What a week it’s been!!
Spencer Two is out in the world and the reviews have been incredibly amazing. <3 Everyone seems to love Spencer and Andrew more now than they did after Book One, which is a lovely compliment.
Unfortunately, I spent release day and the three days that followed in bed sick with some kind of stomach bug. *insert audio of crowd booing* It was pretty disastrous, I have to admit, and none too glamorous. Seriously, it wasn’t good.
And I’d like to extend a HUGE thank you to every single person who bought, borrowed, read and reviewed Spencer Two. Spencer and Andrew were a joy to write, and I’m so thrilled that everyone loves them as much as I do.
And to every single person who retweeted, reposted, pimped, liked and commented for me when I was in bed with my head in a bucket (nice, huh? lol) Your support and love means the world to me. I appreciate you all, more than you can possibly know.
And I sincerely apologise if I missed any notifications or comments, posts or messages. If I haven’t returned any emails or messages, please send them again.
And for those that liked my Spencer Cohen Soundtrack playlist on Spotify, I’ve done another one for Book Two. You can find the new one HERE
This coming week is busier than normal. I’m not quite sure how my life can get any damn busier, but as always, when I think I’ve reached breaking point, Life screams CHALLENGE ACCEPTED and ups the ante. *long suffering sigh* I have a little thing such as a 40th birthday (which might actually be today but don’t tell anyone LOL) and then I’m taking the kids away for a tennis tournament for five days. So, for the next week, I’ll be largely uncontactable. Again, if I miss anything, I apologise in advance. And if I still haven’t gotten back to you in a few days after I return, please send me a quick reminder via email.
I’m not sure when I’m supposed to get any work done in this time… Blood & Milk is at 40K words and I’m guessing there could be 20K words to go, or another 40K, I just don’t know… The characters are just wonderful, and I will post more on them after Spencer 3.
As I’ll be away, I’m hoping I will still get a chance to post next week, but if not, I’ll see you all on the other side of Easter.
Until then… Stay beautiful. <3
It’s release week for Spencer Cohen Book Two!! I can not wait for you all to see what he and Andrew have been up to! 😉
The preorder link is HERE! And it should be live on the 17th, exclusive to Amazon!
And an excerpt!
“Can today involve a nap?” I asked in the car on our way to his place.
“Are you five?”
I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Last night is catching up with me.”
“Or are you just trying to get me back into bed?”
“Possibly. Do you always answer every question with a question?”
He grinned. “Possibly.”
“I really am sorry about last night. I actually don’t drink that often,” I told him. “Which is why I was so wrecked.”
“It’s okay Spencer,” he said, looking from the road to me. He smiled. “Emilio told me that you’re not a real drinker. Maybe a few beers now and then, but not normally hard liquor.” He laughed a bit. “I think they were worried I’d think less of you. They were all so busy telling me what a good guy you are.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t ask them to do that.”
“Yes, I know. They were worried about you.”
I sighed. “I owe them a pretty big thank you. Dinner or something.”
“They also told me you’d been different with me from day one,” he said, just all casual-like. There was a hint of humour in his eyes.
“They did, huh?”
“Yep. Said you were all ridiculous smiles whenever you mentioned my name.”
“Right, then. Well, I’m taking back the offer to buy them dinner.”
He laughed. “So it’s true?”
“My answer depends on whether you agree to a nap this afternoon.”
He laughed. “I take it that’s a yes.”
I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I told you already you were different. But I object to the term ridiculous smiles.”
He was still smirking when he parked his car near his apartment. I grabbed my bag of laundry from the backseat and followed him inside. “I don’t know, Spencer,” he said, putting his keys and wallet on the hallstand. His voice was quieter, more serious. “I happened to like hearing that you thought I was special from day one. When they told me, Lola laughed and said my smile matched your ridiculous one. So we’re probably even.”
I stood there, holding my bag of laundry, not sure what to do with it. I was suddenly nervous. Here we were, alone at his place. I mean, we’d been alone all morning, but this was somehow different. It was like we were one breath away from going at it like rabbits, or he was about to tell me he’d changed his mind. “Well, that’s good then. We can be ridiculous together.”
He studied me for a long moment before walking slowly over to stand in front of me. He put his hand on my laundry bag, where I was clutching it tightly. His fingers touched mine, and warmth shot up my arm causing the butterflies in my stomach to take flight, and he stared into my eyes. I licked my lips, wanting to kiss him, and he leaned in just a fraction, but stopped short of contact. “I’ll take that for you,” he said gruffly and pulled the bag out of my hand. He took a step back and my breath left me in a rush.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, not really meaning to say the word out loud. “Are you trying to kill me?”
He grinned. “Just checking it wasn’t some kind of fluke before.”
“A fluke? What fluke? That I find you insanely hot or that you make my stupid brain malfunction?”
He laughed quietly. “Maybe both.”
“Well, you could have just asked me,” I said, adjusting my now aching—thanks to him—dick.
He watched my hand on my crotch, and his nostrils flared, a rush of pink crept down his neck. His voice cracked when he said, “We better start this laundry.”
He turned and walked down the hall past the bathroom, to what I assumed was the laundry, so I followed. He upended the bag, the contents spilling onto the tiled floor.
“Here, I can do that,” I told him. “I don’t expect you or anyone else to do my washing.” I picked up a shirt and moved it to one side and shoved the sheets to the other side. And as I sorted the dark and light coloured clothes, I could feel him watching me. I looked up and smiled. “What?”
“You sort laundry,” he said quietly.
“Of course I do. By colour and then fabric.”
A slow smile spread across his face, and he bit his lip.
“Do you have a laundry kink I don’t know about?” I asked.
He laughed. “Uh no. It’s just that I always sort that way too, colour then by types of fabric. Eli never did, and it used to drive me insane.” He shrugged. “I like that you do.”
“Um, if you like it, then I’m pretty sure it falls in the kink category.”
He laughed, a low warm sound, before collecting the sheets off the floor and throwing them in the washing machine. He added powder and set it going, which left us standing close together with nothing between us, and suddenly the air was electric in the small room. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, the heat in his eyes.
There was a chemistry between us that I’d never felt with anyone else. And before my brain could catch up, I slid my hand along his jaw and drew his mouth to mine.
Oh, and in case you missed my announcement on Facebook yesterday, I am very excited (and anxious and and nauseous and terrified) to announce that I will be attending GRL this year as a Featured Author!!! I’ll post more on that later…
Until next week! <3
The good thing about me doing these Good Morning Monday posts, is that it’s making me post stuff. I’m pretty sure I never would otherwise – I’m the world’s slackest blogger. Well, that and, in my opinion, I’m profoundly boring. But that being said, another week is done!
I don’t know how I got through last week, but I did. I don’t know how I will get through next week, but I’m sure I will. Some days I’m so swamped I can barely breathe, and other days I could conquer the world. But mostly, some days I just want to peace out, kill the internet, and spend the day in bed reading, and sleeping, and reading some more.
But alas, there is this little thing called adulting that stops me.
My word count is sooooo slow with my current WiP. As the majority of writers will tell you, there is a crippling self-doubt that we need to beat away with a stick most days. For me, it normally kicks in around the 75% mark of the manuscript – just before the downhill run. But with this book, that self-doubt, the what-the-hell-am-I-doing mindset has been constant. Since the first word of the first chapter, the words have been… cautious.
I do worry that I won’t do the story justice, and I can already hear the negative reviews on the content and characters, and of course, my ability to pull it off. I already know there will be people who won’t want to even read it because of the subject matter.
But that won’t stop me writing it.
I’m reeeeeeally tempted to scrap it and write something easier, but I won’t. Well, not this week. I think. LOL Normally I write about 10-12k words per week, but of late it’s been 8-ish. Which is still okay, but it’s slow. And I’m doubting every word, every scene, every conversation. The research is heavy, the language a huge hurdle.
Some details: The working title of my WiP (so I can stop calling that) is Blood & Milk. It’s the story of an Australian man who is dealing with some horrible events in his past and with a leap of faith, and not much else, boards a plane and finds himself in Tanzania with the Maasai.
The story itself will deal with some not-pleasant things, and there are HUGE cultural differences which I need to respect. Some of which I’m pretty certain readers won’t like.
I’m giving myself longer than normal to write it – until the end of April to be exact. I have no clue how long it will be. I am at 22K right now and I’ve barely scratched the surface of these characters. Though I’m guessing it will be around 60K all up, though it could be more.
I think there are some valid reasons why Blood & Milk has been slow to write for me. And maybe I should leave it for now and come back to it when things in my RL slow down… though I’m beginning to think this pace is my life for the next few years. I’m so damn busy these days, I swear I can barely remember my own name.
But then I remind myself that I’m a professional writer, and that I need to pull on some big girl panties and just do my fucking job. And I love my job. I have the best job in the world – I create words and worlds, characters and love. There are stories to tell, and I will tell them… These boys won’t let me sleep until I give them life with words.
So onwards I trudge, with my big girl panties on, coffee in hand.
Until next week…