Release Day!

This is the kind of blog I like: when an author has a new release and wants to promote it, and all I have to do is run the article. Today I’m featuring J. J. Collins, who shares my love for M/M stories and all things Supernatural. Her first release, Lost and Found, comes out today from Evernight Publishing. Collins writes shorter works than my preferred novella/novel lengths, and if she’s smarter than I am, she’ll write faster.

Lost and Found is a paranormal tale of two shifters, an arrogant alpha wolf and a freewheeling hawk, who come together and learn to rely on each other. There’s sex between two guys in this one. Be warned.

This story had its start over on Shapeshifter Seductions; you can read the original opening here. You can check out the book page at Evernight at this link. Maybe next week I’ll have J. J. do an interview. Take two weeks off in a row. I am evil. And lazy.

Blurb

Injured and driven out of his forest pack, wolf-shifter Declan escapes to the prairies. Here he encounters hawk-shifter Killian. The hawk is snarky and annoying, but he's Declan's only hope for survival. Alpha Declan needs a pack. Solitary Killian doesn't need anyone. The two form a partnership, based on hunting and their unacknowledged mutual loneliness. The relationship quickly deepens into something stronger, maybe something lasting. Then Declan gets the chance to regain control of the wolves. Will he return to the pack he lost, and give up the love he's just found?

Excerpt

 After fish and mice and rabbits, the antelope—proper wolf food, finally—tasted like the venison of the gods. Declan crammed in as much as he could before he even thought about talking. “This is how a wolf pack eats.” He patted his belly contentedly. “How do you like it so far?”

Killian didn’t answer. He couldn’t, with his mouth stuffed with antelope. Declan chuckled and waited him out. Killian chewed hurriedly, gulped, and said, “I’ve never tasted anything like this.”

“Hell, this is nothing. There’s this herb in the woods…the she-wolves know where to find it. You get some of that, some mushrooms, make a sauce from the blood…damn.” He licked the drool from his lips. “Told you I wasn’t a savage.”

“No. No, you most definitely aren’t.” He leaned back against the earthen support of the bluff, where Declan already reclined with his legs stretched out before him. Their kilts made rounded humps over their full bellies.

Not only their bellies, Declan noticed idly. That little bump on Killian’s thigh wasn’t a twig. It wasn’t all that little, either. Declan had romped with wolves who had less, and wolves who had more but few ideas on what to do with their bounty. His own kilt tented as his wolf raised its head in a tentative howl.

“Your she-wolves cook for you, then? Of course they would. You’re the alpha,” Killian answered his own question. “Or does being alpha mean you cook for them?”

“The women do most of the preparation. Those who are good at hunting, hunt. The rest forage. Some have learned how to grow things. I think that’s a good idea. Even when there’s no meat, there’s still something. No, I don’t cook, but I can. I pay attention to everything the she-wolves do with the food. I like to eat, and I like to eat well.” He flashed a hearty grin. “Do you cook? You carry flint.”

“Not often. I just don’t take the time. Too hungry. Bird. High metabolism.” Killian whistled a happy sigh. “Though not just now. I won’t be flying for hours."

Grounded, eh? Good to know. Declan wondered if Killian was aware of how close he was sitting to the wolf. Or how absolutely lovely he looked—full-fed, his lazy smile at last devoid of snark, his nervous energy momentarily calmed. Even the wild ferocity in his eyes had mellowed. Perhaps he might be in the mood for a little after-breakfast fun. Nothing ventured…

Recalling how the man had flinched at even a casual touch, Declan made his move slow and easy. His tentative rub of Killian’s shoulder sparked another flinch, though not a violent one. Killian slanted a wary look at him through hooded eyes but said nothing. More importantly, he didn’t move away.

Emboldened, Declan slid his hand from Killian’s shoulder to the back of his neck. Dammit, he was stiff as rock back there. He rubbed and kneaded until he coaxed a bit of grudging relaxation out of Killian’s muscles. “So tense,” he teased. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask.” He took a risk and leaned in closer. “Do you bite?”

For answer, Killian rested his hand on Declan’s leg. His nails pricked the skin of Declan’s thigh, even through the protection of the kilt. “I’m more of a scratcher. You might want to remember that.”

“Oh, I will. And you’re going to remember this for nights to come.”

Their lips were barely a breath apart. He closed that tiny gap and laid claim to Killian’s mouth.

Killian stiffened but didn’t pull away. Nor did he respond, not at first. Declan nibbled at his lips. Killian seemed to reach a decision and kissed back.

Great gods above and below. Kissing the hawk was like putting his lips to a lightning storm. The man was pure energy, electric and wild, like some primal god of the sky. Desire shot through Declan’s entire body as he drank it in, this fierce font of passion that was Killian. All of a sudden he wanted—no, needed—to climb aboard this feathered whirlwind and ride to its end, all the way to the clouds if need be.

Encouraged by Killian’s reaction, Declan pulled the smaller man into his brawny arms. His hands explored the angular geography of Killian’s narrow body, mapping every wiry inch. That downy not-hair covering extended from his clavicles downward, where it formed a dark, cozy nest for his dick. Similar down coated his arms, his legs, and—oh fuck yeah, his balls. Its enticing softness, contrasted with the rocklike solidity of Killian’s muscles, was driving Declan over the edge.

Most of all, he wanted to ram his mighty wolf into the hawk-shifter’s hole. He had no doubts what he’d find in there: wet heat and a grip like talons. He almost came right then just thinking about it.

True Confessions

It’s another one of those weeks. I don’t have a topic for today. I just typed 600 words about the days when the September premiere of the new TV season actually mattered, then deleted it because it sucked. Now I have nothing to blog about. Although that’s never stopped me before.

To take up space, I’ve decided to bare my soul. I just hope Serena forgives me.

First, background. If you drop in here even sporadically, you’ll have figured out by now that I’m obsessed with the show Supernatural. I’ve got three of the seasons on disk. I watch the reruns on TNT. I read the occasional fanfic. I’m hiding filthy, fan-made (at least I hope they are) pics of the stars on my computer. And I’ve written so many stories “starring” the actors, it’s easier to list the books that don’t have them as characters than it is the ones that do.

In fact, I’ll have another story coming out shortly, under a different name and from a different publisher, but with the same familiar faces. This one’s Destiel. That’s Dean and Castiel getting it on, for those of you unfamiliar with the show. I’ve got a whole series of those planned, if I can get myself to sit at the computer.

All this in spite of—hold on, Serena, here it comes—

Jensen Ackles does nothing for me. Nada. Nothing at all.

I don’t know why. He’s cute. He can act, when given good material. He’s demonstrated a flair for comedy. I’d love to see him in a romcom. I have no doubts he could pull it off. There’s a rumor he was up for the role of Captain America. Bet he could have batted that one out of the park as well.

But a sex symbol? For millions of fangirls worldwide, maybe. Just don’t count me among them.

Here’s my true confession. There was a time when I watched Smallville religiously. If you’re familiar with the 1978 Superman movie, the one with Christopher Reeve, you might agree with this assessment: it’s almost like two separate films. There’s the first part, where Clark’s growing up on the farm, which has its own rhythm and tone. Then he goes to Metropolis and the tone of the movie shifts. Now it’s a superhero comic-book movie. I always wanted to see the movie that went with the first part. Smallville, though a TV show, was that movie.

In Season Four Jensen joined the Smallville cast. He was Lana’s boyfriend. Supposedly he was meant to be in Season Five but he got the Supernatural gig so they had to kill off his character.

I watched every episode of Smallville Season Four. I remember a lot of the stories and some of the scenes. I watched a few minutes of Supernatural when it debuted, and tuned in sporadically until I got hooked by Season Five. I knew Jensen had gone directly from Smallville to his new job, but I didn’t watch the show to see him. In fact, I have no memories whatsoever of Jensen on Smallville.

I know intellectually he was on there. I watched the show. But I can’t remember him at all. Not one scene. It’s like my brain was scrubbed Jensen-free. He made absolutely no impression on me.

About a year or so ago I got Smallville Season Four from the library and binge-watched it. I remembered a lot of the plots clearly. It was a pretty good season, overall. But Jensen? Nope. Still a blank. It could have been any actor filling that space and saying those lines. He was just another piece of set dressing.

To be fair, I was never that into Tom Welling, either, and he was the star of the show. Ditto for William Shatner on Star Trek. Kirk was the designated sex symbol, but not in my opinion. Ten-year-old me was busy lusting after Spock. At least I could remember Shatner being on the show.

I may have been similarly distracted during Smallville as well. At the time I had a serious double crush on Michael Rosenbaum and John Glover (Lex and Lionel Luthor, respectively). They had on-screen presence. They got the good lines and the meaty storylines. Next to them, even Tom Welling risked getting shoved into the background. No wonder Jensen faded from my inner view.

It’s gotten a little better, but not much. Dean Winchester is a far better character than What’shisname on Smallville, but to me Dean’s just the guy standing next to Sam and Castiel. Castiel is the reason I became obsessed with the show. I fell in love with him in two episodes. But then, I’ve always been drawn to the offbeat characters. And tall guys, which explains my Sam fixation.

Maybe that’s Jensen’s problem. He’s a generic pretty boy. Throw a stick at any beach in California and you’ll hit ten of him. He’s finally got a role with some meat on it, which might have made him interesting to me if it wasn’t for Misha and Jared. I'm so busy staring at them, it's easy to forget Jensen's there.

Now, Dean’s interactions with Sam, or his (ahem) relationship with Castiel, those are plot generators. Those are the stories I’ve been writing. And it still hasn’t worked. The one I’m trying to finish right now has Dean and Cas in it. Dean is presented as the ultimate sex partner. The character who threatened to take over the story? Crowley. I seriously need to rethink my priorities.

Aw, It's AU

I'm liable to get crucified for this, but I'm going to say it anyway: I just don't get some fan fiction.

Before you start hefting that brick, let me clarify. I love to read fanfic. Those Star Trek and Star Wars novels glutting the bookstore shelves? Authorized fanfic. My definition of fan fiction: stories set in a specific universe that aren't written by the original creator. So yeah, I say media tie-in novels and comic book continuations count. The only difference is, those writers get paid. We'll get back to that in a minute.

The stuff produced by actual fans, available for free on sites like FanFiction.net and Archive of Our Own, ain't all that bad either. Sure, some of it sucks, but according to Sturgeon's Law 90% of everything sucks. In the ten percent that doesn't suck you'll find the bestselling authors of tomorrow, honing their skills in their favorite universe. I'm surprised some of them aren't writing professionally already. Maybe some of them are. Pro writers do write fanfic. Why not? It's fun.

I've written my share of fanfic in my time. Back in high school I wrote a whole series starring the X-Men. None of it saw print, thank God, but some concepts I developed in those stories later made their way into my first professional SF story sale. I also discovered I had a taste for writing M/M, long before I knew it even existed as a genre. My book Temptation and Tights was my M/M tribute to those old superhero stories.

Two of my fanfic stories that did see print (actual print; this was pre-Internet) were set in the Star Trek: The Next Generation universe. One was a crossover with Alien; the other featured Q because I love Q. Put him in a scene with Data and the story writes itself.

A couple years back I discovered Supernatural and became obsessed with Cas, Sam and Dean, in that order. Again, none of my fanfic scribblings saw print and again, thank God.

Or did they?

I haven't made any secret that most of my recent books wouldn't have existed without Supernatural's influence. Belonging was a tribute to Wincest. Jessalina's Pets was inspired by the Season 9 publicity photos of Sam and Dean in cages. Just last week I sold a story to an ebook publisher; it's Destiel in all its glory, and I have a couple others in the works. The question is, are these fan fiction?

Fanfic writers, get ready to hurl those bricks. Here's where we diverge.

I say they're not, and not just because I want to avoid plagiarism charges. The stories mentioned above and the others I've written/am writing/hope to write do not take place in the Supernatural universe, and do not star Sam, Dean and Castiel. The plots do not involve two brothers hunting monsters. The closest I've come in that regard so far was Belonging, where the "Dean" character was a vampire slayer. These stories take place in different milieus, with different characters who have different personalities. They just happen to look like the actors, if only in my head.

When fanfic writers do this, it's called alternate universe, or AU. If you know anything about the genesis of 50 Shades of Grey, then you're familiar with this. 50 Shades was originally a fanfic story starring Bella and Edward and all the sex they never had in the Twilight series. E. L. James took the characters and put them in a different world and different situations and let them go to town. Later she changed their names to Ana and Christian and got the book published, and the rest is history.

Personally, I don't see the point of AU. In my mind, fanfic is stories written by fans using their favorite characters and set in the milieu of the book or TV show or whatever. It's stories that take place between books or broadcast episodes, the untold stories, the "good stuff" we're not getting from the official product, or "canon." Like Destiel. C'mon, you guys. Dean and Cas belong together. Everybody knows it. So what if Jensen and Misha are two straight married guys? Too bad. The fans want to see it, if the tons of Destiel fanfic out there are any indication. You're actors and you're under contract. Suck it up.

Stories that explore things like this I don't mind at all. It's when you start switching things around, moving characters out of their universe and changing everything but the names that I question it. You want Bella and Edward to have a BDSM relationship? Go for it. But change them into a businessman and his assistant with nary a vampire in sight? Why? Or Dean and Castiel getting it on? I'm all for it. Oh wait, they're both in high school now, and Castiel's not an angel. It's not Twilight or Supernatural any more so really, why even bother?

I guess it's because you love these characters and you want to play with them in different situations. I can dig it. Playing with a fascinating character is what makes writing fun. What I can't dig is changing everything about the characters and the universe that pulled you into that particular fandom in the first place. If you're going to do that, why not just write an original story with original characters, and imagine your favorite actors playing these new roles?

Which is what I'm doing, for a practical reason: I want to get paid but not sued. I have bills. I have expenses. I need to work for a living. I'd like to make a living as a writer. I don't have time to write free stuff. (I had a day job when I wrote the ST:TNG stories, so I didn't mind giving them away.) If I was writing real Supernatural fanfic, it would be with those characters as defined on the show, set in that particular universe. And it would have to be for free, because I don't own the copyrights. "Free" doesn't fill up my gas tank or pay my utility bills.

That's why it's Christian and Ana and not Edward and Bella doing kinky stuff for three novels. That's why it's not Ginny Weasley getting snuggly with Draco Malfoy in Cassandra Clare's Mortal Instruments series. And that's why those two guys in the pic up there aren't Dean and Castiel. When I write that story they'll be two different people, living in a world far different from the Supernatural universe. Or at least different enough to keep me out of court.

There will not be a fan fiction version. My stories are not repurposed fanfic. I skipped that step in the progression and went right for the legal, saleable stuff. I also skipped the fanbase, and therefore the sales, James and Clare built up with their original fanfic stories. It's a tradeoff.

Meanwhile, I'm keeping a close eye on Amazon's Kindle Worlds program. Amazon's got the tie-in rights to a number of properties, like Vampire Diaries and the Valiant Comics characters. Fans can write their own stories in these selected universes and earn royalties for them. Yes, you can get paid for writing certain fanfic. If they ever get the rights to Supernatural, I'm gonna be all over that so fast your head will spin. I've already got a couple stories in mind—stories set in that particular universe, starring those particular characters. The AU stuff I save for my original fiction. Those are concepts I own. If one of my "AU" books takes off, I'm in the catbird seat.

I leave you with this bit of irony: I hear 50 Shades has its own fan fiction. Wrap your head around that one, folks, and happy reading!

Super, Naturally

THE SAGA CONTINUES: I opened my mailbox yesterday and found an invoice from Highmark for my February health insurance payment. Payment due date: before January 20. The invoice was mailed Friday, January 16, and there was no mail service Monday. The soonest I could have received my bill was the due date. And why am I getting bills in the mail anyway? I thought they’d be grabbing it out of my bank account like they did the first one. That’s what Dana and I agreed on. Good ol’ Dana, who misled me into signing on for life insurance I didn’t need. Trust no one.

Back to phone calls. This time things turned out well. The chirpy young thing who answered told me the billing date was wrong. I have until the end of January to make my payment for next month. She confirmed I’m not set up for electronic payment like I thought I was. Fine by me. I’d rather send a check than have somebody’s sticky fingers dipping into my till. She’ll send me paperwork so I can go electronic in the future if I deem it necessary.

Bonus good news: they’ve finally mailed my paperwork! Chirpy Young Thing told me they sent it out “yesterday.” Funny how everything gets fixed “yesterday” as soon as you start bitching. I should finally get my policy and ID card next week, if I’m really lucky. Then I can get my throat looked at. It’ll probably have cleared up on its own by then. And how are you folks doing? Eating that apple a day?

# # #

Last week I found out Supernatural has been renewed for an eleventh season. The show’s not what it used to be in terms of quality, but the boys are still nice to look at. And hey, all they need is an influx of new writers with fresh ideas to get the excitement running again. Or they can go for the cheap ratings grab and make Destiel canon. But that’s just my personal dream.

Personally, I’m relieved. I’ve “cast” Jared and Jensen (and occasionally Misha) in so many of my recent stories I probably owe the guys money. Four of my last five books exist because they were inspired by the show. I’m afraid when it finally goes off the air I may have to give up writing.

Granted, Belonging might have existed anyway, just in a different form. If I hadn’t gotten obsessed with Supernatural, that book might have been a standard M/F. “Sam’s” role almost went to a woman. And damn, didn’t “Dean” make a great vampire? The show must have thought so; they ran that episode just as I was polishing up Belonging for market. I still think of that scene with Dean cleaning out the vampire nest as Wallace’s assault on the brothel.

And then there was the episode where the girl said to Sam, “Maybe you’re a hooker.” And the episode where Crowley referred to Sam and Dean as the Scarecrow and the Tin Man. Coincidence, yeah, but I’ll take it.

Out of Belonging came Legacy, and an expanded role for Misha Collins, aka the Preacher. Then I did the spinoff, Slayer for Hire, with Jared playing the son of his Belonging character. The boys returned in different form in my latest book, Jessalina’s Pets, after I got inspired by season 9’s publicity photos. Even though Fin ended up looking (in my mind) more like a silver-haired Tom Hiddleston, it was the picture of Jensen that gave him his roguish personality. Jared made it through intact, except for the darker skin. (Pay close attention to my physical descriptions. If one of my characters is lanky, shaggy haired, long-legged and unusually tall, odds are good he’s Jared Padalecki.)

My Supernatural book streak is on hold for the moment while I work on other things. My current WIP (almost ready for edits, hooray!) stars Brendan Fraser. After that it might be the M/M romance inspired by Project Runway. I watch a lot of TV, have you noticed? I should be writing instead. But the TV leads to writing, so it’s all good.

At some point I know I’ll be returning to the Supernatural well. I still owe Serena the final book in the Belonging trilogy, Misha/Preacher’s story. I’m waiting for the plot to stir to life again. Lately I’ve been thinking about the book I said I wouldn’t write (this one here) and wondering if I should write it after all. Wallace and his lovers had four children together; Gavin and Reese have a daughter. There may be stories there. I have a vague idea for a ménage involving half-brothers/horse shifters. One’s a long-legged Thoroughbred (sound familiar?), the other’s a feisty mustang. That one I think may wind up M/F, with the loser (sorry, Dean) getting his own story and his happy ending elsewhere, probably with the hot Appaloosa girl. Then there are the “Destiel” stories I’ve been fiddling with, a series of contemporary, non-paranormal (okay, one’s a ghost story) M/Ms starring Dean and Castiel. Sam has a cameo role in one of them.

And at some point, over in Talbot’s Peak, Sergei’s son Mikhail may finally turn up, looking for revenge against his father. Mikhail looks and sounds an awful lot like the Russian assassin character from season 1 of 24, played by Misha Collins. Why should Jared and Jensen have all the fun?

I’d better write fast, though. My main inspiration will still be on the air through 2016, but after that, who knows? I don’t want to have to go looking for a whole new show to obsess over. Hey, I know! I’ll write an original book (or series), sell the film rights to Hollywood, and then get Jared and Jensen to star in it. Bring it all full circle. Plus everybody makes money. I love it when a plan comes together.

Civil Disobedience, TV Predictions, and What the Hell's That in My Toothpaste?

I just finished editing a draft, so scattershot entry this week. We’ll start with an update on Stray Kitty. The Borough says I can’t legally feed him any more. I say, what the Borough doesn’t know won’t hurt it. I gave the bowls and the cat food away to a neighbor with indoor pets. That doesn’t mean SK’s going without. I still keep a couple cans of Fancy Feast on hand. If I see him or if he comes to the door, he gets fed. I give him about fifteen minutes and then bring the dish in. No evidence, no fines.

I recently learned my other neighbor who was feeding him has similarly gone on the sly. She puts food out around 5:30 am and takes the dishes in around 7. If the word has spread as I think it has, I’m sure anyone else who’s been feeding cats is also taking precautions. I don’t see Stray Kitty as often as I used to, but I notice he doesn’t seem to have lost any weight.

I haven’t seen the big gray tabby since I stopped putting the bowls out. He was fending for himself long before I started offering food, so I’m not worried about him. Maybe when next winter rolls around I’ll look into finding some outfit that’ll catch the kitties and rehabilitate them or relocate them to a better environment. Then we won’t have to defy the local government.

I haven’t seen any skunks around yet. I’m not feeding them either. They’re on their own.

# # #

Supernatural wrapped up its ninth season Tuesday night, and I’m proud to announce I successfully predicted the big twist cliffhanger (SPOILER ALERT): Dean dies and is resurrected as a demon. I’ve been hoping for Evil Dean as the Season 10 big bad for some time now. They have 23 episodes to get through next year, so we’ll see how long this lasts.

Here’s how I’d write it: we need some kind of plot to take up time, so what the hell, let’s spring Michael and Lucifer from their cage in Hell. Battling them should take up most of the season. Then towards the end Sam cures his brother (a “demon cure” was introduced back in Season 8), which completes the trials (also introduced in Season 8) and closes the gates of Hell. That would be the perfect way to wrap up the series, if that’s the way they’re headed. Guess it’ll depend on the ratings. The actors have said they’re willing to continue for as long as the show stays on the air. It’s a steady, well-paying job in a bad economy. Can you blame them?

I’m not sure what they’ll do with Castiel. He lost his grace in the Season 8 finale and became human, then stole another angel’s grace in Season 9 and powered up again. Now that grace is fading, which could kill him. Unless he finds another one, or recovers his own. He might be forced into vampirism, stealing grace from other angels to keep himself alive. Maybe he’s the one who frees Mike and Luci, hoping to suck up their graces. Or maybe he’ll explode again. He does that a lot.

Next season could be the end of the line for my favorite show. I’d better start writing now, and pile up ideas while it’s still on. The book I just finished is the latest in a string of works inspired by the show. What am I going to do when it’s gone? I may have to look for a job.

# # #

The other day I bought toothpaste, and not my usual brand. This one was on sale, and is designed for us older folks with sensitive gums and thinner enamel. The first thing I noticed was a difference in taste. The old farts’ toothpaste doesn’t taste as good as the cool kids’ toothpaste. Why not?

Fearing the worst, I dug up the old tube and checked the ingredients. That’s where I found this beauty: “sodium saccharin.” Say what? Isn’t sodium salt? Isn’t saccharin a type of sweetener? That’s right, folks, your toothpaste is designed to appeal to your sweet and salty taste buds. This is so you don’t object to putting it in your mouth twice a day. I hope the fluoride cancels out any negative side effects.

Here are the “inactive ingredients” you get in your average tube of Colgate: water, hydrated silica (isn’t that wet sand?), glycerin, sorbitol, PVM/MA copolymer (sounds like a building material), sodium laurel sulfate, cellulose gum, flavor (type not specified; mint?), sodium hydroxide, propylene glycol, carrageenan (Huh? Whuzzat?), sodium saccharin, titanium hydroxide. Quite the chemical laundry list there. Happy Googling.

The question also arises as to why, if soft bristle toothbrushes are the only ones you should use, manufacturers even bother to make toothbrushes with hard bristles. Why not make all soft ones? Somebody at a dental convention once asked this question of a toothbrush manufacturer, and never quite got a straight answer. Maybe the hard bristles are for scrubbing out toilets. Maybe that’s what the carrageenan is for.

Isn’t there a leaf you can chew that does the same thing? What did Native Americans do?

I’d like to point out that nothing on that list prevented me from needing a root canal a couple of months ago. So to hell with toothpaste. I’m going back to writing like mad while Supernatural is still on the air. Enjoy your Memorial Day!

Flirting with Disaster?

Happy after the holidays! How was your Christmas? Here in my part of Pennsylvania, we didn't get a white Christmas. We had three snowstorms in a week, then the weekend before Christmas the temperature shot up into the 50s and 60s, with rain. By Christmas Eve there wasn't a spec of snow on the ground. Then this morning a squall came through and dumped two inches on everything. Go figure.

Anyway, looks like I’ll be going into the new year with a lot of baggage from the old year, in this case paranoia and second-guessing myself. To wit:

My current WIP is an expansion of “Double Dipping,” posted here on 10/9/13, and on Shapeshifter Seductions as “Adopt a Pet” (10/7/13). A spoiled, rich, beautiful woman buys a pair of slaves to alleviate her boredom. Hijinks ensue, including threeways and kidnappings. All this from a Supernatural publicity photo of Jared Padalecki in a cage. I take my inspiration where I can get it.

In the course of writing, the physical descriptions of the characters changed considerably from their original form. Jensen’s character is shorter and more compactly built than his inspiration, with long silver-white hair and gray eyes. Jared’s character is still tall with long brown hair, but now he’s got brown eyes and brown skin. Surprised me too, but it seemed to fit.

Let’s review: I’m writing a story in which a rich white woman goes to a slave market and buys a virile, brown-skinned man as a sex toy.

Yes, you read that right.

I want to be clear here. The story takes place on an alien planet in a galaxy far, far away. The man is not African, because there’s no Africa on this world. He’s not even from Earth. He’s a shapeshifter, but doesn’t turn into a big cat or any other African-style animal. His people evolved in a desert environment; the closest Earth analogy to his ethnic type would probably be Arab. Great, now I’ll have the Muslims after me.

To sum up, he’s not black and not intended to be black. He’s an alien shapeshifter with brown skin. That doesn’t change the fact he’s bought as a slave by a woman described as white-skinned and blonde. She buys his buddy too, who’s an obvious white guy, and frees both of them well before the end of the book, but I don’t think that’s going to help. Somebody somewhere is going to read “brown” and “slave” and slam me for being a racist. If that somebody’s an editor, my book is dead in the water.

Am I being oversensitive and paranoid? Maybe. However, the current Duck Dynasty flap goes to show that anything that steps off the PC trail is going to cause a ruckus. I once subbed a book that had a European character refer to Native Americans as “red Indians.” I was asked to change it because it might be perceived as racist. No big; I changed the dialogue to “cowboys and Gila monsters.” The reptilian community was not upset, as far as I can tell. The same book had the shapeshifter characters refer to non-shifter humans as “monkeys,” “apes,” “simians,” “primates,” and even less friendly terms. I had a mobster with an Italian name, but he was a werewolf so I guess he got a pass. Aspersions were cast upon the French. The book was popular and got great reviews. Apparently racism only exists if you think you see it.

A friend of mine once tried to market a post-apocalyptic novel set in Central/South America. The bad guys were the male ruling cabal, who behaved the way jerky males in power have since the beginning of time. She was told her male characters were Hispanic stereotypes because they acted “too macho.” If she’d set the book in Wisconsin and given the men Anglo names and not changed anything else, I’ll bet their behavior would have been a non-issue. Wonder what would have happened if she’d subbed the book under a Spanish pen name?

So what do you do? If you’re a Caucasian writer, are you only allowed to write about white characters? If you’re straight, can you never write a LGBT character? Then people claim there’s not enough diversity, that everybody in books is straight and white. Gee, can’t imagine why it turned out that way. What happened to writing characters who are individual people, as opposed to being forced to represent whatever race/ethnicity/gender/religion they happen to be?

There may be a way out of this. When I get to the rewrite, I think I’ll have my FMC compare his skin color to the brown hides of the deer she has running loose on her estate. This’ll fit in nicely with the big reveal about his animal form. It’ll also get readers thinking more about Bambi and less about Kunta Kinte. Or maybe I’ll just go back to my other WIP, the one with the dragon shifter who’s half Chinese. It’s necessary to the plot, folks. It’s also M/M. Sorry if you’re easily offended. You’ll just have to deal.

Dead Reckoning

So I’m watching Supernatural’s mid-season finale the other night and whoa, they went and offed a semi-regular without warning. I was mildly surprised. Everybody on that show dies eventually, including the main characters. Sam and Dean between them must have croaked at least a dozen times by now. They’ve both been to Heaven and Hell and come back. Their angel buddy Castiel dies a lot too. Mostly he seemed to explode, for some reason. That divine flatulence must be hell on the angelic digestive system.

What’s different about this latest victim is, I don’t think he’ll be back. That’s another thing about the show. Characters die and come back, unless they’re female. Women don’t fare well on Supernatural. Nobody wants some whiny, clingy bitch coming between the boys. (Gay relationships, especially involving popular angels like Cas and Gabriel, are not only okay, they’re encouraged. But that’s a whole other blog).

This got me thinking about comic books, and how often even the top-tier heroes seem to buy the farm these days. Remember some years back, when DC killed Superman? It made national headlines. They brought him back, of course. No way the company would permanently off their biggest cash cow. Since then Batman, Captain America, the Human Torch, and countless B-listers have bitten the dust, only to have triumphant returns as soon as sales slack off.

Except for the women. They stay dead. Do a Google search for “women in refrigerators.” It’s fascinating reading, and also a topic for another blog.

All this death and resurrection flying around in our popular entertainment makes me wonder: does a dramatic, cinematic death even matter any more? Is death as a plot device, well, dead?

Done right, it can really make for a powerful story. Remember Star Trek II, when Spock heroically sacrificed himself to save the ship? Not only did it stir the emotions, it tied in to the themes of the story. However, Spock returned in the next movie. I’m not sure which theme that was demonstrating, other than “money talks, so the Vulcan walks.” Nimoy claims he’s retired now. We’ll see.

I got another shock from the Harry Potter books, when Dumbledore took one for the team at the hands of the treacherous Snape. I kept expecting him to make a triumphant return in the final book. Why not? Voldemort was vaporized before the story started, and he came back. Are you telling me Voldemort’s more powerful than Dumbledore? Well, Voldy had taken precautions, so we can say he was better prepared. But Dumbledore stayed dead, which was very noble of him. He was getting tiresome anyway.

The “dead” hero or villain has long been a staple in comic books. The general rule has always been, “if you don’t see a body, they may not be dead.” (See: Gandalf, Lord of the Rings.) Sometimes you do see a body and they come back anyway. Wolverine has regenerated himself from a single drop of blood. Now that’s one hell of a mutant ability.

The point is, like any other plot device, do it too many times and it loses its power. It’s become almost a running gag in the comic book store where I hang out. “Hey, so-and-so died last issue.” “Uh-huh. They’ll be back. Is the new X-Files out yet?” What used to be a rarity is becoming a regular thing. As a result we, the reading/viewing audience, are becoming jaded.

I know why they’re doing this, and not just in comic books. It’s for series/sequel purposes. You can’t have a sequel if the hero, or the beloved secondary character, dies. Nobody wants the ride to end—not the readers, not the moviegoers, and especially not the publishers, writers, or other copyright holders who rely on the proceeds to buy their gas and groceries. At the same time, these characters have been around for decades now. Superman and Batman have been fighting crime since the 1940s. Even the Marvel heroes, the new kids on the block, are in their 50s by now. It gets tough to come up with fresh stories when you’ve got a history that extensive.

So you trot out the death card. Girlfriends, sidekicks, family members, sometimes the hero himself. What you can't kill is the franchise. Otherwise the money stops coming in. So there’s a proper mourning period, and then we find out it wasn’t really Ultraguy who died, it was a robot, or a clone, or he faked his own death to catch the bad guy, or magic was involved. Status reverts to quo, and it’s on to another adventure.

And fandom covers its mouth in a massive yawn.

At this rate, characters who die and stay dead will become the rarity. Spidy’s Uncle Ben is still dead, as far as I know. He’s the exception, the male version of the woman in the refrigerator. Aunt May, on the other hand, has teetered on the brink of expiration since the 1960s, and she’s still kicking. Nobody believes she’s going to really die. Imagine if they killed her off and didn’t bring her back. That would make national headlines too. Or at least get us talking in the comic store.

It makes me kind of glad I never really pursued my interest in comic book writing. I like to kill my characters. Sometimes it’s shock value, sometimes the story demands it, sometimes I just don’t like them. I don’t bring them back, either. I kill somebody, they’re gone. I like having the freedom to off whoever I feel like whacking at that particular moment. I don’t want to be told I have to bring him back because the fans are in an uproar and the company’s going to lose revenue. Yeah? And when Mommy and Daddy go to their just reward, what are you gonna do then? Bitch to God? That only works on Supernatural. Those guys have excellent agents.

So here’s to Game of Thrones. I haven’t seen it, but I’ve heard about the big slaughter scene. I’m assuming major characters get what’s coming to them. I don’t have Showtime and I haven’t read the book. Somebody let me know when the major characters come back.

In the Air

The other week we had a minor scare over at our other blog, Shapeshifter Seductions. On that blog we five writers have been chronicling the adventures of a cast of shapeshifters in Talbot’s Peak, a remote town in Montana. Imagine our consternation when we discovered an ebook publisher was putting out a multiple-author series about love and lots and lots of sex set in a remote town in Montana. Turned out it was cowboys and not shapeshifters getting it on out there in the boonies, so this time we’re okay.

Not so much with the other book, about the sexy werewolf in the town of Talbot. I’m assuming that writer got the name the same place we did: Universal Pictures’ The Wolf Man, starring Lon Chaney Jr. as reluctant werewolf Larry Talbot. As homages go, it’s pretty obvious.

We’re not the first writers to come up with “secret enclave of strange beings” stories, or even the first to do a romance series involving shapeshifters. There’s a huge market for romance right now, and tons of writers with tons of ideas all looking for receptive publishers. There’s bound to be serious overlap.

Because that’s the nature of ideas. They’re raw materials, clay we dig out of the imagination mine and shape into a story. Sometimes it seems like a bunch of us latch onto the same vein of clay at the same time. All of a sudden you’ll see a flurry of stories about hidden towns populated by shapeshifters or vampires or aliens or demons or really, really sexy pagan priests who believe making love is the best form of worship. Everybody pairs up or triples up or whatever, and a good time is had by all.

Is this plagiarism? No, it’s coincidence. Ideas are free for the taking. It’s the execution, the specific way you shape the idea clay, that makes the result unique and copyrightable. You can give a dozen writers the same idea, and you’ll get a dozen totally different stories. There may be a bit of duplication, but it’ll probably be spotty. Not a cause for alarm.

Does plagiarism happen? Well, yeah. Ask Nora Roberts how she’s feeling about Janet Daily these days. Or the people who’ve posted fanfic or free stories at various venues, only to find their work lifted, word for word, by a self-published “writer” on Amazon. In this case the idea was, “let somebody else do all the hard work and then steal it.” That’s not what’s writing’s about.

Here’s a true-life coincidence. My first published romance was Coyote Moon. A female auto mechanic who doesn’t know she’s half werewolf is courted by a werecoyote. At the time I wrote and sold the story, I was completely unaware of the existence of Patricia Briggs’ Mercy Thompson series, about a shapeshifting female auto mechanic. Since then I’ve learned enough about the series to know we each went in totally different directions with the same essential premise, and I had no intention of turning mine into a series anyway, so legally I’m off the hook. To this day I’ve never read any of the books. However, I’ll bet there are people out there who’ve read both and believe I’m a stinking thief. Not so, but how do I prove it? I had an idea and I wrote it my way. How was I to know somebody else had the same basic idea before I did? I was new to paranormal romance and urban fantasy back then, and hadn’t read extensively enough to know what was already out there. Briggs’s lawyers never came after me, so either she isn’t aware of my book or she is aware of how general ideas float around, waiting for writers to make them specific.

Then there were the SF stories I wrote about the telepathic pterosaurs that bore more than a passing resemblance to Anne McCaffrey’s

Pernese dragons, but we won’t go into that. Again, lawyers never became involved. My series, had I continued it, was already heading in a totally different direction. Remember, it’s all in the execution.

Sure, there’s a lot of iffy stuff out there, especially in Hollywood. Back in the ‘70s producer Glen Larson (or “Glen Larceny” as he was known by a lot of working writers) had a penchant for putting shows on the air that bore more than a passing resemblance to other people’s work. Check out Larson’s cop show McCloud and the Clint Eastwood flick Coogan’s Bluff, for example. Or Battlestar Galactica (1970s version), that hit the airwaves in the wake of the phenomenal success of Star Wars. Larson swore the show was in development before George’s movie took off. Maybe it was. Maybe the same general idea hit them both.

Just like ABC and NBC both decided to create shows about fairy tale characters living in the modern world, not long after DC/Vertigo tried shopping Fables to them. Fables is a comic book series about fairy tale characters living in the modern world. Neither TV show bears much resemblance to the comic book, or to each other, for that matter. Wherever ABC and NBC got the idea, they did different things with it. Though I’m sure Fables creator Bill Willingham would love to know the source of their inspiration.

In short: you can’t copyright a basic idea. You can copyright what you do with it. If you’re “inspired” by others’ works (ask me about my obsession with Supernatural some time. Bring a lunch.) make sure to keep it just that—inspiration—and give it your voice and your personal spin. In other words, be original. If you want to write a series about a town of shapeshifters in Montana, go for it. But don’t name it Talbot’s Peak, don’t include a wolf pack feuding with a criminal organization run by an evil tiger, and don’t make the mayor a squirrel. We’re watching.

Bits 'n' Pieces

Random stuff to fill out the blog for a Thursday …

We’ll start with the unintentional shout-out Supernatural gave to my book Belonging on Tuesday. It’s the story of a vampire (played in my mind-movie by Jensen) and his human lover (as portrayed by Jared). In his human days the vampire was a slayer on an Oz-themed team; his street name was the Tin Man. His pet name for his lover is Scarecrow. Well, the recent ep had its own Oz theme. Imagine my surprise when the demon Crowley referred to Sam and Dean as the Scarecrow and the Tin Man. Nyah, nyah, I was there first, a couple years and a M/M/F sequel ago. The King of Hell needs to catch up on his M/M reading. You can read a stand-alone scene involving these characters here on this blog (“Origin Story,” 6/27/13). I'd make it a link but I don't know how. Damn computer age!

# # #

I see some head-scratching among the newbies. Those initials up there, M/M, etc. What’s that mean? That’s the secret code of romance writers, especially in the erotica subgenre. Okay, it’s not really all that secret, but it can get a bit confusing.

These letters are a guide to readers as to what kind of relationships they can expect in their reading experience. M/F is the traditional boy-and-girl, or Male/Female. Two guys is M/M, or Male/Male, and F/F is Female/Female. It’s when you start getting into multiples that things get tricky. M/F/M is two dudes and a chick, but the dudes have no romantic entanglement. M/M/F is two dudes in a relationship who branch out by adding a chick. If the men in the M/F/M are brothers, you need to specify there’s no sexual contact between the men during the deed, because that’s incest and largely frowned upon except in fan fiction. In an M/M/F the boys can have their own sex scene as well as romps with the lady. It helps if you warn the reader beforehand. Just label it M/M/F with M/M elements.

Similarly, F/M/F would be one man with two women (lucky him), but the ladies aren’t into each other, whereas in a F/F/M they would be (again, lucky him). I’ve never heard of a M/F/F, but I’m guessing there must be one somewhere. I recently learned there’s such a thing as F/M/M, a dominant female with two or more men in her harem. Good thing, because I wrote a flash scene (“Double Dipping”, 10/9/13) that, if I decide to expand it into a story, would fall into that category. I didn’t even know it was a category, but apparently some publishers do run stories with the chick in charge. If mine makes it to full length, it’ll be F/M/M with M/M elements, because the guys get horny and she has to sleep sometime. I don’t know how a woman in a M/F/M/M/M/M/M survives to the end of the book.

On the same writing forum where I learned about F/M/M, I asked why the “M” always comes first, when most of these books are about the woman and are aimed at female readers. I was told the first letter signifies the dominant partner. Since that’s usually the guy, he comes first. I was also told a lower-case m or f signifies a subordinate or submissive partner. This is why dom/sub labels are written D/s and not D/S. Since the two guys in my maybe-book up there are the woman’s legal slaves, I suppose I could write it F/m/m, though it’s more slaves in name only by the end. Something tells me M/f (dominant male, submissive female) isn’t popular, but if you make him a Dom and her a willing sub you can probably get away with it.

As more genres get mixed in with erotic romance, we’re liable to see M/F/N (male, female, neuter) or F/M/B (female, male, bi). Or, if you’re into science fiction, M/F/WTF. That one should be interesting. I’d better bone up on my alphabet.

# # #

Here’s another term you might run across: mpreg. That’s male pregnancy, and you can thank fanfic writers for that. It’s a way for your two lovely boys to experience the joy of parenthood without involving a woman and her icky girl cooties. It helps if one of the partners is an alien or knows magic or something, because the last time I checked human men don’t have a uterus or a birth canal, which would make gestation and labor pretty messy. Pouches are one alternative if you don’t want to give your hero a womb. On the TV show Alien Nation, not only did the woman have to be fertilized by a third party before she could conceive with her mate, but toward the end of the pregnancy she transferred the fetus to the man’s pouch and he carried the kid until birth. If your main character’s dating a seahorse shifter, you could end up with one of these stories. I’d love to see their medical textbooks, or sit in on a sex-ed class.

# # #

Speaking of reproduction, a stray cat in our neighborhood has been raising her two kittens under the guy on the corner’s shed. Fortunately we’re in a semi-rural area, and the local farmers always welcome outdoor cats to keep the rodents out of the feed. Mom and her brood are already assured of a home and all the mice they can hunt. Now we just have to catch them. And how is your week going?

Well, Waddaya Know

Since I didn’t win anything in last night’s Powerball drawing, looks like it’s back to the keyboard. That’s okay, because yesterday I won something even better: Evernight Teen accepted my novel! I can now add YA to my list of conquered genres. I haven’t read extensively from the modern YA shelves, but I used to read a ton of science fiction and fantasy, and a lot of times it amounts to the same thing. (Heinlein’s advice on writing juveniles: “Make the protagonist 17 years old, then write it the same way you’d write any other book.”)

Here’s Slayer for Hire in brief: a fan obsesses over the star of her favorite TV show. Then she meets him in person and discovers he’s a douche. Lucky for her his co-star is a hottie of the highest order. They end up fighting vampires together. Yes, there are vampires in it, but they’re secondary characters and wind up getting slain. It’s an anti-vampire vampire novel.

The hottie co-star is based on an actor I’m currently obsessing over. Jared Padalecki’s been very, very good to me. I’ve put him in three books now, with a possible forth poking around in the underbrain, waiting for inspiration to hit. I’ll get to Misha’s book someday. Jensen? Sorry. You had your shot. You’re done. You get a cameo in Misha’s book. You’re Captain Kirk and Jared’s Spock, and Spock was always my favorite. Better luck next show.

Yeah, I remember the thrill of seeing my favorite actor on screen. I had a major fangirl crush on Harrison Ford for decades. It made writing Billie, my female protag, that much easier because I’ve been in her shoes. Write what you know.

That’s basic writing advice, but is it any good? Depends. If you’re a doctor, writing medical thrillers is pretty much a no-brainer. On the other hand, I doubt very much if Stephen King has ever personally faced ghosts, aliens or demons, or lived through the flu-induced end of the world. I myself have written M/M, and I’m fairly sure I’ve never been male, either gay or straight. Nor am I a shapeshifter. If I was, do you think I’d be living in my current shape?

It works if you use “write what you know” as a starting point. Ever been cold? Ever gone outside in a snowstorm? Then you can write about somebody lost in a blizzard, or growing up on an arctic planet. You’ve grown up, haven’t you? That makes you a potential YA author. Ever taken a vacation at the beach? Go ahead and write that mermaid story. Hell, you can write it even if you’ve only ever been to a river or lake. Who’s to say there aren’t fresh-water mermaids?

I used to consider myself a SF/fantasy fan, and attended my share of cons in the ‘80s and ‘90s. I’ve watched the costume contests and attended the filksings (yes, that’s spelled correctly). I’ve sat up until 4 in the morning watching Japanese anime—in Japanese. I’ve experienced the culture shock of returning to the mundane world after three days surrounded by people in costumes and alien makeup. I saw William Shatner in person back in the late ‘70s. (He’s shorter than you think.) I once spoke to Darth Vader. (David Prowse was a guest at a con in Philadelphia. I was poking through stuff at a dealer’s table, turned around, and there he was. “Hi,” said I. “Hello,” said he. That was my conversation with Darth Vader.)

In short, I’ve been exposed to fandom and remember the fangirl mindset, and I know what it’s like to crush on both an actor and his fictional character. Writing Billie wasn’t much of a stretch for me. I’ve never worked in a diner, but I did work at a McDonald’s. I’ve spent time behind counters. I never waded through a swamp to catch a glimpse of Harrison Ford, but I’ve waited all week long (and boy, did it feel long) for my favorite show with my favorite star to come on.

You probably know more than you think you do. Use those memories. Talk to other people and use their memories. Start with the basic experience and extrapolate from there. Stephen King’s novella “The Body” (filmed as Stand By Me) sprang from a friend’s recollection of the first time he saw roadkill in the street. Everything else was Stevie drawing on the memories and emotions of his childhood.

In fact, knowledge of people and how they feel and react is pretty much all you need. Human nature hasn’t changed in thousands of years. If you know people, you can write anything.

Now that I’ve added YA to my resume of genres, I’m beginning to feel invincible. Maybe it’s time to dust off the Gerald S. Parker pseudonym and get cracking on those horror/thrillers. Sooner or later, one of these genres is going to earn me a living. Happy writing, everybody!

Giving Thanks

Tomorrow is National Turkey Day, or OD on Parades Day, or Thanksgiving, take your pick. I'm posting this early because I don't have home Internet, and there's no guarantee I'll find an open store with WiFi tomorrow. As I recall, last year I ended up in Dunkin Donuts because McDonald's was closed. Since when is McDonald's closed on a holiday? How are we supposed to get our Big Macs if everybody's home with their families?

At any rate, here's my list of things I'm thankful for in 2012:

Modern computers and Internet access. I just finished the final draft of the YA book. I'll be sending it out on Monday, via email. No more trips to the post office, no more postage, no more manilla envelopes. And especially no more typing hundreds of pages every time you write a new version. I suspect typewriters are the reason writers got in the habit of only producing one novel a year. I'm the slowest writer on the planet and I wrote two books and a novella this year. Well, that's fast for me. I put the typewriter away when I got my first computer and never looked back. I still do first drafts in longhand, but that's more for safety reasons. If I'm sitting in bed with the notebook and pen and spill hot tea on the paper, the paper doesn't shoot off sparks, crash, and set the bed on fire. It also gives me a hardcopy draft in case the computer gets a bug. Don't get me wrong, I love both my laptop and my antediluvian desktop, except for the whole crashing thing.

Personal health. I've been extremely lucky in the health department. The last time I needed major surgery, I had a job and therefore medical coverage. I really, really, really should take better care of this meatsuit I'm walking around in, because it's piling up the serious mileage. More fruit, more vegetables, more exercise. Maybe I can learn to write while I walk, or write on a stationary bike or something. Four to five hours a day sitting around typing words onto a screen may be emotionally satisfying, but it doesn't do squat for your butt.

Rice and tea. I don't think I could live without rice and tea. I'd give up chocolate first. (See previous paragraph.)

Supernatural. Two of the three books I talked about earlier were inspired by that show. I've got another one on the to-be-written list (a trilogy gets kind of lopsided with only two books in it) and another possible with a nodding acquaintance. And then, of course, there's this:

And this:

And of course this:

If I found that in my room I'd be giving a lot more than thanks, boy I tell you what.

Siren Publishing. They bought my books. And all the readers who bought my books. I now feel I have a responsiblity to entertain people to the best of my ability. I'm not Stephen King yet, but I can aim for it.

The lovely ladies at Shapeshifter Seductions, who let me blog about stuff like gay, cross-dressing snakes and men who turn into squirrels. We're at www.shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com. Stop in and check us out.

And to you folks reading this. Thanks for dropping by, and happy Thanksgiving!

Freak Love

Romance novels fall under the category of fantasy. Impossibly handsome, successful, alpha men sweep us off our feet and bring us to unbelievable orgasms using techniques we’d slap any real guy silly for even suggesting. Naturally, if you’re writing these books, you want to create a hero who fulfills the readers’ every fantasy. Physically beautiful, rich as hell but still cooks you dinner, IQ in the 200s but never makes you feel like an idiot, who loves your cat even though he’s allergic, and could have any woman in the world but wants you and you alone. Not to mention he has a schlong bigger than Tommy Lee’s, and he knows tricks in the bedroom even Ron Jeremy never heard of. We as writers use all the tropes with abandon, and throw in our own personal preferences to help make our fantasy men stand out.

Which is wherein my problem lies. It’s a darn good thing I was drawn to paranormal, because my character crushes over the years have been consistent and all point in the same direction. Namely, I dig the freaks.

# # #

My first big-time crush on a TV character grew out of my favorite show, Star Trek. I realize Captain Kirk was the designated sex symbol, but he never did much for me. I fell for Spock. Pointy-eared, alien Spock, with the astronomical IQ and emotionless demeanor. No throwing punches for this action hero: he had the Vulcan nerve pinch, which was cooler than cool. Spock himself was cooler than cool. Yeah, okay, Shatner was easy on the eyes in those days, and artfully ripped his shirt in quite a few episodes. But put Kirk in a scene with Spock and my attention switched allegiance. Spock set the tone for my fictional hero crushes: tall, slender, intelligent, cool, loyal, with a dry sense of humor and just a hair off the norm. Sorry, Captain. Bring on the aliens!

# # #

If watching big, overdeveloped males in combat is your thing, I recommend professional wrestling. I was a big fan for quite a few years. All those muscle men in spandex engaging in soap opera plots! Of course it’s all choreographed. That’s half the fun. I got more laughs out of wrestling matches than I did from sitcoms. And you can’t fake those physiques. Those guys work out, and it shows.

So, with literally dozens of fine physical specimens to crush on, who did I fall for? Kane. The silent, seven-foot guy in the mask. They built a whole

mythology around him. He was Undertaker’s younger brother, hideously scarred in a fire and bent on revenge. He never spoke. He was insane. He had long, stringy hair and a beautiful butt spandex was just made to mold to. The mask just added to the mystery. What was under there? What horrible secrets was he hiding? (Other than the fact he’d been wrestling for the WWE for years as other characters before he hit it big as Kane.) He was the perfect gothic hero, big and brooding and damaged, waiting for the right woman to save him with her love. Eventually he lost the mask (and that hair! NOOOOOOOOOOO!) and became just another big-muscled dude. That was the point I lost interest in wrestling. I notice he’s back in the mask now. Don’t mess with success.

# # #

About two-three years back I discovered Supernatural. I came late to the party; fortunately, the library had seasons 1, 2, and 4, so I was able to catch up in a relatively short time. The heavy marathons probably contributed to my obsession with the show. And who did I fixate on? Castiel, angel of the Lord. Cute, cool, powerful, emotionless, dry sense of

humor, total badass, doesn’t quite get us humans. His only drawback is that Misha Collins isn’t as tall as Leonard Nimoy. Fortunately Jared Padalecki is. I can get my tall, slender guy fix watching Sam. Between the

two of them, I’ve got my perfect fantasy man. Dean? Nope. Sorry, Jensen, you’re too Captain Kirk for my taste. Try artfully ripping your shirt.

# # #

My pattern of crushes continues. I started watching Grimm last season. The lead, Nick, is your standard TV paranormal hero: cute, competent, boring. Yawn. Right off the bat I was drawn to Monroe the werewolf. He’s funny and loyal and looks out for his friends, and he’s not

all that hard on the eyes. I’d date him in a second. As for Nick, I don’t think even ripping his shirt would make up for the lack of personality. Better luck on your next show, buddy.

# # #

No wonder I don’t date much. I look for the weirdoes, the oddballs, the freaks, the folks on the edge of normalcy. My kind of people. With nice butts. Looks like it’s back to cruising SF conventions. In the meantime, I’d better write another book. My hero will be tall, intelligent, and inhuman. That’s the way I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.

Why Guy?

I didn’t deliberately set out to become a writer of M/M paranormal romance fiction. When the grade-school teachers asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up, I didn’t stand in front of the class and announce, “I want to write stories about two or more hawt men falling in love with each other, complete with explicit sex.” (Imagine if I had, though. I’d probably still be in detention.)

I ended up in this subgenre the way I ended up in a lot of my day jobs, and the same way I ended up as a romance writer in general: I just kind of fell into it. I always wanted to be a writer—that much was a deliberate choice—but I always thought I’d make my name in science fiction and fantasy. Somehow I drifted into romance, specifically paranormal romance. It was the same thing I’d been writing, just with hot bits.

Many people believe the whole M/M genre grew out of slash fan fiction, which began with Kirk/Spock back in the 1970s. Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Darkover series contains elements of M/M, F/F and ménage in a science fantasy setting. The leap from one genre to the other wasn’t that wide of a jump.

However, I started with traditional M/F, or as traditional as that gets with werewolves and vampires involved. My slide into same-sex debauchery began with a publisher’s call for novellas involving angels and/or demons. I came up with an idea of a demon and an angel competing for a human woman. Except, as the plot moved along, they became less interested in the woman and more and more drawn to each other. Oops. Oh well, what the hell. And that’s how Bad Boys came to be, and how I wrote my first M/M.

Not that I planned on making M/M my career choice. I’d had an idea, I had fun writing it, now we move on to the next. “The next” turned out to be Belonging. The inciting idea was basically “a brothel intended for vampires,” so the leads were a prostitute and the vampire customer she falls in love with. Yes, I did say “she.” That book started life as M/F. Then I discovered Supernatural. Jared and Jensen were just so pretty and had so much on-screen chemistry, they inspired me to give my hooker a sex change. The she became a he, the book became M/M, and I found myself writing in a whole new category.

And it ain’t over yet! I have a list of M/F stories I’d like to get to someday, but I also have a growing list of M/M plots, including an idea for a series. Those dang horny boys just won’t go away.

I think I’ve finally figured out why.

I like men. They’re cute. They’re fun. They can change overhead light bulbs without needing a ladder and open stubborn jars. They may not have much sense, but at least they’re trainable. Then there are the other obvious pluses, which I won’t go into here. We all have our own top-ten lists.

As a writer, it’s my duty to create a male lead a female reader would gladly take home to meet the parents. What do I like in a man? What turns me on? What draws me in? I take all my favorite physical, mental and emotional traits and pour them into one drop-dead-gorgeous man-package. Over and over, I create my ideal mate, my perfect man—

And turn him over to someone else. Some undeserving bitch.

There’s the one big drawback to being a writer of romance. The leads have to fall in love with each other and live happily ever after. Terrific for you two, but what about me? I’m not my heroines. They’re all younger and tougher and prettier and a whole lot thinner than I am. I keep coming up with variations on my perfect boyfriend, then have to watch him ride off into the sunset with another woman, the skanky tramp bimbo whore.

Ah, but then we’ve got M/M. I get to create two perfect men, and I get to keep them. Two drool-worthy, be-still-my-heart hunkalicious males, making out on the page with tender abandon and no rival women in sight. I get my paranormal fix, my romance fix, and my guy fix. Show me the downside to any of that.

I’m not alone in this mindset. There are M/M fans out there who won’t read a ménage if there’s a woman involved. A reviewer who read Legacy expressed initial trepidation because she hadn’t wanted to see a woman come between Wallace and Jeremy. I hadn’t either, but the idea hit and I ran with it. I guess it worked out. It gave me the chance to write about the Preacher, with his smoldering eyes and single-minded intensity. I’ll get to his story eventually. He ends up with another woman. I appear to be addicted to self-punishment.

As you can see, I’m not giving up on M/F entirely. I’m willing to concede some of my female leads are worthy of the men I give them. Fine, Amber/Ashley/Brittany, you can have Todd/Brent/Mitchell. I’m keeping Adam and Donner. They’re werewolves, they’re naked, they’re hungry for each other and they’re mine.

All of a sudden I’m in the mood to reread my favorite Spenser books by Robert B. Parker. Then I can picture Robert Urich and Avery Brooks solving crimes together. I’ll just skip the scenes with Spenser’s girlfriend Susan in them. Those two men … yummy yum yum.

RIP Castiel

I guess it’s as official as fiction can get: according to the producers of Supernatural, Castiel, the boys’ angel buddy, has indeed walked off into the sunset – or, in this case, into the city reservoir – and out of the story and off the show. Even though he’s become a fan favorite since his introduction three years ago, even though the actor who portrays him, Misha Collins, is a huge draw at cons and on Twitter, Castiel’s story is over and done and the character is apparently kaput. Guess nobody’s job is safe in this economy, not even an angel’s.

As much as I’ll miss him, as a writer I can understand why he had to go. The storyline he was brought in for wrapped up in Season 5. Season 7 just kicked off and he was still hanging around. He even became God for a while. Not bad for a character who was slated to die after about four-five episodes.

This happens in writing a lot. Sometimes a walk-on character just takes off on you. All you can do is tag along and watch what happens.

What happened was on-screen magic, when it worked. When it didn’t … well, those of us who remember the train wreck that was Deanna Troy’s characterization on Star Trek: The Next Generation know how bad it can get. It’s like having Superman in the Justice League. Superman can do anything. If you’ve got him, you really don’t need the rest of the Justice League. If you had Cas to solve all the monster problems, you really didn’t need Sam and Dean.

There are only so many things you can do with an angel once you’ve stopped the Apocalypse. Depower him (they did that, but restored him), use him as comedy relief (unfair to the character), use him sparingly (which they did, and the fans squawked), give him a storyline worthy of the character (at the expense of the stars of the show), or admit his story’s told, and let him go.

This problem is easier to cope with in a novel. If a character starts to take over the story, maybe he or she doesn’t belong there to begin with. Maybe they should have their own story. A lot of them get their own story; this is how a trilogy or a series starts. I had the same thing happen with my “Cas” character in Belonging. He started out with a cameo, a little in-joke to myself. Then I put him in the sequel, where he ended up with a bigger role than I’d planned on. As soon as I get the sequel out in the mail, I’m starting work on his story.

And when that’s over, that’s it. He and his girlfriend (yeah, it’s M/F; sorry, Destiel fans) will go off and have a life together that doesn’t need to be chronicled. Unless I write another sequel, but that doesn’t seem likely at this point. Their story’s done. Time to move on.

Personally, I don’t think Castiel’s quite finished yet. After all, we never saw a body, and anyone who reads comic books knows what that means. People die on that show all the time and come back. Cas himself has died twice already. I’m hoping Supernatural’s writers will bring him back in the second half of the season, so he can clean up the mess he inadvertently started, and then give him the send-off he deserves. And a hug from Dean. I’ve waited three years. I want my big, fierce, brotherly Dean-and-Cas man hug, dammit!

Yeah, it’s only a TV show. And the book you’re working on is only words on paper. We all know better. These are our babies. We create them, and if we’re lucky they develop a life and storyline of their own. They’ll tell us when it’s over. When the moment comes, you wave good-bye, wipe away the tears, then start a new file or get out a fresh notebook and give birth all over again. It’s the cycle of writing and the cycle of life, and it’s been working out okay since mankind first drew the story of the hunt on a cave wall. I’m sure Castiel would approve.

Paranormal TV: Supernatural

Today begins my year-long series of paranormal reviews. At least once a month, I'll talk about a paranormal/sci fi TV series or movie. Also each month, I'll do at least one paranormal book review. First up is my favorite TV show, Supernatural. It's actually kind of ironic that this is my favorite show since I'm a total chicken in real life. I hate things that go bump (or creak or whatever) in the night. And yet, that's exactly what the Winchester brothers, Dean and Sam, deal with each week. They are hunters of things that most people think are myth and legend and horror stories -- vampires, werewolves, women in white, witches, demons, you name it.

Like many good programs, Supernatural is split into two parts -- monster-of-the-week episodes and ones that feed into the overall mythology that connects Sam to demons (even though he's a good guy) and Dean to angels (even though he's the bad boy, though one of the good guys). We're not quite sure where this is going, and it keeps viewers on the edge of seats. The stakes get bigger with each season. I mean, seriously, Dean went to hell at the end of last season, and he's been dealing with the ramifications of that this season after being pulled out by an angel (of the warrior type) named Castiel, who I think has been a very interesting character addition.

So what makes a chicken like me love this show?

1. The brothers' relationship. It's loving, it's combative, it's strained, it's teasing, it's all the things a real brotherly relationship is like but with the added pressure of trying to save the world from demons and such. These two guys are constantly on the road fighting evil. They can't have real jobs, homes, or romantic relationships. All they have is each other. Oh, and...

2. Bobby. He's a crusty older hunter who was friends with the boys' dad, John. He's a flannel-wearing, ballcap-wearing, bearded guy who has a junkyard, a house full of hunter/paranormal resources, and lots of "don't be stupid" wisdom. I just love Bobby. If they ever kill him off, I'll just cry.

3. The big story arc. I want to know what's going to happen in this war between demons and angels, what's going to happen to my boy Sam (yes, I'm a Sammy girl in a world where most people are Dean girls), and whether the boys ever banish enough evil to have a normal life.

4. Quotes. OMG, this show is full of fantastic quotes, typically between Dean and Sam. While I love Sam, Dean is hysterical and has the best quotes. A sampling:

"I'm not going to die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot."

"It's like we got a contract on us. You think it's 'cause we're so awesome. I think it's 'cause we're so awesome."

Dean Winchester: [Sam points to a word carved into a telephone pole] Croatoan? Sam Winchester: Yeah. [Dean stares blankly.] Sam Winchester: Roanoke... lost colony... ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class? Dean Winchester: Yeah. Shot heard 'round the world, how bills become laws... Sam Winchester: That's not school; that's schoolhouse rock!

These are really funny when you know the characters, but I'm hoping they translate as funny to those who have not seen the show. Gasp!

5. The boys are hot. So shoot me -- both Dean and Sam are not hard to look at.

So, any Supernatural fans out there? What are your favorite parts of the show? Which brother do you prefer?