Playing Catch-up

Hello all you lovely, PATIENT, people. I am thankful for that patience as I have not had anyone show up at my house and throttle me for new material, or remind me that I haven't blogged forever! I have no excuses you haven't already heard before a hundred times. We'll just chalk it up to being a terrible blogger and feeling as if I have nothing interesting to say.

What's Been Going On:

I went to San Diego for the GayRomLit conference. THAT WAS FUN! It was so nice to see so many people I love and also make new friends. Meeting people in person whom I have only known online is a thrill! I love to hug. Not that I HAVE to hug because there are people who are not as "touchy" as I am, and I'm okay with that. I just like people. I find this funny because I often say I "don't like people," but I suppose that has to do with the crappy things people do to each other. People backstab and judge. People cut others down. People complain and bitch. I am sure I've been in those categories, because hey--I'm a person! And while I might hate the things people do sometimes, I DO like to be around MY PEOPLE. I love so many of the fans I've met. I love so many of the other authors I've met. I love so many of the bloggers, and reviewers, and actors, and such I've met. So I can't just say I hate people. Not really. I have made some wonderful friends. Even friends who drive 9 hours to come visit me!!!! That's the kind of thing that makes a person feel pretty special!

I didn't see as much of San Diego as I would have liked, but I hope to go back again in the future! I also didn't get to meet Beth in person, so I HAVE to go back! I tried tagging all the people I talked to and had fun with in SD, but Facebook kept UN-tagging them as I typed. It was probably my internet. IDK. I also kept forgetting names until someone commented, and then I was like "OH YEAH! I forgot to mention that person!" I'm sorry of I didn't name you specifically. It wasn't intentional. So many wonderful people and so few brain cells.

Mailing List:

At the moment, I DO NOT HAVE a mailing letter, per se. What I have is a "Subscribe" section on my blog and this allows for blog posts to be delivered right to your inbox. (Normally the next day.) I subscribe to Matt & Brad's blog this way and I don't miss any posts. I don't always have time or internet to go online and read the post when Matt shares the link on Facebook, but I CAN open my mail and see the exact post in my inbox and read what one of the guys had to say. I think it is a handy feature. The down side is that I can not respond to the post/ email because it is not FROM Matt or Brad, but from FEEDBURNER. If I want to respond, I have to go TO their post and write a comment. (Not hard.) You all can do the same thing with MY BLOG! Just go to the right and find the spot that says "Follow by Email" and type in you e-mail address. I WILL eventually get a MAIL CHIMP newsletter mailing list, but until then, this is not a bad way to keep up with what is going on with me. If you would rather me get my tail moving on the Mail Chimp style newsletter, then please comment below and tell me! :)

Latest News:

I have contracted CHRIS PATTON to do the narration on the audiobook of Misplaced Affection. Things have just not worked out for the past year to get this AUDIO made, but I am very optimistic that it will happen by December! He is the voice behind the Adrien English series by Josh Lanyon, for those who don't know. He auditioned for my production last week and made me weep. He IS the voice of Flynn Brewer! In the past year while trying to get Misplaced Affection produced as an audiobook, I have met some really cool people. Everything is a learning experience and I hope (and see) that this has been a positive thing overall. Was it frustrating? YES! Do I think it was for the best? YES! And now I have the amazingly talented Chris Patton. I am grateful for the way things have turned out. I'll update you with the progress of this project and reveal the "cover" when we get closer to a release date. Thank you all for your patience! And if you like to cry and have your heart ripped out, Misplaced Affection will do that, and the AUDIO might just feel even more like it is all happening to you! IDK. Just guessing. For me audiobooks suck me in. I love them. I've listened to the AUDIO of JOCK 8 times because I love t, even though I wrote it. Jason Lovett does such a great job he has me laughing out loud often! My hope is that Chris Patton will deliver a killer performance that will make listeners crumble to their knees. :)

Planning Ahead:

I have a HUGE list of things to do and characters to write! The next 12 months will test me as an author and either kick-start a huge jump in my career or show me I am not cut out for this and I need to get a "day job." My hope is that THIS is my day job. My HOPE is that I can keep up the writing schedule that will help me be productive and successful. Part fo success is writing well, and part of it is understanding what sells. I don't want to give-in to popularity, and yet I have to understand as an author that some subjects are not going to have as many sales as others. --i.e. suicide is NOT a huge selling point! If ALL my books were like When Love is Not Enough then I cannot rightfully expect to make writing a career anytime soon. Am I glad I wrote it? You're damn right I'm glad. For those who have read it, I can not tell you how many e-mails of personal thank yous from fans/readers I've gotten explaining the significance and impact it had on them. For those people, I am glad I wrote it. I hope to always write meaningful things and write about gay culture and social issues that impact people on a personal level. Names Can Never Hurt Me has some really good concepts that readers have appreciated, yet that book too hasn't been very popular at all. Why? I don't know. Some books sell, some don't. I did say in the beginning that I see myself as a slow burn. My writing is fairly new to the scene and for the most part My Roommate's a Jock? Well, Crap! is holding my entire career together. Why? Because it's fun! People like fun. People like light. People like and escape that makes them feel good. As an author who wants to WRITE as a career and not a hobby, I need to keep this in mind as I move forward. Will I write more stories like When Love is Not Enough? You bet I will! The final installment of the Unconditional Love Series is in my writing queue. (I have one of those now!) Darian's story has been a long time coming, but it WILL get written! I promise. But then next few publications will be light and fun and cute. I need to build my audience!

Next Up:

The next novel to be published will be the second book in the JOCK series. No! Jocks Don't Date Guys is the sequel (if you will) to My Roommate's a Jock? Well, Crap! It is not about the same couple. JOCK 2 has a new couple of guys to fall in love with, but the older characters from book 1 do make an appearance! I don't have a publication date yet, but when I do I'll reveal the cover and attach a link for those who like to pre-order. I expect the galley proof soon and once I "okay" it, the link will go live on Dreamspinner's "coming soon" page about two weeks later. The pre-order link is about 4 weeks from the pub date. It should come out in December! Let's have a survey! Post to me below YOUR GUESS for the pub date. I'll keep guessing open until November 6th. Closest to the pub-date gets a free eCopy of JOCK 2. How's that? If two people guess the same date, then I'll give a copy to the first person who chose it. I realize this limits the amount of participants, but my blog doesn't get lots of traffic anyway and I'm only going to do this here for those who are loyal fans. :) I may do other contests in a blog tour, but I don't have any planned right now.

Blurb:

What is a sexy soccer stud supposed to do when “following family tradition” falls 180 degrees opposite his closeted ideal?

From birth, Chris Jackson has been schooled on how to land a cheerleader. After all, his father married one, and his father’s father before him. Heck, even his older brother married a stereotypical cheerleader the summer before Chris went off to college. For two years, Chris dodges invasive questions about relationships by blaming his lack of female companionship on grueling practices and heavy course loads. But his lack of interest in girls should’ve given his family a clue. It isn’t until Chris mentions meeting a boy that his father’s synapses short-circuit.

Alonzo Martin is anything but a buxom blond. From his black hair, combat boots, and trench coat to his nail polish and guyliner, the mysterious introvert isn’t easily persuaded to date. Alonzo’s insecurities keep Chris at arm’s length, but Alonzo’s painful past might meet its match in the charismatic jock’s winning smile and sense of humor.

When opposites attract, only cheerleaders and gummy bears can help overcome fear and family tradition.

PLUS, as an added bonus, I am giving away copies of a new short story I wrote for GRL (GayRomLit). JOCK 1.5 - Oh, Crap! This Jock's Getting Married. I wrote it for my fans and I wrote it FAST because I can never think of these things well in advance. I have it available online at ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS, or e-mail me for a copy, OR post a comment below and tell me what file type you'd like. Mobi (for Kindle), ePub (for Nook), or PDF. I ALSO LISTED it on Barnes & Noble AND iTunes, however the link hasn't shown up yet. Sorry.

On The Horizon:

As I said, I'm trying to make writing my career. With that in mind, I have a writing QUEUE for the first time in my life. I also have deadlines!!!!!! This is both exciting and scary! They say that busy people get things done, well I hope that is true. As I have particular stories to write because of deadlines, I also have new character yapping in my head. Great! Thank you, random characters, for making my life harder! (I say this with a note of sarcasm) I'm glad I have new characters yapping as I don't want that moment when they all dry up and go silent. A day of silence is more terrifying than one where I have too many things to write and too little hours in the day to write them.

What's coming up:

December 2015 - No! Jocks Don't Date Guys - from Dreamspinner Press
March / April 2016 - Banker's Hours - from Dreamspinner Press

In the writing queue:

Back Off! That's My Jock - JOCK 3 (I'm half way done)
His Boyfriend's a Jock? Oh, Phooey! - JOCK 4 (Next in line after JOCK 3 is submitted!)
Seducing His Secretary (a Dreamspun Desires novel I promised to Poppy.) 50k. It's like half a novel. Lol. 
My Lover Sucks! (Vampire horror comedy)
Love, Trust, and Learning to Live Again (book#3 of the Unconditional Love series.)
How I Became a Groupie (my rocker novel! I am finally going to write one!!!)
The Honorary Tooth Fayrie (The dental hygienist / dentist story) 
Only Skin Deep (book#2 of the Self Esteem series. Comes after Names Can Never Hurt Me)

And somewhere in there I am writing a novel with Jeff Adams!

Plus, the new characters who are yapping are a part of a new series I am planning to write about a group of artists at an all Jock school. (Sort-of) *wink, wink, Amelia Vaughn*

So yeah! I have my work cut out for me. If I'm not online I HOPE to tell you I am writing because I better darn well be writing! Too many stories and too little time!

So please, comment below or e-mail me. writerwadekelly@gmail.com

1) Tell me your guess for the pub date for JOCK 2 to enter to win a free copy. Contest runs Today - November 6, 2015.

2) Comment below for a free copy of JOCK 1.5! Written to gear you up for the release of JOCK 2. Email address and file type.

3) Comment about a "real" newsletter via Mail Chimp.

4) Tell me if you are as excited as I am about CHRIS PATTON!

And as always, refer to the "Wade Kelly Scale" of angst before reading one of my books. You need to prepare yourself!

As Jason says,
Hugs and Kittens!
~Wade

Tuesday Teasers – No! Jocks Don’t Date Guys

For those who are not on Facebook, you may not know that I contracted another book in the JOCK series. No! Jocks Don’t Date Guys is books #2 and is the sequel to the ever popular My Roommate’s a Jock? Well, Crap! I signed a contract very recently and Dreamspinner is due to begin production in a few weeks. The estimated time for publication is November or December. I am very excited about this one. I think the story is very sweet. Alonzo Martin turned out to be one of my favorite characters yet! And I think Chris Jackson is just fun :)

This is the blurb until it is revised by the editors:

What is a sexy soccer stud supposed to do when “following family traditions” falls 180 degrees opposite his closeted ideal?

From birth, Chris Jackson had been schooled on how to land himself a cheerleader. After all, his father married one, and his father’s father before that. Heck, even his older brother married their father’s definition of a stereotypical cheerleader the summer before Chris went off to college. For two years, Chris dodged invasive questions about relationships by blaming his lack of female companionship on grueling practices and heavy coarse loads; but really, his lack of interest in girls period should have given the family a clue. It wasn’t until Chris mentioned meeting a boy that his father’s synapses short-circuited.

Alonzo Martin was anything but a buxom blond. From his black hair, combat boots, and trench coat, to his nail polish and guyliner, the mysterious introvert was not so easily persuaded to go on a date. Alonzo’s insecurities kept Chris at arm’s length, but even his painful past couldn’t compete with the charismatic jock’s winning smile and sense of humor.

When opposites attract, only cheerleaders and gummy bears can overcome fear and family traditions.

I am also excited to tell you I am currently writing book #3 in the series, as well as a stand alone contemporary romance called Banker’s Hours, and I am rewriting a book I had written years ago, had published, and which as since been taken off the market called Sculpting Clay. I wish to rewrite it, make it better (I hope), and bring it back in print over the summer. I would like to keep my fans happy while waiting for JOCK 2 to come out in the winter. My PLAN is to write and submit a book every 3-4 months and once that roll starts, then I SHOULD start having a publication every 3-4 months. (In theory, I haven’t proven that correct yet.) Fingers crossed, I can actually make this a career and not a part-time hobby. People in my real life don’t often respect the “author life” unless I am actually making money to support my family. Ya know? Plus my husband probably needs a less stressful job, so if I can make money, then he can switch jobs. This will be better for us!

This week, my excerpt is from No! Jocks Don’t Date Guys, but next week, I’ll give you a glimpse into Banker’s Hours. How’s that?

Hugs and kittens ** LOL, Jason :)

Excerpt:

Chapter 1

New Coach

Soccer practice was about to start when I noticed a guy, all dressed in black, walk around the corner of the stadium fence and climb the steps, two at a time. I watched this lone spectator out of the corner of my eye as I squirted water into my mouth, and then all over my face, from my favorite water bottle with the pull-top spout. My best bud, Doug, had given it to me for my birthday last May, and I swear it was the best gift ever because not only did it not leak in my car, but when the top was screwed off, the opening was wide enough to get my hand in to wash it. I took it with me everywhere. I snapped the spout closed and tossed it in my bag. A casual glance around, and that guy was still there—watching.

I knew he wasn’t watching me, as I assessed his ocular trajectory from the way his head was positioned. He was taking in the whole field. Although, the same thing could be said of me as I surreptitiously noted his characteristics, while turning my head as if scanning the bleachers and the near-by sand pit. I was the sly, stealthy kind if I did say so myself. Practice makes perfect, after all. The rest of the team didn’t need to know how easily I could get distracted from the actual reason we were all here at 8:00 a.m. Soccer was life, but in the other three hours of the day when soccer, food, and sleep was not on my brain, I liked observing people. Guys in particular, because I guess I was always on the prowl for that one guy who would grab my soul and melt my heart.

Okay, enough of that.

I mainly noticed this guy because one solitary dude, sitting at the top of the football stadium bleachers, dressed in a black trench coat and combat boots, in August, two weeks before classes started, wasn’t normal. I noticed details like this all the time. Things out of the ordinary, juxtaposed against the backdrop of college soccer, were fascinating. His presence was idiosyncratic or peculiar in this setting and the very definition of my weakness. The oddities of life, the strange and weird, always drew me in.

Why was he here?

Sometimes I hated the way I noticed details, because people often wanted to go unnoticed when their individual oddity wasn’t popular or pleasant. Scars for instance, rarely escaped my attention no matter how hard I tried to overlook them.

Case in point: the left wing on the team, Marshall, had a scar on his lip. I’d surmised it was from cleft-lip surgery, same as I knew no one else would have given it a second glance. He had a mustache to cover up the tiny scar, which had to have been done when he was a child, yet I’d noticed it. It was in the way he smiled. Normal and bright, yet off-center enough not to slip my keen observation.

I also had a thing for tattoos, piercings, and Mohawks because I always wanted to know the motivation behind them. Was the hairstyle for attention or did the person simply get pleasure from the dramatic flare? Did a tattoo have special meaning or was it a random decision? Things like that went through my mind all the time. I had one tattoo on my ribs, which held particular meaning to me. It was a quote from Hamlet, but since I’d had it inked in Latin, most people didn’t know what it said and oddly no one ever asked.

The trench coat guy was no exception to my fascination.

In the sixty seconds I spent on the sidelines taking a drink of water and scoping-out our unexpected spectator, the rest of the team came stumbling in behind me.

“Dude! Why you always gotta show off and beat the team back?” Preet asked, doubling over and grabbing his sides.

He was a fun guy with a Pakistani father and a Turkish mother who’d been in the United States since way before Preet was born. He had dark skin and feathery hair that I often thought about touching, except that he was straight. I answered him with a chuckle. “Preet, the captain always needs to lead the team, even if it means running the first three laps the fastest.” I clapped him on the back as my buddy Doug winked at me. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already. Practice hasn’t even started.”

Preet groaned. I suspected he’d spent way too much of his summer in front of the television. Sucks to be him!

Doug knew about me and my ever-so-slight crush on the handsome defensive player. He knew everything there was to know and probably some things I didn’t even know myself. We’d been best buds since middle school, when I dropped my chocolate milk in the cafeteria and he offered me his. Chocolate milk had solidified our friendship and it still worked to this day. If we ever had an argument, all Doug needed to do was buy me a little carton of chocolate milk and I’d forgive him. So far, he’s only had to do that twice in seven years.

“Don’t try to understand him, Preet, just go with it,” Doug instructed.

The other players flopped on the grass all around me, some heaving as if I’d taken them on a five-mile sprint, and others sipping on their water bottles as they waited for the next drill. I’d hoped the coach would have shown up by now, but he was late. I grabbed my phone from my bag and checked for any texts.

Coach Marks had been the school’s soccer coach for years, and our soccer coach for the past two seasons. I use the term “our” loosely because some of the guys who’d turned up for this first practice were obviously freshman. The coach had been at try-outs and these guys were obviously good enough for him, but I was skeptical. But coach… where was he? I was a junior, looking to have another awesome season playing with many of the same guys as the year before, and also with my buddies Doug and Cullen. It was unusual for the coach to be this late. No texts. This was disconcerting. I’d just seen him on Saturday and he hadn’t said anything.

I glanced up from my phone in time to see the athletic director riding his golf cart around the track and through the gate, which encircled the football field. Normally, we didn’t play on the stadium field, nor did we practice there on a daily basis. The soccer team had a practice field for sprints, drills, and try-outs, as well as its own official fields to play on, but the coach had made it a tradition to start on this field the first day to give the players a visual of professionalism and grandeur. He had told us in previous years, “The team needs to be just that—a team. Without teamwork, the parents and fans that come to fill the stadium seats gather only to witness a bunch of little boys running around kicking a ball with no purpose. Is that why you’re here?” Coach had asked.

In unison we’d answered, “No, sir!”

“Then look around you, boys,” he’d charge us, “and take it in. You must earn your spot with skill, sportsmanship, and teamwork. We come together as a team out there,” he would point toward the practice field beyond the fence and visitor side bleachers, “so we come in here. We dominate our home field as one fluid unit.” He’d also commented about the costs involved with building a brick stadium and if we ever wanted a more prominent place to play, we needed to impress investors.

His words meant a lot to me. They had settled over us as a team and we’d done fairly well last year even if our record showed eight wins, eight losses, and a tie. Coach had been proud because we played our hearts out. He’d gotten us to think as one and I was looking forward to pulling the new guys into our flow. But where was the coach?

I met the athletic director as he stepped out of the golf cart. “Hey, Mr. Mathews,” I greeted him. “Where’s Coach Marks?”

He shook my hand and nodded to the team as they closed in around us. “Hello, Chris. I hate to inform you like this, because I know how much Tom Marks means to you boys, but he won’t be coaching you this season.”

“What?” I asked as the others groaned, almost not believing him yet seeing his sincerity.

He nodded some more. “I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” I asked. “He’s okay, isn’t he? He was just here for try-outs. What happened?”

“He’s fine. It’s his wife’s family. There was a death, and as far as I understand, they left for Portland last night. He tendered his resignation and apparently plans on moving the whole family to Oregon. That’s all I know until he e-mails me back.”

I looked at a few of the players. Their eyes hopped from one to another and back again. It was as if no one really knew what to say to that. I admit; the reason was an odd one. I’d never known anyone to up and move so spontaneously, but then I hadn’t had a family member die that I could remember, other than my grandmother and she was old. But this was plain weird. What would we do? Who would coach us? How would the school find someone before our first scrimmage next Thursday?

I spoke up and voiced what the team had to be thinking. “Um, what about a new coach? Is it going to be you?” I asked, but I was hoping the answer wasn’t yes.

“No, Chris. Not me.” He grinned. “I don’t know enough about soccer to do you boys any good. Golf is my game. No, the school board has been searching for a new coach all day; don’t worry. That’s why I’m out here. I was going over my e-mails from yesterday before deleting them, when I came across one the administrator sent to the new coach, which I was copied on. That was a good thing because it seems the date was incorrect so he was originally told to start coaching August twentieth.”

Cullen piped in, “But today is the tenth. Our first scrimmage is on August twentieth, what do we do until then?”

“Exactly my point,” Mr. Mathews concurred. “I jumped on the horn right away and told him about the mistake. Ironically, he’d second-guessed the date himself because he had the soccer schedule already programmed into his calendar. He was already in town, setting up his office, and planned to contact me tomorrow. I simply beat him to it.”

“Office?” I asked. Somewhere the details were getting muddled and I personally liked filling in those gaps.

“Yes, he’s the new English teacher on staff. His office is on the third floor of the English building. Anyway, he was already here and hoping to meet with me this afternoon. When I called, he said he’d drop what he was doing so he could head over to meet everyone. He’s a very exuberant, young lad.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Young lad? How young are we talking?” I wondered because most of us were between eighteen and twenty-two. It would be weird to take orders from a guy our age. In fact, if the guy was my age, I think I’d push to coach the team by myself. Who was this “young lad” anyway?

“He’s twenty three.” The murmurs started and he held up his hands. “And before you all get up in arms over his age, let me tell you I was a bit skeptical myself. But as it was explained to me, he wasn’t hired to coach soccer. He was hired to take Mrs. Blakely’s position when she retires. His background in soccer was coincidental and convenient. They offered him the position tentatively because Coach Marks left the school in a tight spot. If he isn’t working out within a few weeks, I’ll take over until a permanent coach can be found. He can’t officially start coaching until Thursday because of other obligations, so that leaves you all on your own for a couple days, which I think you can handle. What I want from you all is patience and cooperation. Can you do that?”

I turned and looked at my guys. I met their eyes one by one. I could read their minds even if only by the strength in their expressions. I knew them. My teammates, even the younger newbies, all had one goal on their thoughts—winning. If winning came by coach “young lad’s” hand, or by Mr. Mathews, or by my leadership through example, we’d all be happy. So yeah, “young lad” would get his chance in the sun.

I turned back around and held out my hand and Mr. Mathews shook it. “Yes sir,” I answered. “You’ve got our promise to do our best. And this new coach, no matter his age, will find he has the best group of guys if ever there was a team to coach.”

“Thank you, Chris. I kind of figured I could count on you. Tom told me you were an outstanding leader.”

“So, when’s he getting here?”

“Um, hopefully before practice ends. I caught him fresh out of the shower when I called.”

I turned around and slapped my hands together. “Okay, you heard him guys. What we want to do is show this new coach what we’re made of. When he gets here, whenever he gets here, we’re going to be full out doing drills and working it hard. No slackers on my field. Coach Marks might be gone, but his motto still stands. We play as a team! We learn teamwork off the field, so that when we walk onto the turf of the Green Terror Soccer Complex on game day, everyone watching will know we play as one.” Then I shouted, “Are you with me?”

They all shouted back, “Yes sir!”

I chuckled to myself. No one called me sir normally and it was funny to hear it now, but I knew they meant it figuratively. I wasn’t going to gloat or bask in it.

“All right,” Mr. Mathews said. “I’ll leave you to it. He should be along anytime.”

“First things first, we’re going to do a another mile around the track. Tomorrow, we’re going to do two miles. Wednesday we’re going to do timed laps and anyone under the coach’s ‘try-out’ time, gets fifty pushups and then has to run again. Got it?”

Then it occurred to me that I hadn’t asked the new coach’s name. I turned and shouted at Mr. Mathews as he pulled away in his little golf cart. “You didn’t tell me his name?”

Doug clapped me on the shoulder. “Maybe it slipped his mind. Remember last year when he kept calling me Derek? Sometimes he’s not all in there.”

“True.”

“So you’re on board with all this?” Doug asked.

I shrugged and encouraged him into a private huddle with my arm around his shoulders. I told him quietly, “I guess I have to be. You know our team needs to be a team. If I lead them into mutiny because I don’t like the terms of ‘young lad’s’ leadership, then I’m not the leader that coach told Mr. Mathews about. I’d be a mutineer, a traitor, and in danger of being thrown overboard.”

“You’re gonna call him young lad to his face, aren’t you?” Doug asked with a smirk.

I grinned back and chuckled. “Oh God, I hope not. He wouldn’t get it and then I’d be that doofus who didn’t know his name.”

“But you don’t know his name.”

I pulled back and gave him a non-threatening glare. “Of course, you go there. Great. Now you’ve jinxed it. He’ll get here and I’ll be all like, ‘Hey, coach Young Lad. How’s it going?’ Great. Thanks, Doug. You’re a real pal.”

He laughed and we turned around to look at the rest of the guys who were sitting and standing, but all wondering what the heck we were talking about. That was my cue. I knew playtime was over.

I rubbed my hands together vigorously and got down to business. I ordered, “Okay team. Let’s hit that track!”

They groaned, but I kind of thought it was from their disapproval of my satisfaction over temporary leadership. I, on the other hand, enjoyed it immensely. Maybe I was born to be a drill instructor. I laughed all the way to the track, and around it, and while I waited for all of my teammates to catch up. Yes, it was good to be king.

***

Two hours later, my guys were drenched in sweat and ready to hit the showers. I told them to meet at the practice field the rest of the week at 8:00 a.m. every morning for two hours and again at 6:00 p.m. for an hour of shooting drills and goal kicks. The guys groaned, but everyone agreed to it. Besides, practices twice a day were only until classes started. I wasn’t a sadist.

I grabbed my bag and looked toward the bleachers. Trench coat dude was still there. He had sat in the same spot for two hours in the morning sun, watching. Who was he watching? Or was it just the solitude of sitting alone that thrilled him?

As the guys drifted away, climbing the hill toward the athletic building or their dorm rooms respectively, and only a few of us were left, trench coat guy stood up and started descending the steps. Interesting. Maybe I could follow him and find out his deal.

Or, maybe I could get arrested for being a perverted stalker. Yeah, my ideas weren’t the best.

Before I took a step, another peculiar guy was in my sight. This one was jogging right up to me with a bright smile on his face, and I could not say I’d ever seen a whiter set of teeth.

He held out his hand to me and said, “Hi! My name’s Ellis Montgomery. I’m your new coach.”

Wow. I had to admit that I probably would have addressed him as “young lad” if I’d been on my game, and made a joke or something to distract myself from his incredibly gorgeous blue eyes and hot soccer-player bod under his tight red tank, but my mind was zeroed in on the one guy, all dressed in black, who’d sat for two hours in the sun watching us practice soccer, who’d just hit the last step and was about to exit through the gate and ascend the steps toward the wellness center before I could catch his attention.

I desperately needed to know who trench coat guy was and why he was so interested in our team. Coach Blue Eyes would just have to wait.

What's Up? Wednesdays -- What Works?

Well, obviously it is NOT my Internet that is working. It has been out more than it works. So far, I haven't been so bothered that I felt the need to take up all my time and sit on the phone with Verizon and fix it. It took two hours last time and it only worked a day. The issue is actually two-fold.

I have Verizon for internet and for my home phone. I have Sprint for wireless. The Sprint booster tower and the Verizon modem/router do not communicate well. Every day the Sprint tower cycles through and reboots itself (so the representative said) and it then kicks out the internet because the Verizon modem doesn't like the Sprint tower. Something like that. What it means for me is the internet isn;t working most of the time. I need internet for the Sprint tower to function and send the signal to my phone. Without internet, I also have no cell phone. This sucks!

Do I have time to drive somewhere in order to blog and tweet and post on Facebook? Not really. The other day I was able to post to Facebook and check messages while I was in Westminster doing other things. I can be in Target waiting for my daughter's prescription and "like" something on Facebook, or make a comment, but I can not write a blog post. Maybe there are people who do use the Blogger app on their iPhones to post, but I find it difficult and annoying. The phone is small. I don't have the bigger keyboard and the multiple tabs to search for photos and links to add. It seems like too much work so I don;t post. Bu then days go by… DAYS, and I don't have any blog posts. I was trying very hard to get into a routine and post every day or at least several times a week.

I blame the internet for my lack of posting!!!!

I'm also a slacker when it comes to writing. My goal was to have my WIP done by April. It is April 1st and I am not done. There is the argument about setting priorities and I have, but my priority always circles back to my family and I guess we did a bit to much over the weekend and I didm;t write as much as I wanted. I am trying!!! I promise. I have written more in the last couple months than I normally do and I hope to continue that pace. The key is in consistency and i hope that being consistent with writing will produce more books.

Also, with that in mind, I am trying to focus on WHAT WORKS for me. Getting up at 4:30 a.m. works. My mind of more focused and creative in the mornings so writing as soon as I have my coffee DOES get the most results. I am up to 76k on No! Jocks Don't Date Guys, so keep your fingers crossed  that I keep that ball rolling!

Comedy works. Light-hearted works. In order to make a career out of writing I have to focus on what readers want and what sells. YES, I want to write meaningful things that grip readers and rip their hearts out, but that is not what sells well. Happy and light-hearted sell! I will continue to write the deeper things because they mean something to me, but I think the key to being successful is learning to balance it with the happy, fluffy stuff. Since I have a history of writing ONE BOOK A YEAR, it hasn't panned out well for me. I was stuck in the deep, angsty mode for a while and so my career has been tough. I hope this year will turn it around for me.

Or, more specifically, my writing THIS year, for projected sales NEXT year. I'm not in it to be rich, but I also don't want to get cornered financially where I am forced to to a "real" job. I don't want to work at anything other than writing. I learned a lot about marketing, so now is my chance to put it to use, but I can only do that if I have books to market! Writing comes first. I need to write consistently, as well as write more light-heartedly!

That is my goal and focus right now. My "JOCK" series has potential so I'm running with it. Readers love JOCK. Cole & Ellis, and Rob & Russell are funny. I need more funny. I'm working on Chris and Alonzo right now, hoping they will be a hit. (I really like them!)

We are all familiar with the SCALE, right?

I am shooting for a "2" for No! Josks Don't Date Guys. Whether or not IS a 2, I think I will have to ask my beta readers for their assessment as compared to My Roommate's A Jock? Well, Crap!
When I originally planned it, JOCK 2 was falling closer and closer to a 4. I am not supposed to be writing angst! It is so hard not to. So I changed some things and lost some words, and reshaped the angsty parts to be less strong. I don't need to kill my readers with a supposed comedy. Right? LOL!!!!

It is lighter now. I also reread my "blurb" to remind myself what the book is about. I think Blurbs are helpful, especially when they DO describe the content.

What is a sexy soccer stud supposed to do when “following family traditions” falls 180 degrees opposite his closeted ideal?

From birth, Chris Jackson had been schooled on how to land himself a cheerleader. After all, his father married one, and his father’s father before that. Heck, even his older brother married their father’s definition of a stereotypical cheerleader the summer before Chris went off to college. For two years, Chris dodged invasive questions about relationships by blaming his lack of female companionship on grueling practices and heavy coarse loads; but really, his lack of interest in girls period should have given the family a clue. It wasn’t until Chris mentioned meeting a boy that his father’s synapses short-circuited.

Alonzo Martin was anything but a buxom blond. From his black hair, combat boots, and trench coat, to his nail polish and guyliner, the mysterious introvert was not so easily persuaded to go on a date. Alonzo’s insecurities kept Chris at arm’s length, but even his painful past couldn’t compete with the charismatic jock’s winning smile and sense of humor.

When opposites attract, only cheerleaders and gummy bears can overcome fear and family traditions.

So… what do YOU think readers? Does this WORK for you?

Stop back on Tuesday. I hope to have internet enough to post an excerpt. Or are you on FB? Have you already read one? Tell me what you think?

HUGS :)