New novel approaching

GQ100I was curious, curious what happened to Lonnie Bellerose and Jamison Coburn after my novella Good Question ended. I felt there was a lot more there to mine, more conflict, doubts, trouble on the horizon. Therefore, I wrote The Answer Is, which comes out Monday, June 15. Lonnie and Jamison are trying to make their nascent relationship work, but their insecurities keep tripping them up. Add a former lover intent on winning Lonnie back and a loving mother who can’t quite face her son’s honesty, and things go from shaky to shattered. Below is an excerpt. I hope you enjoy it.

TAI200Blurb: Two men from different worlds must realize they deserve to be loved and what they have together is real and worth fighting for.

Though Jamison Coburn and Lonnie Bellerose have been a couple for a month, each worries he’s not good enough for the other. Lonnie has always doubted his worth and right to be loved, despite a superb education and international upbringing. Jamison, an undereducated laborer, grew up in a loving family who never knew he was gay.

As Jamison struggles to find his way as an out gay man, he fears the occasional stumble will send Lonnie packing. Lonnie doesn’t trust that anyone would choose him and worries that Jamison will see better options.

When Lonnie’s abusive ex returns, he’s determined to reclaim Lonnie. He works to exacerbate the new couple’s differences and doubts in the hopes of splitting them up, which is proving too easy.

For their love to last, Lonnie and Jamison will have to be brutally honest, not only with themselves, but with each other.

Excerpt: Lonnie sighed and hugged himself, trying to appear at ease as the crowd moved around the room. After all, he was an artist standing in a gallery that displayed some of his best work to date. He should be all smiles and charm and wit. Instead, he felt as though he stood out like a two-headed goat, afraid to move, all hooves and confusion, bleating above the conversations.

On top of that, Lonnie had the distinct impression of being watched. He couldn’t shake it. He looked to his right and his left, then settled again on examining the campus beyond the wall of windows at the gallery’s entrance. He searched the mist-shrouded grounds for any sign of Jamison, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Here, have a drink, Mr. Bellerose.” Professor Eloise Bink smiled and sipped her champagne, urging him to do the same from the flute she’d provided. She taught several art history classes, and Lonnie had been her assistant while earning his master’s.

He took a sip, then said, “Just call me Lonnie, please. I’m not your TA anymore.”

She smiled and tossed her short and sassy new haircut out of her eyes, the silver-gray strands catching the light. “I’ll call you Lonnie when you call me Eloise.”

He frowned in thought. “I think I can handle Bink but nothing more casual. Will that do?”


They sipped in unison, the bubbles nearly making him sneeze.

“You appear agitated. Waiting for someone?”

“Jamison’s coming, though he should be here by now.”

“No family?”

He shook his head. “Parents in France, Amber birthed a new human being, and brother-in-law is hovering, so… no. No family tonight.” A chill ran through him, so he took another sip of his champagne. It didn’t warm him, and this time he did sneeze, loudly, causing a few heads to turn in fright. His face heated, and he nodded his apologies before depositing the flute on a passing tray.

He turned to the entrance again and gasped softly. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, he caught a glimpse of a tall, broad-shouldered silhouette hurrying toward the building. The campus lights along the path reflected off what little fog lingered above the lawn, giving the approaching figure a mysterious, superhero-like quality. To Lonnie, he seemed to be moving in slow motion and to his own soundtrack. Lonnie’s heart soared, and he excused himself from Bink to cut through the crowd and meet his man at the door.

“Hi,” he said, beaming up at Jamison as he walked in looking all kinds of gorgeous.

The worried frown on Jamison’s face vanished as he smiled down at Lonnie. “Hi, yourself.”

“You look fantastic.” He stood on tiptoes to give Jamison a peck on the lips, but Jamison pulled back, the frown returning, his gaze darting around the gallery. Lonnie sighed, took his hand, and tugged him deeper into the room. “I have someone I want you to meet.” He paused to look over the faces surrounding them, and when he spotted Bink again, he resumed his tugging.

Glancing around as he followed Lonnie, Jamison asked, “Isn’t your fam—?”

“No,” Lonnie said, “but they sent their congratulations.”

“Ah, Lonnie, back so soon?” Bink said, turning to face the two of them as they reached her. She blinked up at Jamison, her expression remaining warm and friendly. “Whom do we have here?”

“This is Jamison Coburn. Jamison, this is Professor Eloise Bink. I’ve mentioned her before. I was her teaching assistant.” His words rushed out as he gripped Jamison’s big left hand tightly. Mine.

“Yes,” Bink said. “I’m certainly going to miss you in that capacity. Perhaps I’ll find something else for you.” Lonnie laughed at that.

Jamison’s hand swallowed hers. “Good to meet you, ma’am.”

“And you, Mr. Coburn.” She grinned at Lonnie before continuing. “Anyone who can make him daydream at his desk is definitely someone I want to get to know.”

Lonnie gazed up at Jamison and caught the embarrassment as it crossed his handsome features. His chest filled with joy and pride that Jamison was here for him.

“Oh… I don’t know about that, ma’am,” Jamison said.

“Bink, Mr. Coburn. Please call me Bink.”

“If you’ll call me Jamison.”

She grinned. “Agreed. Champagne?” she asked, grabbing fresh flutes from a passing waiter. She handed them each a glass, and they clinked them in a toast to Lonnie’s accomplishment.


I hope your interest is piqued. Catch up with Lonnie and Jamison, and their family and friends on Monday, June 15 when The Answer Is debuts.

Andrew Q. Gordon

The latest novel from Andrew Q. Gordon has landed, and I’m sharing that great news with you, my faithful readers. Andrew wrote his first story back AQG hdshotwhen yellow legal pads, ballpoint pens were common and a Smith Corona correctable typewriter was considered high tech. Adapting with technology, he now takes his MacBook somewhere quiet when he wants to write. He currently lives in the Washington, D.C. area with his partner of eighteen years, their young daughter and dog.  In addition to dodging some very self-important D.C. ‘insiders’, Andrew uses his commute to catch up on his reading. When not working or writing, he enjoys soccer, high fantasy, baseball and seeing how much coffee he can drink in a day and not get the shakes.

Now let’s learn a bit about The Eye and the Arm, book two in the Champion of the Gods series.

After defeating Meglar at Belsport, Farrell returns to Haven to recover from his injuries, but Khron, the god of war, has other ideas. He gives Farrell a new tEatA art 200mission: free the survivors of the ancient dwarf realm of Trellham from their three-thousand-year banishment. To fulfill Khron’s near impossible task, Farrell will need the help of his distance ancestor, the legendary wizard Kel. But Kel has been dead for a thousand years.

Farrell finds information hinting that Kel is alive, so he moves his search to Dumbarten, Kel’s birthplace. To reach Dumbarten unannounced, Farrell and Miceral disguise themselves as mercenaries on board a merchant vessel. Their journey is disrupted when pirates attack their ship. While attempting to subdue the attack, Farrell is struck down by one of Meglar’s minions.

Unconscious and trapped in his own mind, Farrell’s only chance for survival rests with Miceral and the peregrine king Rothdin entering his thoughts and helping him sort fact from illusion. To reach Farrell, they will need to rely on an untested spell from one of Kel’s spellbooks. If they succeed, Miceral can guide Farrell home safely. If not, Farrell will destroy not only himself, but Miceral, Rothdin, and everyone around him.

Video Trailer


“Relax, my friend.” Klissmor’s presence calmed Miceral’s growing anxiety. “You won’t feel my presence.”

Miceral took a deep breath. “Will I be able to hear?”

“Every word. Ready?”

“No, but let’s do it.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I need your eyes open for everyone to see.”

He snapped his lids open, blinking several times before could focus again. “Sorry.”

“Master Teberus.” Miceral knew the words came from him, but as promised, he didn’t feel anything. “I have Masters Erstad and Wesfazial as well as Wizard-Priestess Glendora. Ask your questions to Miceral and we four will also hear you.”

“Astounding.” The elder Arlefor glanced at the high priestess. “All four at once?”

“Wizard.” Miceral had heard that tone enough to know Klissmor’s mood. “Maintaining this link, this far away with this many minds, is a strain. If we are to save Farrell, you must focus on him.”

“Of course. My apologies.” Teberus bowed deeply. “My examination of the one who did this to Farrell confirmed that he is no wizard.”

“Then how in the eight gates of Neblor did that man defeat Farrell?” Even though Teberus couldn’t know, Miceral recognized the voice as Wesfazial’s.

“The obvious answer is the correct one. A wizard gave this man the weapon.”

“But Farrell could defeat all four of us and all the other wizards you brought with you and not be tested.” Erstad’s steady temperament sounded tested. “No weapon used by a nonwizard should be capable of this.”

Teberus raised the crest of his hairless eyebrow. “But since that is what happened, we must use it as the basis of our search for a cure.”

No one answered. As the silence dragged on, Miceral’s anxiety slowly returned. If Haven’s senior wizards didn’t know what to do, who could?

“Tell us what happened.” Erstad’s request almost didn’t register with Miceral.

“No,” Klissmor said. “Show them. Let them see the memory.”

Miceral closed his eyes and focused on reliving the attack. The clarity of the image caused his chest to tighten, making it hard to breathe. He knew the result, but watching it again, almost in slow motion, added to his agony.

When the image played over again, he realized Klissmor must have been guiding his thoughts.

“My apologies, old friend—the need is great.” Klissmor’s voice didn’t interrupt the stream of images.

“Do whatever you need. Just find a way to save Farrell.”

“Your friends are doing all they can. Have faith that Lenore will send us what we need.”

When the memory started for the third time, he didn’t find any comfort in Klissmor’s assertion. The Six wouldn’t—couldn’t—help. He needed something that didn’t exist—a great wizard like Heminaltose or Kel.

“In theory, I recognize the magic.” Erstad sounded confused. “But I’ll need to find a reference to be sure.”

“What about Farrell?” He knew he shouted, or at least what Farrell told him passed for shouting, but he couldn’t prevent it. “He could be dead before you find that.”

“It can’t be helped, Miceral. I need to be sure before I suggest a counterspell. If I’m wrong, whatever I try might kill him.”

“He is in no immediate danger.” Teberus put his hand on Farrell’s forehead. “But my fear is the number of spells that draw on him for power. I can only give him but so much. If he doesn’t wake, his body will burn out.”

“Do what you can, Master Teberus. We’ll begin searching immediately and contact you when we find the answer.” When Erstad stopped speaking, Klissmor’s presence left with him.

“Hurry. Please.” Miceral knew no one heard him.

You can find The Eye and the Arm at the following links:

DSP Publications


Amazon UK

ARe Omnilit

And now the giveaway!

FIVE Winners will win one e-copy of ANY book* each from DSP Publication’s backlist. Follow the Rafflecopter link below.

*Giveaway is of any currently released DSPP book, which excludes the books that are on pre-order and The Eye and the Arm.


Want to drop the author a line? Follow a link below:

The Land of Make Believe

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So last night…

Date: Monday, April 6, 2015

Time:  1:30 a.m.

Mission: watch a movie

Snack: four slices of pepperoni pizza with extra cheese; eight ounces of deeply chocolate milk

Options: Penguins of Madagascar, starring John Malcovich, Tom McGrath, and Benedict Cumberbatch (who I identified when he tried to say penguins).

St. Vincent, starring Bill Murray and Melissa McCarthy

Interstellar, starring Matthew McConaughey and Anne Hathaway

The Theory of Everything, starring Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones

The Imitation Game, starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Keira Knightley, and a number of other hot Brits

Night at the Museum Tomb: Secret of the Tomb, starring Ben Stiller, Robin Williams, and a number of funny folk

Horrible Bosses 2, starring Jason Bateman, Jason Sudeikis, Charlie Day, Chris Pine, Christoph Waltz, and Jamie Foxx

Into the Woods, starring Meryl Streep and some others.

The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies, starring Martin Freeman, Ian McKellen, and again, Cumberbatch

Time Limit: no more than two hours (I needed to sleep at some point, and you can see at least two were immediately eliminated)

Research: read reviews on Amazon and Rotten Tomatoes, and pondered for half an hour if I wanted to laugh, think, or feel.

Decision: Penguins of Madagascar!

Results: Laughed my ass off and got my Cumberbatch fix.

Checking in

Hello, everyone!

I hope life is treating you well and fairly. I’ve been busy writing, editing, reading, and other miscellaneous activities, but nothing like sky diving or anything. Does sleep count as an activity?

Anyway, I have a novel coming out later this year. It’s the sequel to my novella Good Question; Ya know, Lonnie and Jamison are still at it. The novel is called The Answer Is, and I must have been so tickled by selling the manuscript in January that I blacked out and forgot to mention it. Sorry.

It’s in the early stages of the editing process, but the novel is scheduled for release in June!

In the meantime, I shall continue writing and editing and reading, oh my!

Holiday weird

scroogeI am not a holiday person. Not quite Scrooge, but definitely not Buddy the Elf either. Somewhere in between lies me. I normally avoid Christmas music. I understand, but resent, HGTV and DIY Network focusing on holiday decorating instead of just showing a marathon of Rehab Addict or Rescue My Renovation. I will be sending out holiday cards, however, just so folks know I’m thinking of them and wishing them well.

excited BuddyNow I’ve been ill the past few days: fever, chills, shivering, headache—you get the idea, the unwelcome and the usual. During this illness a few weird things happened that I’d like to share.

First, I turned 51 on Monday, which isn’t weird and was actually great. But I was so sick the other night that I was too weak to find the TV remote and turn away from that Rockefeller Center thingy NBC does where they light the massive-ass Christmas tree. You know, they have the Rockettes and celebrities singing live, so I saw Mariah Carey fighting with her ear plug and her clothes, and for some reason Seth McFarlane was singing—thought I was hallucinating that one—apparently the guy has an album out. Giggity giggity goo.

I have never, NEVER watched this event (hence the reference to my age), but, I enjoyed it. I found myself smiling and singing along and laughing and what the fuck?! And when they lit that tree, it was breathtaking, and I had little breath to take at that point.

Second, singing along to some of those songs reminded me of years ago attending some office party. I was living in Oregon. I sat with my supervisor and several other coworkers. We chatted and lamented the poor choice of salmon as a vegetarian option for folks who didn’t eat meat. They didn’t want to make a fuss, and I’m a carnivore but felt outraged for them. I’m good at that. Anyway, as everyone but me got up to mingle, I smiled and waved and chatted with folks who came to me—mobility issues even then.

Suddenly this older gentleman I didn’t know came and sat directly across from me. I think we introduced ourselves, but the way he kept staring at me kind of weirded me out. Then he began singing! To me! At first I was unnerved and uncertain, but his voice was so rich and deep, I began to smile. He sang “White Christmas” to me, I think. I was touched. It made me feel special. I suppose I remember the impressions and feelings of that night more than anything else. Thanks, mister.

Third, this will be our first Christmas without our mom. We lost her in February. When we were kids we’d help decorate by tossing tinsel on a real tree and placing bulbs on the limbs we could reach. Being the smaller beings in the house, we were best suited to scramble beneath the branches to reach the stand to fill it with water. I loved the smell, the lights, the bright wrapping paper. But, as is often the case, once I became an adult, assembling the tree and decorating it became a chore. And I remember years of grumbling whenever Mom got that look in her eye: time to put the tree up! But in the last decade I spent with her, I began just doing it because it made her happy, and hell, why not?

Having said that, I’m still me—not Scrooge and not Buddy. Despite enjoying How Murray Saved Christmas the other night, despite giggling and smiling like an idiot when I see that Starbucks commercial with Carlton dancing, despite Elf becoming my all-time favorite holiday movie, I will not be putting up and decorating a Christmas tree. I’m not decorating jack!

I will, however, do something Mom always wanted but rarely got around to doing: give to folks who need it. Extra money was hard to come by for all of us, but Mom gave when she could. Doesn’t every town do that, put together a list of families who need items, clothing, or toys for Christmas? I’ll give what I can to Paralyzed Veterans of America or the Huntington City Mission or Little Victories, or to any one of these groups in my area: Holiday Charities.

I’ve made sure to give to the Trevor Project and CrowdRise’s campaign to help people suffering with HIV/AIDS, while at the same time sending a lump of coal to Pastor Steven Anderson of Tempe’s Faithful Word Baptist Church for being “naughty,” although my word is not so charitable. Ha-ha! See what I did there?

So even if Mom’s decorating ideas didn’t take hold of me, her loving and giving spirit did.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, ya know, whatever. Have a good one, people!


We have a winner!

Carolyn is the winner of autographed copies of my novels Right On Time and Button Down, and the Hot Off the Press anthology, which includes my short story “McAvoy Made” along with fifteen other delightful stories by a variety of authors.


Congratulations, Carolyn, and thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a comment on my Birthday Giveaway post.

I’m thrilled to be able to share my happy day with you and that I have books to offer. Being published is a dream come true.

I’ll be spending my birthday writing, editing, and reading (not necessarily in that order).

Have a great week, people!

*heading off to find birthday cake*

Birthday giveaway

A week from today I’ll be holding a drawing to give away autographed paperback copies of the Hot Off the Press collection (that’s work by sixteen authors, including my short story “McAvoy Made”) and my novels Button Down and Right on Time. That’s three paperback books!

Hot Off the Press: Words hold the power to hurt as well as heal, and choosing them is a complicated and delicate process. No one knows this better than the men who work with them every day. Authors, reporters, reviewers, and publishers struggle to balance truth, art, long hours, and stressful jobs. Whether they’re trying to write a novel or advance a career, it can leave little time for love. The men in this anthology are seeking romance on and off the job, in print and online, against backdrops of fact, fiction, and even fantasy. Their tales are different but have one thing in common—there’s a happy ending waiting on the last page.

Find excerpt here.

Right on Time: Throughout his life, successful artist Barnaby Rosenthal has been rescued repeatedly by his one constant, Charleston Meeks. But it’s been seven tumultuous years since he’s last seen the temporal agent outside of his dreams and paintings.
Recently retired from his father’s Restore Point Program, Charleston’s ready to approach Barnaby in their present year of 2020 and discover if the two of them can build a future on their harried past.
Standing between them is a conservative senator determined to erase the people saved by the RPP, and much of her rage is focused on Barnaby. For the senator, time travel goes against God’s plan, so with the help of her hired guns, she intends to correct the program’s meddling by any means necessary.
For the first time, Charleston may not be there to save Barnaby.

Find excerpt here.

Button Down: When he finds himself captivated by a movie-star handsome stranger he meets in a bar, lawyer Ford Reilly watches a simple one-night stand develop into a taste of what living honestly might bring him.
Out and proud Gus Hansen has built a small architectural firm from nothing, but could lose it all as he tries to break a contract he signed before knowing about the project’s antigay ties.
After Ford discovers he spent a passionate night with the man on the other side of the dispute he’s handling, he finds himself in more than one quandary. He can either maintain the status quo, enforcing the contract to the letter, or he can defy his overbearing father and break free of the closeted life he’s built for himself in order to be with Gus.
Gus has his own choices to make. He knows the sting of loving a man who hides himself, but the longer he lingers in Ford’s presence, the more difficult it becomes to deny their attraction. 

Find excerpt here.

To enter all you have to do is leave a comment on this blog post. Deadline is Sunday, Nov. 30, midnight. I’ll draw the winner’s name on Dec. 1, my birthday! Hooray for me and the winner, whoever that ends up being.

Best of luck, people!