I’m in shock. I just heard from an editor that M/M author, Carol McKenzie, lost her battle to lung cancer. I was a fan of her work, and I knew her through one of my yahoo writers groups, with loveyoudivine.com.
When Carol first mentioned she had cancer, I told her to e-mail me privately if she needed any support. I’ve been through cancer with family and friends, and I’ve seen enough to know how to offer basic support. I was hoping she’d pull through, even though I hadn’t heard anything for a while. I thought she had a good chance. Evidently, I was wrong.
Here’s an excerpt from an e-mail sent out by the publisher of Loveyoudivine.com:
Carol is, and I suspect will remain, one of the most successful ebook authors of all time.
I know that a lot of people who read my blog are aspiring writers. People of all ages. I get e-mails all the time with questions about publishing and how to get an agent. So this post is for everyone who stops by here and has written something. It’s from Janet Reid’s agent blog, and I think it’s one of the best blog posts, for all writers, I’ve ever read.
If you’ve ever been frustrated about writing or getting published, please take the time to read this. I guarantee it will make you feel better.
I just saw that THE GHOST AND MR. MOORE was released on ravenousromance.com today. I did a preview post for the book, and today I’m linking and adding the back cover copy. As I said in the preview post, there are a couple of interesting Halloween scenes in this one that take place in Provincetown, MA. And Halloween in P’town is a lot of fun, trust me.
When a famous child actor, Dexter Moore, leaves Hollywood and moves to Provincetown, MA, with his daughter and his longtime housekeeper, he doesn’t expect to find that his new house is haunted. And especially not with the ghost of a strong, virile young sea captain who looks like Hugh Jackman and makes love like no other living man Dexter has known.
But Dexter must deal with more important things than ghosts. He soon discovers that his ex-partner lost all his money in a bad investment and Dexter is forced to go back to work. So he reluctantly agrees to do an intrusive TV show, where he is followed with cameras for three months. If he doesn’t, he’ll have to sell his magnificent new home and move back to Hollywood.
In order to make the TV show more interesting, Dexter’s new best friend gets him involved in a heated town dispute. The new president of the chamber of commerce wants to cancel a town tradition and start something new, and half the town is against him. But Dexter doesn’t get involved with this for the TV show or ratings. He’s only interested in helping people and saving an important fundraiser from being canceled.
While all this is happening, Dexter slowly gets to know the ghost of handsome Captain Lang. He’s the only one who can see and hear Lang. They make passionate love together, they spend long hours talking about Dexter’s strong feelings, and they start working on a series of books about Captain Lang’s notorious adventures at sea that will ensure Dexter’s financial future. But when the books are finished and the two men finally admit they are in love, how will they reconcile their feelings with reality?
This is a rare for me to do. But I received permission from the editor, Shane Allison, and decided to post a short excerpt from a book galley. It’s an excerpt from my story, “Off Campus, Man,” in a not yet released collection of short stories from Cleis Press, titled, COLLEGE BOYS.
off-campus, man 169
Harlan LaRochelle was an attractive young man with a plan
of his own. He didn’t want to go to Morehouse College in
Atlanta like his father and two older brothers. He’d applied to
Morehouse to appease them, but then he’d secretly applied to a
large university in Washington, DC.
A few months later, his father smiled and patted his back
when he’d been accepted to Morehouse; his mother hugged him
and cooked his favorite dinner. But when Harlan announced
during that same dinner that he was going to the large university
in Washington instead, his father dropped his fork so fast
he chipped a dinner plate. The mother clutched her napkin and
gave him a look.
Harlan looked his father in the eye without blinking. “I’m
going to college in Washington, DC,” he said. “I’ve been accepted
already. They have an excellent journalism program there.”
All this was true. They did have an excellent journalism
department at the Washington school. But the real reason he
didn’t want to go to Morehouse College was because the thought
of spending four more years without knowing what it was like
to kiss another man caused his stomach to turn and his knees to
twitch. He needed distance from his prominent Atlanta family.
And he needed to explore his sexuality as much as he needed
to study. He was a smart young man, with soft brown skin, a
nice firm, round ass, and square, firm chest muscles. He already
knew that women were attracted to him, but he wanted to find
out if men were interested in him, too.
A few months after that, at the end of August, when the
shouting and mean stares finally subsided, he kissed both
parents good-bye, started his black SUV, and drove north to
The first few weeks he concentrated on getting settled in the
dorms and focusing on his school work. His roommate was a
tall, thin techie type who spent most of his time with his face
glued to a computer screen. Harlan liked most of his classes and
he made a few casual friends. And everywhere he went he saw
good-looking young men. When he passed them by on his way
to class, his penis jumped and he had to stare down at his shoes
so he wouldn’t get a full erection. But he wasn’t sure what to do,
or how to approach any of them.
And then one Saturday afternoon in mid-September everything
changed. He was on his way back to his room when he
accidentally bumped into a guy wearing shiny red running
shorts and an oversized black sweat shirt in the dormitory
lobby. The guy had long, wavy, dark blond hair, was average
height, and hadn’t shaved in about two days. His pale blue eyes
were the color of Harlan’s birthstone, aquamarine. Harlan had
been looking for his keys in his backpack and hadn’t seen him
coming. He’d bumped his elbow and had knocked all his books
to the floor.
But this weekend my nephews thought it would be funny to put Halloween costumes on the dogs. The one on the left without a costume is mine, the one dressed as a leprechaun is my mother’s dog, Emma. And if you knew Emma, you’d know how much she hates this sort of thing. She is the female version of “Marley,” in the book and movie, “Marley and Me,” and there’s nothing dainty or delicate about her.