My daughter gave me this extra-large mug. This week, I’ve put an extra shot of whiskey in it.
It’s been quite a couple of weeks. First, there was the awesome visit to the new motorsports stadium at Daytona International Speedway, which included a breakfast with the nieces and grand-nieces, then it was back to work writing all but the last 20,000 words of The Dark Mage of Lotus Hall.
Alas, this replica of a Sprint Cup car doesn’t have an engine. photo copyright Corrina Lawson
Then things kinda hit the fan.
My publisher, Samhain, announced that it would be closing.
The pertinent parts to readers: all my books are still up on all sites. SamhainPublishing.com itself, Amazon, B&N, iTunes, Kobo. You can still buy them, though if you want a print copy, you may be out of luck there. They will be there for a little while longer, as Samhain doesn’t expect to close up shop for months yet.
What will happen next? The agent is handling getting my rights back and, damn, it feels good to have someone handling this for me. The head of Samhain Publishing sent out an email just yesterday, promising something hopeful coming and whether that means a cash infusion, takeover by a big publisher, or something more than that, I have no idea.
At this point, I want all my rights back, so I can choose the future of my stories but, who knows, by Friday, I might have changed my mind. In the meantime, those shots of whiskey in my tea at night have helped a great deal. It helps that I have 3 unpublished manuscripts to sell.
Also changing is the status of my non-fiction career. GeekMom.com is merging with GeekDad.com to create the premiere Geek Parenting site on the web. We’ll be fully integrated into GeekDad’s post feed but for those wishing for a GeekMom only experience, there will be a way to get that.
Plus, spiffy new site design for EVERYONE. ::tosses confetti::
Oh, hey, did I mention I’m going to Comic Con International in San Diego this summer for the first time ever! My press application was approved. Bucket list item to be checked off.
Welcome to the release day Five Past Midnight, a special boxed set from Samhain Publishing! I’m so proud to be a part of this with my fellow supernatural thriller authors. Each of our stories is unique, but I think you’ll find some elements in common: sexy and smart heroes, independent heroines, and action galore!
Below you’ll find excerpts from all the books but, first, the giveaway! This will run for a week and enter to win the entire digital set.
Now the sneak peaks! As you can read, I’m in excellent company.One of the fringe benefits of being in this box set is that I found four new authors to read.
From Veiled Target by Robin Bielman: Tess Damon had no intention of telling the man holding the gun to her head what she was capable of. If he believed he had the upper hand, maybe she’d get out of this alive.
She silently fought the knots in her stomach and gripped the leather safety straps hanging in the open lift gate of the small, private business jet. As she struggled to keep her footing against the howling gale-force wind, shivers raced up and down her body. The frigid temperature stole precious air from her lungs. Her eyes watered and her ears ached. Pressure from the gun barrel hurt right in that tension headache spot above her eye.
Her first time flying in an aircraft that combined the comfort of a Cessna with the functionality of a sky-diving plane wasn’t exactly working in her favor.
“When we started this date, I’d no idea of your true intentions,” shouted the sharp- toothed businessman over the painful air currents. “You were wrong to think I’d be easy to get rid of.”
Tess let a practiced smile slip over her lips. She might be wrong about a lot of things, but eliminating the vampire who’d killed dozens of innocent people using weapons—with delay and torment—because he hated to get his fangs or hands dirty, wasn’t one of them.
I hate after-midnight meetings. Anyone who wants to talk to a witch after the witching hour doesn’t want to chat about the weather, and my boss wouldn’t call this late unless something was wrong. Bad news should be heard after I’ve had a good night’s sleep and a cup of coffee, not after I’ve worked a ten-hour shift that featured lousy tips and three of the loudest screaming babies I’d ever encountered during my restaurant career. Already I wished I’d done the smart thing and hung up, turned off my cell phone, crawled into bed and hidden under the safety of the covers.
The anxious feeling in my gut made me indulge in my first cigarette in over a month as I left my apartment building. I’d dug the half-empty pack out of the bottom of a purse I hadn’t used since winter, and the cigarette tasted stale and bitter. This was my tenth failed attempt to quit—I’d have to remember to cuss Mac out for it first thing at this meeting of his, because it was clearly all his fault. Maxwell “Mac” MacInnes is my boss, the owner and manager of the Three Willows Café. He’s also my friend, and has been for several years now—one of the few I have left.
Though it was a warm, muggy summer night, the air outside was much more comfortable than my stuffy apartment. I puffed away on my smoke as I headed down the sidewalk, and the streetlight closest to my building flickered as the bulb exploded with a loud, angry pop. Feeling guilty, I ignored it and picked up my pace.
Most of the windows were dark in the houses I passed, the occupants fast asleep at this hour as they rested up for another day of work. My neighborhood is a nice place in general, though I don’t recommend walking through it alone at night, particularly if you’re a woman. Of course I don’t follow my own advice, but my case is…unique. Sure, I look as threatening as a grade-school librarian. I’m on the overweight side, I wear glasses, and my mouse-brown hair is most often pulled back into a messy braid or ponytail. My wardrobe consists of T-shirts, blue jeans, and unintimidating white running shoes. I might as well have “Mug me” stamped in the middle of my forehead.
“Just lie back and relax, asshole. I swear you won’t feel a thing.” Kara adjusted the bindings around the man’s wrists and plunged the syringe deep into his thigh. When the concoction started making its way through his veins, he bucked under Kara’s weight. She stood and put one boot heel against his throat to quiet him as the relaxant started taking effect. “How is she, Abbey?”
Abbey frowned and brushed her red hair out of her eyes. “She’s going to be all right, but I put a call in to 911. We need to hurry.”
Kara glanced at the man lying on the dirty pavement of the alley. His expensive slacks were around his ankles, and after all these years, it still struck Kara as odd that the assailants never fit a certain mold. She and Abbey had taken down everything from homeless men to men who drove hundred-thousand-dollar sports cars. Money didn’t matter, and it wasn’t for the sex.
These men wanted power over others. They got off on the degradation and the pain they inflicted.
“He’s ready for you. Let’s help this gentleman get in touch with his manners.”
Abbey tucked a coat around the unconscious victim, shielding her lower half from view of the police officers who would shortly be arriving on the scene. She rose to her feet and walked to Kara. “Don’t bruise his throat, Kare-bear. The knot you gave him with your elbow is bad enough. His temple looks like he got hit with a baseball bat, and we don’t want the police thinking he was the victim here.”
Jace had always suspected that someday someone would try to kill him. He just hadn’t expected it to be tonight. Especially not in some rundown bar that reeked of beer and unwashed flesh.
He should have, though. The place was ripe with negative energy, this evening more than usual. An undercurrent of violence permeated the air and resonated from the patrons. The tattooed lump of flesh who went by the name of Viper was no exception.
“Did you say something to me, bitch?” Viper shattered his beer bottle on the corner of the bar and approached him menacingly.
The biker didn’t resemble a snake. He was big and round and lumbered more than he slithered, but there was definitely something snakelike about him, a predatory gleam in his eyes that would warn any sane man to back off.
Sanity had never been one of Jace’s strong points. He had too much anger inside him, was sick and tired of seeing men like Viper terrorize everyone around them and get away with it. “I said, leave the guy alone,” he repeated, ignoring the broken bottle aimed at his throat.
Viper’s original target had been some lanky accountant-type, who’d walked into The Hangout—a renowned bikers’ bar—dressed in a goddamn suit. Then he’d added insult to injury by ordering a glass of Chardonnay. Smelling blood, Viper had come in for the kill, incessantly poking fun at the man and not allowing him to leave when the idiot realized the error of his ways.
Here’s Lucy/Noir’s first point of view chapter, chapter two in the book.
******************* Lucy wasn’t sure which was worse—that she couldn’t get Al to admit exactly how much of a dumbass he was being or that she was terrified of him being right.
At this point, she was shocked he’d ever unbent enough to have sex with her in the first place, with his talk of giving her space. He thought she’d change her mind about him. Now that this was real, a normal relationship, he was having trouble because he didn’t trust what she felt.
They were together because they had a connection, not because of any weird mess in her head. You’d think he’d know that.
At least, they had a connection when he was around. Okay, so maybe they had two issues. And he was using the second to cover up the real problem, which was he was terrified to truly commit. He made room for her in his place but not in his life, certainly not the way he lived it. He thought she’d walk so he kept her at arm’s length except in bed.
She drew in a deep breath, the cold air freezing her teeth. She wasn’t just hanging around the Double C for Al, as her parents seemed to think she was. She’d built something here, even if she couldn’t quite figure out how to square it with her old life. This was important.
Hanging around in that transient-artist place. Damn Al for saying that.
As she walked the final block, she pulled her fedora lower to stop the snow from dripping onto her face. She’d grown to like hats from her time in costume as Noir. She wore Noir’s black leather duster and boots too. Noir was a part of her. She had her name and most of her memories back but she didn’t completely feel like Lucy yet.
Were Lucy and Noir the same person?
The blast of air that heated her face the instant she walked inside the colony was a welcome break from that thought.
And then she laughed at the clashing holiday displays that had sprung up overnight in their little art collective. To one side sat a metal tree made of old car parts, strung with blue lights that reflected the chrome and steel, and topped with a Smurf. That had to be Cassandra’s doing. To the other side, there was a tree made totally of newspaper clippings. She stepped closer and realized all the clippings talked about atheism and the evils of religion and how even Christmas trees were pagan.
But in the middle? A traditional tree topped by a star, full of handmade paper ornaments. Was it revealing her normal suburban upbringing that she liked that one best? This was the first year she’d celebrated Christmas in a long time. Hell, it was the first Christmas she would even remember since she was seventeen.
Most of the time, I’m flailing about, trying to do multiple projects at once, juggling my kids, things that need doing around the house, and finding a small sliver of time to relax.
Making resolutions exhaust me because they tend to loom as yet more things that Must.Be.Done.
Instead, today, I’m going to take a look back and remind myself that I actually accomplished stuff in 2012 and that if I just keep my head down and cheerfully slog my way to greatness, this list next year will also remind me that, hey, I did stuff!
1. Cross that off the bucket list.
I wrote and had a comic story published, “The Promise,”a dream I’ve had since the first time I picked up a comic. This one was a long time coming, about four days, but so worth it that when I received the pages from my artist, the awesomely talented Cassandra James, I cried.
Page Two of "Promise"
2. GeekMom the blog and book.
A labor of love!
I never expected to be the author of a non-fiction book. I knew I loved blogging, so I was thrilled to be added in as a contributor to the GeekDad blog on Wired.Com. And spinning off GeekMom with my three co-editors, Kathy Ceceri, Natania Barron and Jenny Williams was a labor of love to give a voice to those who I felt strongly needed one.
So, yeah, this year, GeekMom accepted a contract to provide content to Wired.com, joining the GeekDad site!
Phoenix Legacy, the third story in the Phoenix Institute series and the direct sequel to Phoenix Rising, releases Tuesday, November 13. So, with PR, Luminous, and Legacy, I guess I’m officially a series writer.
You can see the official blurb in an earlier post but I thought a short except might showcase the book somewhat better. This is because I’m the type of reader who ignores those blurbs when in the bookstore and flips right to the book to check it out.
Philip Drake pulled into the entrance of the bland suburban New Jersey condominium development just as many of his neighbors were leaving on their morning commute.
Feeling perverse, he gunned the ’67 Charger, making more noise than necessary. He might live here but he’d never be one of them.He smiled as the Charger took the corner on a dime. Old, but not feeble. Like him.
Though the car looked its age, standing out, not in style anymore. Unlike him.
He had wanted to experiment with the limits of his newfound conscious healing ability. Instead, he’d de-aged his body to at least a decade younger. Days of trying to reverse the process had convinced him he was cursed to look like this for a long time. Maybe until he died, whenever that was.
He was too damn old and cynical to look under thirty.He’d never get his gray hair back. He would never grow old, either, at least not naturally. Still, given what he was, it was always possible someone might kill him in the meantime. That was a comforting thought.
The book will be available at my publisher, Samhain. Just follow the links on the title or the cover. It’s also available at Amazon for Kindle and B&N for the Nook too. I’ll be posting a few more excepts over the next few days leading up to Tuesday!
The creation of this story is unique because it was basically the result of a thread on Gail Simone’s forums at the Jinxworld website. I started,“Want to Write a Superhero Story?”, to encourage all the talented people on the forum to put their creative energy to work with the goal in mind to submit a story to Samhain Publishing’s call-out for superhero romance novellas.
I admit, when it came time to submit, I cheated.
I found a way to tie it into the Phoenix series and so I sent it to my regular Samhain editor instead of to the superhero romance anthology. Thankfully, Jennifer Miller liked it enough to buy it and, with the help of her editing, the story turned out great.
Yet the help of those on Gail’s forum was invaluable and I wanted to recognize them. So here’s the dedication:
To the posters of the Want to Write a Superhero Story? thread on the Gail Simone forums at Jinxworld. Thanks for your support and help and for keeping me going. You were an inspiration.
What’s the story about?
Well, there’s an official blurb and excerpt on my books page here (along with links to buy) and more at Samhain but I can tell you the desire to write this mainly came from my desire to write a Batman-type story. I’m pretty sure DC Comics is about to hand me a chance to do that.(If you’re read my criticism of how DC has handle outreach to the female audience, you probably know why. And there’s the fact I still have a lot to learn about comic scripting.
But I can write.
And just as it felt great to start my steampunk story and do a riff on Sherlock Holmes, it felt awesome to be creating my own urban landscape peopled with my own heroes. Noir seemed a perfect name for my heroine, a mysterious figure who is literally invisible and so decided to make dramatic use of black in her wardrobe. I picture her very much in the mold of the Shadow.
Lieutenant Aloysius James was inspired, naturally, by Gotham’s truest cop, Jim Gordon.
You wouldn't want to mess with this guy, would you? Art from http://doubleleaf.deviantart.com/gallery/
Al isn’t the same guy, however, though they both share a need to do the right thing, no matter what. For one, Al’s a lot less eloquent and more alone in the world.
Until Noir shows up and he’s not sure whether she needs to be arrested, helped or protected. He also finds the way she fills out the black leather more than a bit distracting.
Luckily, Al isn’t easily phased by Noir’s invisibility because he’s generally unflappable. It makes their eventual lovemaking a bit challenging but as Al says “who says all men need a visual?”
So I hope you’ll give Luminous a try. I’m very tempted, when I finish the full-length novels in the Phoenix Institute series, to return to their home in Charlton City and set the pair after corrupt cops, mutant bad guys and the occasional ordinary villains who can make life so difficult.
I’m not sure what to call that series yet. Noir doesn’t seem quite right. Crime and Shadows, perhaps.
Note: for those looking for the cast of Phoenix Rising, they’re mentioned at the end of Luminous. And they’ll return in full force in Phoenix Legacy in November.
When I was writing Phoenix Rising, I often used some famous comic book splash pages for inspiration, especially as my Alec Ramsey’s firestarting abilities start to go completely out of control near the end.
It worked in prose but I couldn’t stop wishing for George Perez or Marshall Rogers to appear in my home and illustrate it.
Which brings me to the contest. Answer this question in the comments below: what scene from your favorite book would you love to see drawn or illustrated, either in a comic or a poster?
A winner will be announced Monday morning and will be chosen by random number generator.
To set up the sequence:
Alec and the military-style assault team assigned to assist and protect him are chasing terrorists on the Newark docks. Problems arise when the terrorists begin escaping via tugboat. Alec’s trying to stop it with his telekinesis and a wall of fire.
The fire screamed at Alec, rolling into a ball of raging heat, wanting to consume what was in its path, more powerful than any fire he’d handled before. It wanted to incinerate the entire tug, including the bomb. But he had control. This is what he’d trained to do all his life.
He created a wall of fire on the far side of the tug, trying to make it retreat. More shouting. Again, Hans calmed the others down and the boat kept moving. Alec had to let some of the fire spin away, lest it hit the bomb. They’d called his bluff. Shit.
The tug chugged into the harbor, taking it farther from Alec’s range and closer to a big, shadowy shape out on the water. Another ship. No way he’d be able to stop the bigger ship if they loaded the bomb on it. Sweat poured down Alec’s neck and back. His breathing grew quicker, his eyesight blurrier from the smoke of the burning dock.
Hans was the calm one. Get him and the rest would panic. Alec broke off a small ball of fire from the flames above the tug and sent it crashing into Hans’ chest.Hans screamed, stumbled backwards and fell into the water. Steam hissed and was quickly snuffed by a wave.
The tug stopped moving, dead in the water. Yes!
A shadow fell over the tug. Their pickup. The transfer wasn’t at the docks like intelligence said, it would be on the water. Kowalski, who’d berated them for their mission questions, had been wrong. If Daz didn’t go after the CIA fuck, Alec would.Daz yelled out loud. Alec ignored it.
Daz’s voice buzzed in his ear from the radio. Alec tore off his helmet. Tears ran down his face from the smoke. His knees grew weak. The fire almost escaped from him, almost roared into the bomb. Dammit, I can control this. What was wrong with him? He knew better.
He dropped to his knees and pushed the fire back to the tug’s bridge. Another man was yelling now. Alec saw the face illuminated in the firelight and recognized Demeter, the fanatic. He should crisp him too, but if he let the fire go even a little, he’d lose it completely. Hell.
He raised a hand and created a roof of flame over the boat. There! Let them try to move the bomb with that there. He grinned, panic gone, and stood. He blinked and saw the flames around him had grown.They whispered to him, embraced him, until he was weightless, free, just like the fire. Nothing could hurt him, nothing could defeat him, especially not some second-rate terrorist cell.
I ’m busy, Daz.
Alec blinked and finally registered the twenty-foot wall of flames directly around him. The fire he’d created had joined with the flames from the sniper’s body and grown into an inferno. F-Team was trapped between the warehouse and a shipping container and the flames were closing in. They’d be incinerated.
In the distance, a horn sounded, close to the tug. Fuck! Daz yelled his name again, voice more desperate.
Okay, easy. Take control of both fires. He could finish the mission and save F-Team at the same time. Piece of cake.
He spun around and around in the flames encircling him, pushing them upward, away from F-Team, sending them into the sky, where they’d have no fuel and would sputter out on their own. The metal of the crane above twisted and buckled from the intense heat. His throat felt like dust. Heat enclosed him, baking his skin. He shouldn’t have made it so damn hot without realizing it. He knew better. What the hell was wrong with him?
He waved his hand. The flames around him started to sputter out. Good, F-Team was safe. The roof of flames above the tug disappeared.
No, shit, he didn’t mean those flames. He reached out with his TK toward the boat. He felt something fuzzy, like a figurative cotton ball in the air. He had no idea what the hell that was.
An explosion rocked the night air, splitting the tug in half. Alec fell face-forward to the dock. He spat out ashes, cursing. What had happened?The fire around him leapt high again, its flames a vivid blue color. He couldn’t have exploded the bomb on the tug—he’d been careful. So what the hell had done it?
He pushed himself up with his arms, bit his lip and the fire around him stole the air from his lungs and took control of him.He closed his eyes, joined the flames, felt them rise up around him, like he was flying high with it, flying to the water, flying to consume that big ship out there. Who needed control?
“A touch of the X-Men with a smattering of coming-of-age legend, Phoenix Rising certainly keeps the reader’s attention. Lawson effortlessly switches points-of-view, from Alec to Beth and back again…..”The edge-of-your-seat plot keeps the story rolling along
The publicity handbook says I should be doing all this *before* the book goes on sale but the weather and the power company that kept me in the dark for ten days had apparently never read the handbook.
So I thought I’d run a snippet for a few days this week, culminating in a contest/giveaway on Monday.
First up…Alec and Beth and their first kiss:
“I’m trying to get you to reconsider what you’ve been forced into doing for your entire life. There’s a whole world out there you haven’t seen.”
She walked over to the coffee table, reached down and brushed her fingertips over the gun. Her hand trembled. The gun lookedlike the same kind that her kidnappers had used, years ago. If he stayed with the Resource, Alec might become like those men, using any ends to justify the means.
“Hey! What’s with the nerves? Where’s my competent, no-nonsense counselor?”
The gun rose from the coffee table, floating in air. She turned and followed its flight. He snatched the gun out of midair with a smile and holstered it.
“See?” he said. “I control the guns, not the other way around.”
“And who controls you?”
His chest, Kevlar vest and all, rose and fell in a deep sigh. “I know someone in this room who’s trying to control me. What’s wrong, Beth?” He walked to her and lifted her chin with two fingers, his dark eyes crinkling around the edges.
“This is not a life you chose, this is a life that’s been imposed on you, from birth.”
“And?” His fingertips moved along her jaw, in a soft caress. I should move away. It feels too good. But he’ s listening.
“I’m scared. About this mission, about you being locked up inside the Resource forever.” Deathly afraid, so afraid her stomach felt like a heavy lump of coal. “There’s so much you don’t know about the Resource and about Lansing, so much you don’t understand. And you need to know it before it kills you.”
“Hey, I know Lansing can be a bastard. And that he’s overprotective and controlling. I’m working on it. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is my job.” Alec leaned closer to her face. “We can talk about that another time.”
“Do you really think there’s going to be another time?” Her voice rose, almost panicked now. She wasn’t getting through. “What if you get hurt tonight?”
“Look, this cell might have a dirty bomb. They need to be stopped, and I’m the one who can do it. I have to do this, right now.”
“Just that simple?”
“Yep. I walk away, people get hurt. I do my job, people are saved. That’s the deal, that’s my life. You analyze things too much.” He cupped her face in his hand. “But if it took this mission to find out you care, then good.”
She shuddered. Wrong, wrong, she shouldn’t let him touch her like this. Yet it felt like he touched her somewhere far deeper than her skin. A shiver, like the one from their first meeting, traveled from her neck to her toes, setting her nerves jangling. “This is wrong.”
“The mission isn’t wrong,” he said, misunderstanding her. “Relax.” His face was less than an inch from her lips and his breath fell on her cheek. Her skin felt inflamed, sensitive to the slightest movement of his hands.He kissed her.
His lips were softer than she had expected, tender, not at all like his casual, even macho, confidence. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling those strong muscles and pulling him against her, intensifying their contact, even as her mind screamed in protest. This is not what I came for!
Her body became enveloped in that strange energy, alive as never before. It was like the kiss had a second level, one which she responded to instinctively, creating a living connection between them. He drew her lips apart with his tongue, still tender, still allowing her the chance to back away. But she opened her mouth to him instead, her whole self consumed with wanting to touch him, her face flushed with desire. She grabbed the buckles of his body armor for balance, her equilibrium lost along with her reason.He crushed her against him, no longer tender, a bruising kiss demanding conquest. She allowed him full control, despite the buckles digging into her shoulder. He lifted her completely off her feet and brought her up to his eye level.
“Beth,” he breathed, brushing his lips against her neck before moving back to her mouth.
Her mind whirled, too lost to remember that she should stop him. She wanted him too much. The air heated up, warming them.
I’m pleased and psyched to announce the sales of my novella, Luminous, to Samhain Publishing!
I wrote this novella originally intending to submit it to the Samhain superhero romance anthology. The call for submissions gave me permission to play with any type of superhero story, so I went the urban crimefighter route.
I figured, it’s not like DC was going to give me Batman to write soon, so I might as well try my own version of Gotham City.
The hero is a police lieutenant, Aloysius James, who (I admit) was inspired by James Gordon of Batman: Year One.
The heroine is Noir, a woman who was turned completely invisible by a mad scientist trying to develop a cure for her monstrous brother. She’s dressed all in black. For comic fans, think of a female version of Cloak from Cloak and Dagger or DC’s The Shade.
Noir turns to Al for help in finding the scientist and the monster. Al agrees because he needs to rescue a young man taken from a brutal crime scene by the monster. Then they run around the city having adventures, being shot at, and bonding.
I’ll tell you, writing a sex scene where one character is invisible was a challenge but also a lot of fun.
The reason I didn’t submit this to the superhero anthology is that I realized at the end that I could tie it into the world of Phoenix Rising and the only Phoenix Institute books that I have planned. So I sent it instead to my editor at Samhain, the lovely and talented Jennifer Miller, and she offered a contract. It’ll be out in May of next year.
It seems I’m now officially a series writer. YAY!
In other news, I was checking on whether Phoenix Rising was up yet on the Samhain website. I thought it might be too early to be up as a “Coming Soon” because it’s not due until November 8th but there it is! It’s also up on Amazon, under the Kindle section.
And now I really have to finish the next book in the series. It’s coming along.