All About Eaves

“Goosebumps still lazy from their afternoon in bed tumbled down his spine, pooling into the crease of his ass. It made Sam want to bend over, offer his body right back to the man who already held his war-weary heart.” (Writhe, page 124)

 

Writing a Sunday evening blog in the middle of Memorial Day Weekend is a little like preaching to an empty church. The thought’s darn good but the resulting silence is just damned discouraging.

Yet, I will persist like the true glutton for punishment I am.

However, I will keep this brief. I wouldn’t want any hot dogs going cold and droopy because of me. You can thank me for this grand gesture by visiting your favorite ebook provider Tuesday and putting a little Writhe in your basket… 

*the lone church mouse in the eaves shouts “You’ve got it, man!”*

Despite my big words this morning, I didn’t do a scrap of writing during the Indy 500, a race in which Kurt Busch (NASCAR guy) finished 6^th!!

*”Busch! Busch! Busch!” the chants from the lone mouse echo through the cavernous church*

Before the rodent starts wearing pants and asking for a contract from Disney, I’ll leave you to your Sunday. Have a fantastic one, guys!

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Lost to the Sand-Weevils of Time

“Brevyn Steed.

Just the sound of his name sent something hot and melty pull- ing at Sam’s heart. It tinted everything a warm umber, casting all in an imaginary candlelight. Reluctantly, Sam closed his eyes. He didn’t trust this thing between them, didn’t trust its staying power past this one current breath.” (Writhe, page 120)

 

Today is indeed brighter.

The panic which had been frothing up from its poorly buried depths yesterday has calmed to nothing more than an occasional murmur of ill-content.

I can handle a murmur.

Writing will be a matter of my spiriting the boring stretches of car races into something fruitful, or at least trying to.

Both the Indianapolis 500 and the Coca-Cola 600 will be taking up huge stretches of my attention today. Luckily, racing is a sport ideal for accompanying writing jags. (This might be one of those Chloe-things not applicable to any other human being on the face of the planet, but I share it nonetheless.)

It’s funny but I’m having to dig up from memory how to promote a release day. All the little tricks, all those juicy nooks of the web where a post announcing the arrival of a book on market truly gets noticed I’m having to scrounge up from my still-with-a-uterus days of 17 months ago.

I can’t believe it’s been that long since I’ve had anything published.

Wow.

I took last year off from the m/m romance market. After my hysterectomy I wanted to take time to enjoy a life without deadlines every three months, without word quotas, without the hurry-up-and-wait of the writing world. So I did.

Of course, I could hardly give up writing. It is my passion after all. Other projects such as The Sun and the Sand Cat f/m romance thriller off at a literary agent’s office right now filled last year. So it was definitely time well spent.

But…

Seventeen months is a long time.

I just hope the m/m bandwagon still has room for Chloe Stowe.

Until tonight…

Chloe