Headphones was an experiment, a story written in "snapshots", a serial, a comic in word form-- call it what you will. It ran for one year plus one day-- January 1st of 2015 to January 1st of 2016. It was the story of a group of friends who took in a damaged girl and helped her find herself. But on the way, she helped them fill the holes in their own lives. I've pulled it now with the hopes of rewriting it into a book. Each day was matched with a music video and each month's mixes are still here. So if you've stumbled in, enjoy the music, and hopefully I'll be able to post updates occasionally!


Monday, July 2, 2018

July Camp NaNo


This WIP is killing me. I suppose 5 years ago when I started this journey, I would have been thrilled to write a novel in 4 months. Now? Not so much. I have to remind myself that I really am limited on time and I did stop to write a short story in the middle of all of this. But I've stalled...terribly. I can't seem to just write the story. I write and then I edit. Hell, I'm editing as I write. I started this novel as my April Camp project (totally expecting to finish it in May, and when that didn't happen, in June) and I'm determined to finish it by the end of July. I did manage almost 2000 words over the weekend, bringing me to over 35500, and I finally got past the scene that's been killing me for two weeks. Fingers crossed, it's going to go more smoothly now!

Excerpt from Chapter 12:

“Did you have fun with my cousin Jenny?”
The words vibrated against Jeb’s lips but made no sense to his lust-addled brain. Everything in the world centered around the taste of Ian’s mouth. Garlic and cake and champagne. It really should have been disgusting, but there was a strange sweet/salty hint to it. Besides, his attention was solely on the man who’d pinned him against the wall with his body the second they’d stepped into the privacy of the hotel room. Jeb hadn’t even had a chance to look around. “Who’s Jenny?” he finally managed.
“The bridesmaid you were dancing with. She caught the bouquet, you know.”
“So?”
 “She wants to have your babies.”
Jeb laughed and pushed Ian away. “I don’t think so!”
“Hm, yes. I could see it in her eyes. All star-glowy. She’s probably downstairs planning your wedding. What did you tell her when you left her there? That you needed to use the gents? I bet she’s still waiting, thinking about baby names, hoping that you’re in the lobby booking a room for the night. How long do you think she’ll wait?”

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Next Steps

     Cut Shot is still moving much too slow but I'll keep at it and (eventually) it'll get done. I'm beginning to understand what other authors mean, though, when they talk about all the other things involved with writing and publishing getting in the way of actual writing. That's a big part of the delay on getting to "the end" with this current WIP.

     It's all good stuff, really, but time-consuming. I entered Embers and Flame into a query contest and made it into the first round. I didn't make it to the second, but I got some positive comments and constructive criticism, so I'm happy with it. It would have been nice to make it through another round or two, but at the same time I found myself obsessively checking the site, so maybe it's a good thing!

    My short story, Cocky Lady, is included in the Cocky Cockers anthology coming out in a couple of weeks. Pre-orders are being taken now. It's my first thing published since I started writing again. I'm back and forth between being excited and wondering what the hell it is I think I'm doing!


     And last by not least, I finally got a website set up. Not much to it yet, but maybe within the next year I'll be able to add things of interest! Check it out here if you're interested!


Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Bio Blurb

Playing with a bio blurb. This is what I came up with:

Sadie Jay grew up amongst the Illinois cornfields but instead of wandering the rows of cornstalks, she wandered the library’s book stacks. She majored in psychology even as she dreamed of being a writer. For a couple dozen years, her family and an ever-revolving mini-zoo kept her occupied.

Instead of a shiny mid-life-crisis car, Sadie discovered fandom in her late 40s and, better yet, fanfiction. She wrote her first m/m short when she was 48, and soon turned that into full-length novels. The discovery of supportive writers’ groups online sealed the deal and she’s been writing ever since.

Now a grocery pimp by day and a writer of relationships by night, Sadie gives her gay and bi men all the angst, but they also always get their well-deserved happy ending! 

Monday, May 21, 2018

First Goal Met!


Finally! I made it to 20K on Cut Shot! Not sure why 20K is a milestone for me, but once I hit that mark, I feel like the story has a solid foundation, that now I just need to work towards the end. Even though it's not the half-way point, it's set enough that I know what I'm working with and I what I need to continue. Which doesn't mean that the story I have outlined in my head won't change a dozen times before I type the last sentence!
I'm really not too sure why this book is taking so long. I know that part of it was vacation, as I'd mentioned before. But I think part was just getting back into "creative mode". Between editing Embers and Flame and Blind Anti, and then going straight to the Headphones rewrites, there was too long of a gap--a good six months, I think. I'm not letting that happen again.  
But...I took a week-long break to write a short story to submit for an anthology. It came together easily and I had fun writing it. It felt like getting my mojo back! I'll post here if it gets accepted. 
So, then, back to Jeb and Ian. This week went well, or at least better. Like I said, I made my goal for the week and introduced Mitch. His physical presence in the book is only going to be for a chapter or two. Because he's the cornerstone of why Jeb acts the way he does, I felt it was important to introduce him to the readers, let him be more than Jeb's flashbacks or dreams. I'd momentarily considered him hanging around and causing all kinds of problems, but in the end, it doesn't seem necessary, and it not really where I want the story to go. So, without further ado, meet Mitch:

Excerpt from Chapter 8:

“Hey, babe, you’re looking good.”
The words whispered into his ear gave Jeb chills, and not in a good way. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten that Mitch would be here, but he’d been so preoccupied with seeing Ian that he’d not prepared himself for being in the same room as the man. And yet there he was, standing behind him, over him, brushing up against him. It was a casual gesture, one that wouldn’t warrant a second look from anyone else in the room, but a cold wash ran down Jeb’s back. There was a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach and his mouth went dry. The world narrowed down, blurring around him.
The spell was broken when Mitch stepped back a half-step and Jeb was able to pull oxygen into his lungs again. He turned to face his first lover, studying him from head to toe. He hadn’t changed much. He was a little thicker in the waist but his tall frame handled the extra weight well. His former light-blond hair was white but it looked more like salon-white than natural aging-white. There were a few lines around his icy-blue eyes, but that same cocky expression twisted his lips in an arrogant smile, the kind that said he knew he was good looking and expected those around him to notice. He truly was extraordinary.
And he made Jeb’s blood run cold. 

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

Checking In

I haven't updated for awhile. The April Camp NaNo didn't end so well--I barely made it over 10K for the month. I had hoped, even with vacation, that I could do twice that, but Cut Shot is giving me a little trouble. I see the story in my head, but it's not hitting the page very quickly. But I'll keep working on it. I think with planning vacation, being on vacation, and then simply dealing with everything when we got back cut into my time. It seems I've been working in15-minute segments for the entire month. It's definitely been a paragraph by paragraph book so far!

Still, there are some things I like about it. My boys are starting to take on more personality in my head and hopefully I'll be able to get that where it needs to go. Ian, especially. Since Jeb came from another story, I knew him a little better. But I'm finally getting to know Ian!

First draft exerpt from Chapter 5:


Ian couldn’t decide if he was uncomfortable or amused, but ever since Jeb’s comment about the patients flirting with him, he’d become hyper-aware of the subtle comments and looks that was thrown his way. But, as it turned out, Jeb hadn’t taken the thought far enough--it wasn’t just young married women and middle aged widows. Over the last three days there’d been half-a-dozen men he’d made eye-contact with as he filled a tooth or fixed a broken crown and found an open invitation being silently offered with the lift of an eyebrow. There had even been one man who had unfolding his hands from where they lay across his lap, a brief show-and-tell of his tented slacks and a quick uplift of his hip. And then a lingering handshake as he thanked Ian before he left, and God, he only hoped his assistant hadn’t noticed any of it.
Maybe Jeb was right; maybe being so open hadn’t been the best thing to do, although not for the reasons that he meant. He hadn’t come here hoping for a relationship or even a quick hookup; Ian simply didn’t want to live as less than himself. He didn’t really care what people thought. Jeb feared prejudice, but that wasn’t something Ian had grown up with and it was possibly so far out of his experience that he’d never really considered it. And yet, he began to feel like he was being treated as a novelty item, something new and shiny, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of his openness or simply because he was new and shiny to the local citizens, the slick new dentist to discuss and gossip about over coffee. Give it another month, he supposed, and he’d be old news, replaced by some local scandal.
But each time he got a flirty look or some woman tried to make a dick joke, something perceived as slightly naughty when saying it to a man (“but he’s gay, so it’s safe to say it”), each and every incident, brought Jeb to the forefront of his thoughts. He couldn’t get Monday evening out of his head. He replayed the way Jeb had taken control over and over, wondering where it would have gone to if they hadn’t been interrupted. In his dreams, there was no headlights or ringing phone. There was heat and panted breaths and a wall or a bed against his back instead of hard metal. He’d wake, sometimes slowly, sometimes with a sudden jerk, but always with an image of Jeb looming over him and an ache at the crux of his thighs.