Matt couldn’t remember the last time Darian said anything outside grunts and moaning. It wasn’t a relationship no matter how much Matt wanted it to be.
Thinking about Jamie was painful. His best friend was gone. The worst part—contemplating the depth of deception Jamie had carried out for years. It boggled his mind! Jamie excluded Matt from the most meaningful parts of his life and knowing that made Matt angry and even more lonely.
His life sucked!
Matt needed Jamie more than ever. So much was going on; he desperately needed his best friend’s insight, but all he had left were his journals. Those fucking journals! Ink on a page, insignificant and hollow. Yet Matt yearned to read Jamie’s words, experience his feelings, and hear his voice in that way you do when you read a letter that someone wrote. It was how Jamie phrased things and assembled his thoughts. Every time Matt read the journals, it was as if he could hear Jamie’s voice like he was in the room! Matt wanted to read them now, but he couldn’t risk it. They were in the back of his closet in an old backpack where he hoped Darian would not be curious enough to venture.
At least I hope he doesn’t!
After Darian spent a few nights at his place, Matt knew it would be dangerous to leave the journals in his shirt drawer. He should get rid of them, but he couldn’t. Besides being a piece of Jamie, they were also his only piece of evidence that Joan Smithers was a complete lunatic.
Most of this is her fucking fault!
Matt clenched his fist but stopped his punch inches from connecting with the wall. Punching the wall might wake up Darian. He couldn’t do that and avoid explaining why he punched the wall to begin with.
“Joan,” he hissed in hatred. Matt remembered reading about all the horrible things she did to Jamie, but last Sunday when he had the chance to out her, he kept the truth to himself. Something inside would not let Matt place the full reality of Jamie’s suicide solely on his mother’s words. It seemed so very “un-Christian-like” to do that. He wanted his speech to reflect his thoughts clearly: Hatred and intolerance were the main cause of Jamie’s suicide. Why couldn’t he just say that Joan was the one who pushed the button?
Matt knew he’d have to tell someone soon. Joan could not be allowed to abuse her other children in the same fashion. He suspected there was something wrong with her. He and Jamie spoke of it several times. Maybe he could go to Jamie’s dad, Dan Miller? Maybe he should show Dan the journals?
Matt leaned his forehead against the wall. His mind was overloaded. And Jamie’s physical absence was wearing on him. Matt placed his palms against the wall on either side of his face as if he was attempting to hug something.
“Jamie,” he said quietly. “What do I do?” Jamie wasn’t going to answer. His words of wisdom had vanished. Matt must sift through his feelings on his own, but the idea of dealing with everything by himself left him restless and anxious. He didn’t know how!
Soon he would have to talk to people. His mom and dad heard his speech at church. He’d have to confront them, and more than likely have a religious debate over homosexuality—he wasn’t looking forward to that one. He had to talk to Jason. And most of all, he needed to discuss his feelings with Darian.
Whatever those feelings might be.
He felt something real for Darian, but where the caring part ended and the pure lustful desire that overtook his senses began, was anyone’s guess. Having sex with Jamie’s ex was not solving anything. They hardly spoke. And although Matt really enjoyed the sex, it was apparent in this moment as he hugged the wall and agonized over the nightmare his life had become, that they needed more. Matt’s conflicting emotions over losing Jamie and being with Darian twisted his guts into balloon animals from hell—little headless dogs, and legless giraffes chasing each other in the confines of his bowels.
Matt closed his eyes and shook his head, “I’m such a retard.” He never knew where the random imagery came from but it happened to him all the time. He turned around and walked over to the kitchen. He placed his keys on the counter and looked into the living room—continuing to reflect on the past week.
“What made me think everything was hunky-dory? I’m not okay. And Darian’s not okay—he’s sullen and withdrawn. Fuck!” Matt was so frustrated. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes that sat on the counter and took one out. He had the butt between his lips about to light it when he reconsidered. “Darian…,” Matt whispered, glancing toward the bedroom. “You quit for Jamie. I can quit for you.” Matt tossed the unlit cigarette in the trash. He held the pack in front of him a few minutes considering what he was about to do. Jamie hated his smoking, but he’d continued the habit for years. But for Darian… It wasn’t as tough a decision as he thought it would be. “I’m done.”
Again, he considered Darian. “What is going on with you?”
The apartment looked exactly as it had when he left that morning. Every morning. Matt knew Darian showered because the towel in the bathroom was usually damp. Darian must have gone out because his car was parked in a different spot a few times. Darian had to have gone to work because there were AE tags in the trash and a neatly folded pile of new clothes on one of the bar stools.
Matt stepped over to the pile and touched it.
Darian had worn Matt’s shirts a few mornings, and it was funny to see them billowing around his thin frame. Darian undoubtedly wore a small and Matt wore an extra large. “So,” Matt thought, touching the shirt lying on top. “You bought new clothes in lieu of going home to get yours?” Talking to himself was a trait Matt got from his mom; he couldn’t help doing it.
He turned toward the bedroom again. “And you’re sleeping a lot.” Sleeping most of the day and having sex half the night. If Matt knew anything from watching daytime television, it was that sleeping all the time spelled depression. Even more reason to talk to Darian. But when?
Tomorrow was church. Maybe after?
Matt walked down the hall and entered his aunt’s room. He knew if he went into Darian they would end up having sex—they always did. After hearing Jamie’s voice on his voicemail, Matt couldn’t think about sex. It felt like betrayal.
His mind was racing.
This is supposed to be about comfort, not sex!
To Matt, sex was comforting, but to Darian? Matt wasn’t so sure. Darian said he wanted Matt to make the pain go away. Perhaps Darian was using sex as a drug? Matt would have to bring that up as well.
For now, he’d sleep and try to have a conversation in the morning.

 FYI... TCOL can be read as a stand-alone. If you have not read When Love is Not Enough because the subject matter is too much, The Cost of Loving can be read out of order because I think the characters can be followed. I tryed very hard to recap as necessary, and fill in the blanks. BUT, it is better if you read it in order.



Sunday, April 21, 2013

Tearing people up? ... yes, well, I guess I am sadistic that way.

Ever since I started writing I thought it would be cool to make people laugh. Laugher is important. Laughter is good for the soul. And then I wrote When Love Is Not Enough and found out just how much satisfaction I get from making people cry. Tears are harder to win. So, yes, I am possibly a tad bit sadistic in that I enjoy knowing I cause people pain. Emotional pain that is, not physical pain, as the reader gets connected and invested in my characters. YES, I love it.

Partially because it killed me to write it! It is nice, and satisfying, to know that all the emotion it drained out of me to write a story like WLINE, that I am causing similar hardship on the reader. It has been 20 months since the release of WLINE, and by the time the sequel comes out, it will have been 2 years. 2 years and I am still tearing people up. GOOD. I find that emotional trauma stays with the reader longer. I need readers to remember me. I need them to remember how my book made them feel. Because if for no other reason, I need them to remember me because I am taking so freaking long to get another book published!!! So, yeah, don't lose that sick feeling you got when you read WLINE the first time. The sequel is coming. It is griping, I think, but for other reasons. No one dies, promise.

This morning I got this message. It made my morning: ''Finished when love is not enough. I don't really know how to say how good this book is. It made me cry and it made me hate and it made me smile. You truly have a gift. Thank you so much for sharing it. I am a better person because of it. I wish I could do a better job of sharing my feelings. But well I give up." I LOVE LOVE LOVE, hearing things like that. I can never hear it enough, because I forget all too quickly when I have ripped apart a reader. It is easier to make a person laugh, then to make them cry. (Well, maybe not for me. I tend to think my humor is stupid. I'll get better at it.) But to make someone cry? OH YEAH! Or make someone mad. Anger is a good emotion! It is strong!!! So, cool!! I'm extremely excited about making you mad.

Also got a message that 90 pages in I was causing emotional havoc. 90 pages. All I can say is, you may not make it. The end might kill you is 90 pages is that hard. Let's see... 90 pages... do we want an excerpt?? Of course we do. For those who read this book, let me know what you favorite part was. For those who haven't read WLINE, maybe you just need to grab a box of tissues and get ready to fall apart.

Chapter : 11

ARE you sure your mom won’t come home?” Jimmy nervously asked
one night in November as Darian walked him backward into his room.
Darian’s arms were locked around his waist, and his lips were attached
to Jimmy’s neck.
“Nope. She’s out with Jerry,” Darian answered between kisses.
“Wow, this one’s lasted at least three months.”
“Yup, they’ve even mentioned marriage.” Darian slid his hands
under Jimmy’s shirt and pushed it up, finding his nipples and pinching.
Jimmy yelped and then gasped. He pulled his shirt off the rest of
the way and tugged on Darian’s, who was quick to allow its removal.
Once shirtless, the boys pressed their bodies together and kissed hard
and long. They fell backward onto the bed. Darian straddled Jimmy and
expertly devoured his mouth.
When Darian finally moved his lips to Jimmy’s neck, Jimmy
asked, “Is your offer still good?”
Darian sucked hard and left a mark. “Offer?” More slurping
“To suck me off?”
Darian froze. He sat up and looked at Jimmy as if he could not
believe his ears. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I thought about you doing it for months, and next week is
your birthday and everything, and I didn’t know what to get you….”
He didn’t need to continue. Darian was sliding down his body and
rapidly undoing his jeans.
“Lay on the bed properly, so I’m not half on the floor,” Darian
“Are you sure no one will come in?” Jimmy asked as he got
“I’ll make sure they won’t.” Darian got up and locked the door.
“How’s that?”
“Better. Are you sure you want to—”
Yes! Oh, yes. Ever since I met you, in fact. And that weekend we
went swimming in the pond, I’m surprised you didn’t notice how…
glad… I was to see you shirtless. I’ve been dreaming about getting my
mouth on you all summer.” Darian pulled Jimmy’s jeans and briefs
down his legs and dropped them on the floor. “Glorious,” he mused.
Jimmy wanted to blush as Darian ogled him, but he wasn’t
embarrassed. He was turned on. The lust in his boyfriend’s eyes was
for him, only him. Darian got onto the bed and settled between his legs.
Jimmy closed his eyes and relished the kisses Darian planted on his
legs from his ankles to his inner thighs.
Matt will never understand how awesome it feels to know who it
is doing the kissing!
“Ohhh,” he moaned as Darian took him in hand. “Ahhh,” he
whimpered with the first swipe of Darian’s tongue. “Holy shit!” he
cried out when Darian took him to the back of his throat.
The pressure in his groin was mounting. He tingled and burned all
over from the pleasure Darian was giving him. Why did I wait for this
so long? Jimmy wasn’t sure. This was pure heaven. His entire body felt
like it was alive with dancing electricity.
No wonder Matt can’t stop. This is incredible!
His mind swirled. He was so close. Darian kept moving on him.
Jimmy grasped his hair and tugged. He could feel the vibrations from
Darian’s throat as he chuckled. Jimmy was so close.
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed his hips upward into
that beautiful, wet heat. “Ohhh, Matt.” The pressure exploded.
Darian jumped back just as Jimmy started spurting. “What did
you call me?”
The attitude in Darian’s voice was lost on him. “DareDarian.”
Jimmy’s body jerked. He was only slightly disappointed that Darian
pulled off before he came. This was the best orgasm of his life. He
sighed, contented.
“No! You didn’t!” Darian picked a shirt up off the floor and
pulled it over his head. He unlocked the door and hastily left the room,
leaving Jimmy lying naked on his bed.
Jimmy sat up and grabbed the nearest piece of clothing to wipe
off his sticky stomach. He found his underwear and pulled them on.
Why the hell is Darian so pissed? He couldn’t figure out what
went wrong. He felt amazing! I thought the greatest thing would be to
hear his name in the throes of orgasm…. Oh shit! It finally hit him that
he didn’t gasp Darian’s name—he’d said Matt’s.
Jimmy snatched up a shirt as he dashed out of Darian’s room. He
found him in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Tugging the shirt on, he
scrambled to apologize, “Darian, I—”
He was cut off by a death glare. Darian spit into the sink. “Save
it.” He took a swig of water and rinsed, then spit again. “Just get your
clothes and leave.” Darian wiped his mouth and left Jimmy standing by
the sink.
When he entered Darian’s room, Darian thrust his jeans into his
“Darian, please….”
“I said, just leave.” He was very stern.
Jimmy pulled his pants on and found his shoes. Guilt squirmed in
his gut. What could he do to make this right? He’d made the worst
mistake of his life. How could he possibly explain that he didn’t mean
it? “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did!” Darian cut him off again. “I always knew you had
a thing for Matt, but I kept hoping anyway.” Darian stood defensively,
with his arms crossed, facing Jimmy as he finished tying his shoes.
“I’m so stupid.” He turned away.
Jimmy arose and approached him. He placed his hands on
Darian’s shoulders and felt him tense up and attempt to pull away.
Jimmy turned him. “Darian….”
Darian pushed at his chest. “Stop.” He struggled again, but his
efforts were weakening. “Go away.” His voice cracked. “I want you to
leave.” Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.
“Darian.” Jimmy’s voice was soothing. He knew he was in the
wrong. When Darian stopped pushing on his chest, he wrapped his
arms around him and kissed his lips. Darian didn’t resist long. In
seconds he opened to Jimmy’s beckoning tongue. Jimmy groaned as he
invaded that wonderful mouth and explored. Oh, how he loved that
tongue! He kissed and moaned and moved his hands to grip Darian’s
Darian pressed his groin to Jimmy and rocked his hips. Then he
pulled back suddenly. “No. I can’t. I’m still mad that you said Matt’s
name. Just go.” He hung his head and turned away.
Jimmy complied, heavy hearted.

Again, sorry for the format. I pasted part of the pdf. Now, if you think poor Darian is getting hurt enough here, that ain't nothing.... He is in for a long ride. (And not in a good way...)

Thanks for reading.


By all means, follow me on Twitter, "follow" my BLOG, "like" me on Facebook, add me to your "circles" on Google+, check out my pins on Pinterest, review my books on Goodreads; and by all means, check my webpage often for changes.

Check out my books: My Roommate's a Jock? Well, Crap! and When Love is Not Enough. Read, review, or question me about them. If you like what you read, I’d love for you to be a “FAN” of mine on Thanks so much!

PS: gear up for the release of The Cost of Loving! Coming soon from Dreamspinner Press. When I have a date, I will pass it on to you!!

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

I'm an artist

At least I see myself as one. A "word" artist. That doesn't mean I'm claiming to be a good artist, or a poor artist, but simply that I see my talent as one of the "arts."Singing, acting, writing, painting, music-ing (haha); these are the types of things that come to mind when I think of "the ARTS." Therefore, I'm an artist.

How does one become an artist? Personally, IDK. For me I have always liked writing, but it never came together until around 2006. (Before that it was poetry and beginning chapters of stories.) Let me tell you, to tinker with writing for years and never finishing a story was fine, it was fun; but to write a story from beginning to END was exhilarating! It was sci-fi, and I still have it. 285,000 words (or something like that.) One day I will pick it up again, which will be cool for all those sci-fi fans, but until then I am sticking to the genre I am in now. How did I get there? Originally I wrote a "romance for a friend." Funny how something that seemed to simple turned into another "complete" story, which led to publication, which brought me here. To you. I am a gay romance author because I dare to push my artistry to whatever bounds necessary. My friend is gay, and I wrote a story for him. If he was straight, perhaps I would have written a straight romance?? Who knows. My muse doesn't discriminate, but the tales I have inspiration for right now are all gay romances. I'd also love to write gay horror so maybe I need to read more of Rick Reed to get inspired for that. lol.

Anyway... I fell into writing when I had an idea and ran with it. Only then did writing become something real and something maybe I could learn to do more professionally. I tend to desire the topics that are controversial. Not that the "gay" part isn't controversial on it's own, but I want to explore topics that readers don't see often. Maybe that is partially why I chose suicide. I surely felt very depressed and writing a broken character really helped release some one my pain. But suicide is not talked about often. It happens, yet I have not come across books about it like I have written. (feel free to correct me since I live under a rock and don't get out into the world much.) I feel like I want to write something different because not every romance starts with a young gay grad getting a new job and the hot boss is gay too! Ya know? I want to branch out in my thinking. My publisher does gay fiction mostly, so for now that is what I plan to write. I HAVE a publisher, why write something else and have to find a new one?? For now I'm not. If I write horror, sci-fi, paranormal, it will be with gay characters.

So, question, have you read WHEN LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH? Is it on your Kindle and TBR pile? I ask because the next Wade Kelly book to come out will be the sequel to that novel called The Cost of Loving. (projected for August/ September) Here is an excerpt to get you excited:

When Love is Not Enough. Chapter 18...

“I think I’m ready to say goodbye to Jamie, but you have to go
with me.” He saw Matt’s eyes go wide. “You don’t have to do or say
anything. Just stand near me, okay? If I know you’re there, I think I can
do it. I have to do it.”
“You got it.”
Darian felt cold when Matt let go of him, but he knew he had to
make it through the next few minutes unassisted. “I can do this.” He
chanted his mantra one more time.

He made it down the hall. He made it into the room. Darian even
made it all the way up to the casket without feeling his knees buckle.
When he saw the whiteness of Jamie’s surrealistic face, all the air was
sucked from the room. He stood there frozen in his tracks. “Jamie,” he
He could not pull his eyes away. He was glued to the morbidity of
embalmment. Here was the body of his lover and friend, made up to
look as though he was sleeping. It was sick. Jamie didn’t look like that
in his sleep. Jamie smirked in his sleep, most of the time. He dreamed a
lot and talked gibberish, but he definitely didn’t look serene in his
sleep. He looked amused.
This was gross.
Darian shook his head and took a step closer. “Oh, Jamie, what
did they do to you?” He reached out and touched Jamie’s fingers. They
were hard and cold. Darian shivered. “This isn’t you. It’s just a shell. It
isn’t you.” He backed away and glanced at Matt before running from
the room.
DARIAN sat in his mom’s house, fingering the syringe on his desk.
This world was too much! How could he get through one more day?
He’d thought he could say goodbye, but that corpse was not Jamie. It
was a shell. Now he’d have to say goodbye during the funeral… or
even worse, days later by Jamie’s tombstone. He couldn’t do it. It was
too much. The pain was too much.
Darian picked up the syringe and flicked the housing. A bubble
floated to the tip, and he squeezed just enough fluid from the needle to
allow the air to escape.
“Escape. I need to escape.”
Darian held the tip to the inside of his elbow. The vein bulged as
if it knew what was coming. He broke the skin and felt his heart rush
with anticipation. But before he pushed the plunger and injected his
veins with liquid bliss, Darian heard Jamie’s voice whisper, “Please

Violently he ripped the needle from his skin and threw the syringe
across the room. He heard the glass break, and he started to sob
uncontrollably. “I can’t do this, Jamie!” he yelled. “I can’t do this
alone!” He rocked his body in the chair, holding his head. “I can’t do
this.” His strength was all but gone.
Jumping up, he grabbed his coat and headed for the only place he
knew he could escape the pain.

What do you think? Does it make you want to know more? This is one of my favorite scenes. (Sorry about the format. I copied and pasted from the PDF file.)

Later this week, or early next week, I'm post an excerpt of The Cost of Loving. K?

I keep blogging because for some reason I can not think this week. Mind is all over the place. Stress, I guess. I will be writing book 3. I WILL! I just need to clear my head. If you saw my notes I think you'd be more encouraged to know that I have made progress. :)

Until laterz....



Remember:  Please, follow me on Twitter, "follow" my BLOG, "like" me on Facebook, add me to your "circles" onGoogle+, check out my pins on Pinterest, review my books on Goodreads; and by all means, check my webpage often for changes.

Check out my books: My Roommate's a Jock? Well, Crap! and When Love is Not Enough. Read, review, or question me about them. Thanks.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Fully exposed, except with my clothes on.

No frontal nudity. Disappointing to some, but believe me, it would scare most! This is the blog where I take the questions readers asked and answer questions about myself. The "self-interview" as it were. The questions themselves where all over the place, so I am not really sure how to categorize them or put order to them. Hopefully you can follow them and get what I'm saying.

Some questions are simpler to answer, so I may just start with them.

1. Vio asked: What do you wake up to? A rooster crowing on my cell phone. 
2. Beach or Mountains? Mountains one weekend, and beach the next. Living in Maryland makes that possible
3. Cats or Dogs? Snakes. … ok, I would pick "dogs." I like OTHER people’s cats, I just don’t want one. I have a dog. But I also have 7 snakes and a turtle in my bathtub. 
4. Macky asked: Laughing Buddha or Thai Buddha? IDK

5. Who would be your ideal dinner date? Like fantasy date? Um, Trevor Wright, because he’s hot. Or Huge Jackman. And I think Ian McKellen would be interesting to talk to over dinner. And Joseph Godon-Levitt is just plain cool! 
6. If you didn't write which other Talent would you like to have? I’d love to sing. My key is very limited and I screech a lot. 
7. If you were an animal what would you be and why? I have a thing for cheetahs because they are super fast! And beautiful. 
8. Deeze wanted to know: If you could have one super power what would it be? Answer: I’d like to fly. And I still have no clue as to what kind of risky areas there could be to a super power? X-ray vision, maybe? Lol... But I just want to fly!
9. Do you have a favorite Musical? On stage: Wicked. Movie: Meet Me in St. Louis 
10. What came first the chicken or the egg? lol. Chicken 
11. Back to  MackyIf Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled Peppers (here's the real question)
How many pecks of pickled pepper did Peter Piper ( actually) pick? My answer: a heck of a LOT   
12. If you could choose any other era to live in when would it be and why would you have liked to have lived then? No, I like living now. Other eras have poor health care, short-lived lives, bodily-waste in the streets… no thanks. I like now. 
13. Do you believe in the supernatural? yes 
14. Do you prefer the old batman series or the newer batman films? Tough call. I think they both have something cool to offer. 
15. If you won a million dollars what’s the very first thing you'd do with it? Pay off my house! 
16. Do you have a favourite song? I have lots. I love music. 
17. What smell would bring on a memory? Moss. And that “wet” smell near streams. My family always went trout fishing together when I was younger. 
18. Would you ever do a reality TV show? No, they seem pointless. I don’t like THAT much exposure. I deal with enough already. 
19. If "Jock" was made into a film who would you choose to play Ellis and Cole? I think Joseph Gordon-Levitt could pull off Cole, especially if he grew a goatee and had lighter brown hair. (Or Jamie Bell if he had brown eyes and a goatee.) Ellis: Nicholas Hoult if he had longer hair. What do you think? Can you see it? 
20. How old were you when you wrote your first story? Complete story: 38  
21. Do you get inspiration for your stories from real life or dreams? Both. 

22. West Thornhill: What is the most important thing you need to keep the writing flowing? Music? Total silence? Both serve to help me think. It depends on the section of the story I am stuck in. 
23. Nyia Pring Thompson: What do you do to relax & get back into the grove when you get writer's block? I read another author’s story. I know I need to read more anyway, (they say writers need to read a lot,) but I tend to read when my muse is silent. Then, I get inspired. And sometimes, it is not a NEW novel I pick up, but one I have read before and loved. I've read American Love Songs, and The Locker Room three times. 
24. Karen Hatfield: How old are you? 44 
25. Lynn Schmitz: What do you like to do when you're not writing? Sleep. LOL, but that rarely happens. Um, eat. I love to cook. 
26. Terry Farris: Were you the jock or the nerd? Nerdy jock. ;) I played sports but was not good at them. Coach liked me because I tried hard. I was kind of a loner, good at math, and very quiet. 
27. Cody Kennedy: How do you manage social media v. shyness (presumption)? Um, I am learning to relax and let go of fear. I am not typically shy anymore, although I used to be. Because of the “social media” and the prospect of meeting people at Bok Fairs and (for example) GRL, I am learning I need to get over being shy and embrace life. 
28. Terry Farris What made you decide to become a writer? And What do you think contributed the most to your being such an amazing writer? I started writing poetry in the 90’s. In 2006 I wrote what was basically a trilogy, and it was the first work that was a complete story. From there, I saw that I had the ability to follow through. Before that, no story ever got finished. So, I just kept writing from that point. As far as being "Such an amazing writer?" Lol… um, Probably going through a bunch of personal shit that pushed the limits of pain and emotion in my life and my only escape was to write it. Writing is my therapy. 
29. VioWhich Hollywood actor of the golden era would you consider to be kissable? Clark Gable (He’s in that era, right?) 
30. Candice, If you could leave something for future generations that would give them a glimpse into life as it is now, what would you leave? I seriously have no idea. Time Magazine, maybe?? IDK. 
31. Deeze asked: If there was a movie about your life, who would you like to see play you in a movie and who do you think would best suit playing you in a movie? lol. Like to see? Meg Ryan because she is my favorite actress. Best suit me? Mere Winningham (maybe) Although I do not look like her. 
32. and then Cody Kennedy asked a gazillion questions: Are you a shy person?
 I used to be. Then I grew out of it. Then I went back in when I was betrayed by people I knew for 10 years. Now I am coming back out of that shy-shell and learning to embrace myself for who I am. And I am NOT shy.  
33. Does social media scare you (like it does me?)
YES, but probably not for the same reasons. 
34. What is your favorite color? LOL, red. Although I wear more grey or brown more than anything. 
35. What do you do on your days off from work/writing? Drive my 3 children all over creation. I'm basically an un-paid taxi driver. 
36. Do you watch movies? LOVE watching movies. Read? Sometimes. Climb mountains? Leap tall buildings in single bounds? No, I’m too lazy for that.
37. Why do you write what you do? 
IDK. Personal pain just sort of inspired them I guess. My therapist asked me where I thought my stories came from. I told her: God. 
38. Which of your stories was the hardest to write and why?
 The one I am writing now. Love, Trust, and Learning to Live Again. It is complicated and being a 3rd book in a trilogy I have to keep facts straight, combine information from the other two, and try to make it interesting to read. (As apposed to boring.) 
39. I have never met you, so what does the real Wade Kelly look like? Long, brown hair, blue eyes, 5’1”, older than most people think. I wear Converse All Stars, and sarcastic T-shirts most of the time. :p   

40.  Since you raised it, why was 2010 an awful year for you?
 LOOONG story condensed to a nut-shell: Wade Kelly is a pseudonym. I was published a few years ago (under a different name) with DSP and the church I attended (at the time) found out it was a gay romance. Someone had stalked me, googled me, and printed out "evidence," went to someone else, who went to the pastor, who showed up at my door. He accused me of "fostering homosexuality" in the youth at that church and told me it was an abomination and therefore I needed to delete my website, Twitter, Blog, identity, etc. and stop writing things that were "very unchristian like." I was shocked, horrified, and terrified. I was going through an adoption and could think of nothing but the possibility of losing my child. So, I consented to do whatever necessary to get them off my back and out of my life. I lost ALL my friends because they treated me like a leper. No one talked to me. And I almost gave up writing. BUT... A different story kept whispering in my ear. WLINE. So, I took my pain, and wrote. 
41. Alternatively, why do you believe 2013 is your year?
 Because life has come full circle. I fear EVERYTHING back then. People I knew for 10 years turned their backs on me. But now, I am in a different place. The church I attend NOW, is supportive of choices, desires, and talents. I have even started to open up to people I know, and they are excited I'm a writer instead of being appalled at what I write. I see the world changing. Not only in my personal life, but in culture. Maryland now supports gay marriage! Life and times effect how people live. For three years I lived in fear of everything and everyone. Now, I am letting go of fear. 

I hid who I was because it was the only way I could write, and feel free to express myself, without my stalkers (and the people at the previous "church",) finding out. My intent was not to deceive readers, but hide from those out to persecute me. Now, in a time where I feel more secure about being ME, I feel the need to be honest about myself. Hiding was never about "selling more books," if it was I would never come out about being a woman. I've only got a couple novels published. I hope readers will still enjoy what I bring to them. Gender aside. The Cost of Loving is my experience with the church, in many ways. It comes out in August / September. (I fill you in on the date when I have one.) I have always intended to write from what I see, what I experience, and what I think others need to hear. I desire to bring hope to a broken world. If you want to know more: e-mail me.

Thanks to everyone for the questions, they were fun!



And Cody... I like quiet snakes, not squawking parrots!  ;)