Bronwyn Green

The Corner of Quirky & Kinky

I’ve been remiss in keeping up with book news, so let me fix that.

First off, I’m delighted to share that I’ve gotten all of my rights back from previous publishers! As I go through and re-edit (and likely add to the stories) I’ll be republishing them. And I’ve already released the first of the returned books!

Amazon  *  Barnes & Noble  *  iBooks  *  Kobo

Another bit of exciting news is that Jessica Jarman, Jenny Trout, Kris Norris, and I have opened an Etsy shop! We’ve got signed and personalized books available! So, if there’s one you’ve been wanting, come check out Ladies of the Lake Books!

Oh! And I totally forgot to blog about this, too (I am truly the worst) but Rewritten tied with Nikki Sloane’s The Rivalry for first place in Passionate Ink’s Passionate Plume contest!!! 

And here’s my prettiful award from Passionate Ink!

 

I think that’s all the book news I’ve got for now. But, hopefully, there will be more later!

This month’s song fic is inspired by Rob Thomas’ I Think We’d Feel Good Together. Here are the lyrics and the video if you’d like to check them out.

When I was listening to this song, this earlier flash fic popped into my head. I don’t often connect flash fic shorts, but this one seems to work with this song. Here’s part one and part two.

 

Bailey glared at the back of Aaron’s head as he hogged her TV again playing on his fucking Playstation. The same Playstation she’d held hostage until he’d gotten her laptop and other stuff back from his asshole friend who’d stolen them.

Letting her best friend Allison’s little brother sublet her room while she was studying abroad was by far the worst decision Bailey had ever made. Followed closely by accidentally egging the hot upstairs neighbor’s car instead of Aaron’s. Her cheeks heated with humiliation just like they’d done every time she thought of Jack watching her egg his car instead of Aaron’s.

Ugh. Aaron. Allison couldn’t get back soon enough.

Bailey grabbed a throw pillow and whipped it at her temporary roommate’s head.

He yanked off his headphones and turned to scowl at her. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“Because I’m done listening to video games. I’d actually like to use my own TV.”

He grumbled under his breath but put away his gaming system while she cued up the next episode of the show she wanted to catch up on.

“You want  a beer?” he called form the kitchen?

He was actually offering her something of his? This was new. “Sure.”

Of course, when he came around the corner, he was also carrying the guac she’d just made and the chips she’d picked up to go with it. He handed her one of the bottles then flopped next to her on the couch and started shoveling guacamole into his face.

“This is really good.”

“Thanks,” she said flatly, pushing play on the remote.

“What are we watching?”

“A British period drama about inheritances and copper mining.”

He just stared blankly at her.

Ignoring him, she turned back to the television and focused on the drama unfolding on the screen instead of her recurrent fantasy of smothering Aaron in his sleep. As she focused on the growing tension between family members, he scooted closer to her. He’d probably finished his beer and was likely going for hers. But then, he draped his arm around her shoulders and began caressing her upper arm.

She paused the playback and slowly turned her head to look at him. “What. Are. You. Doing?” she bit out. He leaned in as if he was about to kiss her, but she placed her palm in the center of his chest to hold him back. “Seriously, Aaron. What the fuck?!”

“C’mon, Bai–I think we’d feel really good together.”

Her mouth dropped open briefly, but she snapped it shut as she shoved his arm away. Finally, she sputtered, “Did you just try to come on to me with a Rob Thomas song?! Is that what’s happening here?!” When he didn’t respond immediately, she snapped. “Get. Out.”

“What?”

“I said: Get. Out. Give me your key, and get the fuck out. You can come back later for your shit.”

“Bailey.” It was almost a whine. “You know I was just joking.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Where am I supposed to go?”

She held out her hand for the apartment key. “Not my problem.”

That’s it for me, today. Be sure to check out Siobhan’s story, too.

Hey everyone!

It’s been a while since I’ve done an author interview on the blog, but I’d love for you all to meet Kelsey Kingsley! She’s funny, adorable, and writes great contemporary romance. She graciously agreed to let me interview her, so we’ll start there, and move on to her new book which releases today!

 

What’s a typical day like for you?

I babysit my niece and nephew on most days, have riveting conversations with my cat, cook dinner, and write—all while listening to music.

 

When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

If I’m being totally honest, it’s never been something I ever really wanted to do. It’s always been more like a compulsion or a need, and honestly, even though I was always writing, I spent most of my early life hating myself for it. It wasn’t until I was in my early to mid-twenties that I learned to accept it for what it was, and I decided to write Holly Freakin’ Hughes.

 

What made you realize you wanted to write romance?

I’ve always written love stories, even before I understand that’s what I was doing. I wrote fan fiction when I was in elementary school, and the stories always had a romantic aspect to them. Of course there’s the stigma behind romance, especially back then, so I tried to steer away from it and write something more “sophisticated.” Then, a few years ago, I made my peace with it and realized there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to write stories that make other people happy.

 

What do you consider your greatest accomplishment?

Overcoming the fear of hitting ‘publish’ that first time. The fact that I could do that makes me feel as though I can do anything.

 

Do you have any collections?

Oh yeah. Nightmare Before Christmas everything, makeup, Funko Pop figures, perfume… To name a few. I’m pretty much a hoarder.

 

Do you have any hobbies?

Writing will always be considered my number one hobby. But I also read a lot, play video games, hula hoop, watch movies…

 

Do you have any bad habits?

I bite my nails and I’m pretty much a slob.

 

Do you have any pet peeves?

Uh, mouth/throat noises. Chewing, swallowing, drinking, coughing, but mostly chewing. Actually, my cat is drinking right now and it’s driving me nuts.

 

Are there any skills you’d like to learn?

Liquid eyeliner. I’d like to be better at that crap.

 

Which of your characters would you least want to take a road trip with, and why?

Robbie White. He’s a disgusting human being.

 

What are some of your writing goals?

Just to remain true to myself, to never bend to appease the masses, and to always put out what I believe to be quality work.

 

Who are your favorite book boyfriends?

JAMIE FRASER, but he’s really more of a book husband. I love Mark Carmelo from AM Johnson’s Breakaway and Angus Dombnull from Bronwyn Green’s Rewritten (no, really).

 

What are three of your best writing tips?

  1. To write first and foremost for myself.
  2. If the word/scene/whatever feels forced, it will read that way.
  3. After the first draft, leave it alone for at least a few days. Come back to it with a fresh mind.

What’s your favorite word?

Belligerent.

 

What’s your least favorite word?

Panties.

 

What’s your favorite curse word?

Fuck. It’s so fucking versatile.

 

What sound do you love?

Music.

 

What sound do you hate?

CHEWING.

 

Dog or cat person?

Cats forever, but dogs are cool too.

 

City or country?

Can I say suburbs?

 

Morning or night person?

NIGHT. God, I hate mornings.

 

Get things done early or procrastinate?

I work better under pressure. 😉

 

Introvert or extrovert?

Introverted as fuck.

 

What do you like best about writing?

Blurring the lines between myself and the characters. Losing track of time while I lose myself in the words.

 

What do you like least?

The periods of doubt.

 

Do you have a day job in addition to writing?

I babysit a couple wee children, but otherwise, no.

 

If you were a book, which book would you be and why?

Oh damn, that’s a good question. When I really think about it, I’d probably have to go with Lisey’s Story by Stephen King. Strong female lead, struggling with some hard issues. Beautiful love story. Sad words.

 

What was your favorite childhood book?

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. It’s still one of my favorites and I read it periodically.

 

Daisies and Devin is your most recent release. What can you tell us about it?  How did the idea come to you?

In a nutshell, Daisies & Devin is a slow burning friends-to-lovers, rock star romance. Honestly, it’s really more of a journey, spanning over the course of thirteen years, and it travels through some real, tough issues. The idea came to me through a compilation of things, but it mostly stemmed from wanting to pay tribute to the things and people that inspire me and wanting to accurately depict some difficult situations from my own life. I wrote the book for myself, so I know not everybody will resonate with it, but that’s fine. I fucking love it.

 

What do you like best about your hero?

His loyalty and selflessness.

 

What do you like best about your heroine?

Her vulnerability and heartache.

 

What other characters in your story are you especially fond of? Why?

Robbie White. He might actually be my favorite character I’ve ever written before. He’s very different for me—he’s disgusting and a true villain.

 

If you were to cast your book as a movie, who would you choose to play your characters?

I am drawing a complete blank on this one, lol.

 

What’s up next for you?

WELL! I have the fourth book in my Kinney Brothers series coming in the next couple of months. I’m working on writing the sequel to Holly Freakin’ Hughes, as well as a spin-off from Daisies & Devin (about one of the side characters, who will remain a secret for now). I’m going to start writing my “big project” for 2019 soon, and that book… I cannot fucking wait.

Want to know more about Kelsey? Of course, you do!

Facebook  *  Kelsey’s Facebook Group  *  Newsletter  *  Instagram  *  Twitter

Kelsey Kingsley is a writer of sarcastic, sexy, and sweet romance. She lives in New York with her family and a cat named Ethel. She believes everything can be solved with a donut and there is a song for every situation.

 

Everybody has a dream,

And mine could take me far.

Just me, and my voice,

A stage, and this guitar.

With patience and some luck,

I could see me, standing there.

But, that was before I met her-

The girl with the purple hair.

Enchanted by her beauty,

By her soul, and then, her eyes.

I saw the broken girl within,

And my dream became her life.

So, I found myself on a journey,

Of tragedy and letting go,

Of happiness and daisies,

Of serenades and Poe.

But no one taught us how to cope,

With life’s unpredictable scheme.

Still, I’m the hero in her story,

And she’s my only dream.

And here’s an excerpt from Daisies and Devin.

 

I saw purple.

I saw Kylie.

My biggest fan. My reason for everything, and swinging my guitar to my back, I took my last bit of energy and ran to the side of the stage. I reached into my guitar case and pulled out the daisy I had sent Richard to a florist for, and I ran back out to the edge of the stage and knelt.

Two security guards flanked her, arms outstretched to hold back the pressing force of those crazed women, and I smiled as I handed the flower to her.

“I love you!” she shouted, although I barely heard her over the thunder of fans.

Holy shit. I have fans.

“I love you too!” I shouted back, and as they pressed further against her, I made an effort at foolish heroism. I grabbed her hands, hoisting her onto the stage. One of the security guards glared at me, shaking his head, and I grimaced an apology, mouthing a “sorry.” His expression lightened as he waved a hand to send me on my way.

Kylie giggled on my arm. “He probably thinks I’m some groupie you just pulled out of the crowd.”

“Would he be wrong?” I laughed, my smile so wide, it ached.

I stopped moving when we reached the narrow hallway leading to the dressing room, and I picked her up, spinning around like some romantic movie love interest. Her arms held tight to my neck, our lips locked in a fairytale kiss, and I only pulled away when I felt the wet tears on my face.

She was crying, and I was shocked to find that, so was I.

Her palms pressed to my cheeks. “Oh my God, Devin,” she exhaled, her fingers pressing into my skin. “That was fucking incredible. I … oh God …” Her lips thrust against mine.

That kiss said everything that words couldn’t; her pride, her joy, her love. I felt it all, and I gave it back. Letting it flow through me as I held her tight.

Get your own copy of Daisies and Devin. 

The prompt will be bolded in the story. 

 

The PA system crackled as her voice rose, straining for the high notes, and I cringed as she went flat. I still couldn’t believe she’d commandeered the mic. This was a fucking neighborhood party–not the Garden. What was she even thinking. The song finished, and I thought maybe…maybe we could get out of here with people thinking she was just a bad impersonator. A wannabe.

But nope.

She had the DJ cue up another song.

The opening bars of “All I Want for Christmas” filled the muggy evening air, and the people around me groaned and began muttering. I mean, I got it. I really did. It was ninety-seven degrees, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t want to hear that song during the holidays, let alone, now.

The muttering became a murmur, and the murmur became angry shouts as the rooftop party crowd moved toward her. And she was oblivious. Like always.

Fuck. I was not getting paid enough for this job.

Shoving my way through the tightening, increasingly angry crowd, I ran for her. Catching sight of a raised handgun, I grabbed her around the waist and kept running. Her rings and bracelets snagged in my hair, pulling sharply, but I kept moving.

The sharp report of a weapon being fired, filled the air, and partygoers screamed. Another bullet whizzed past us as we reached the edge of the building. Letting our momentum carry us forward, I jumped, taking her with me.

The filthy water was a shock to my overheated skin as I went under. I hadn’t expected the Hudson to be that cold in the middle of August, but here we were, both of us overtaken by sudden shivering.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered. “Do you know who I am?”

Treading water, I glared at her. “I saved your life!” 

Her carefully applied makeup running down her face, she let loose a string of mostly incoherent expletives, then shrieked. “You pushed me off a building!” 

“Look, Mariah, I’m not the one who thought it would be a good idea to hog the karaoke machine and sing shitty Christmas songs in August. Learn to read a fucking room.”

That’s it for me, today. Be sure to check out Gwen’s story, too! 

 

Well-written dialogue is probably my favorite thing about both reading and writing. And it’s something all of my favorite authors have in common.

The best dialogue, IMO, is natural sounding–not just to the time period the story is set, but also to the characters themselves. Anyone who’s ever had me edit a book for them knows I’m a stickler for natural sounding dialogue.

This involves using contractions–no matter the time period. Spoiler alert: Humans have always been lazy. This goes double for language.

It also involves not overusing the characters’ names. Think about it, unless we’re trying to get someone’s attention or make a point, we’re not constantly using each other’s names in conversation.

Another thing that drives me nuts is lack of dialogue consistency. If an author has established a character as a tough-talking cop, she’s shouldn’t suddenly start sounding like she’s a Dowager Countess from a historical drama. One of the ways that character is established is through dialogue.

This is just a short highlight reel of the best and worst of dialogue. I have five related posts that I’ll share the links to if you’d like some hardcore ranting and examples of do’s and don’ts.

Ten Dialogue Commandments – Part 1

Ten Dialogue Commandments – Part 2

Ten Dialogue Commandments – Part 3

Ten Dialogue Commandments – Part 4

Ten Dialogue Commandments – Part 5

 

The late afternoon sun turned her hair into a fiery nimbus–a titian halo as she gracefully lifted her arms toward the summer sky, dancing to music only she could hear. Music he’d sent to her in a dream. Music that called to her–louder than the trees and flowers she was meant to tend. Louder than her mother’s voice–the voice who demanded her compliance, her servitude to the land.

Her dress, the color of ripening pomegranates, swirled around her ankles as she walked away from the snug, stone cottage nestled in the valley. With each step, the weather grew colder. The leaves around her changed from soft greens to vibrant golds, burgundies and oranges, flaming brightly against the painfully blue sky. She strode on. The sky faded as she drew closer to him. The blue, that once hurt to look at directly, darkened to a pewter gray as the leaves drifted from the trees, becoming dry and brittle before they even touched the ground.

He snorted. Her mother was in fine form today. The more the woman raged, the quicker the land died. His eyes on Demeter’s daughter, he knew it didn’t change anything. The woman could throw as many tantrums as she liked, but the girl, Persephone had clearly had enough. She’s been held hostage to the woman’s unfulfilled dreams for too long.

She drew her cloak more tightly around her shoulders as she continued to push forward, on her way, at last, to him. Sheep bleated in the distance. The overly sweet, sickly scent of rotting apples filled the air, clinging to everything. He wouldn’t be surprised if the sheep, looking for shelter from the buffeting winds, reeked of the decaying fruit.

Dark storm clouds roiled overhead, throwing needle-like raindrops to the earth. Icy wetness pelted his skin as he waiting, watching as she shivered under the onslaught. He’d warm her soon enough.

He was aware she could put a stop to this. If she went home, all would be forgiven as if it had never happened. He knew her mother well enough to realize the woman would simply pretend it had never occurred. Light and warmth would return to the land. He couldn’t let that  happen. Persephone deserved more than a life of being a captive in her own home. To have more than tending her mother’s gardens and fruit trees. Her mother might be content to cut herself off from physical contact, but he knew Persephone wasn’t.

She wanted things. Things she couldn’t even name. Dark things. Things that made her body ache with needs she couldn’t describe, let alone explain. Needs that kept her awake at night and distracted during the day. Needs that twisted her dreams into writhing, pulse-pounding visions of equal parts torment and ecstasy. Needs that became more pronounced every time she saw him. Needs that made her cross from the land of the living and into the dead.

He knew that. He knew because he’d sent her those, too.

 

That’s it for me this week. Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ stories. 

Sarah  *  Siobhan

This post is purposely a little vague–mostly because I’m in the beginning stages of this book, and because I’m Princess Pantsypants. But it’s MM and it’s going to be part of the Bound series. Here are some things that are inspiring me.

 

Be sure to check out behind the scenes of the other bloggers’ stories, too.

Jess  *  Siobhan

This month has just been weeeeiiiiiirrrrdddddd.

There’s been so much bizarre randomness, I’m having a hard time keeping up, and I lived it! But onward and upward and all that.

These were the goals I set for myself.

  • Finish all scheduled blog posts. (yep)
  • Finish all scheduled audio preps. (I will before Tuesday)
  • Finish all scheduled edits. (yep)
  • Finish and submit that short story. For real, this time. No…really. I am. (or…not. *sigh*)
  • Work on my new Bound book. (yes!)
  • Re-release my witch stories. (they’ll be out before the end of the month!)
  • Not beat myself up for not being where I’d like to be. (I’m…working on it.)

For August, I plan to:

  • Finish all scheduled blog posts.
  • Finish all scheduled audio preps. 
  • Finish all scheduled edits.
  • Finish and submit that short story. For real, this time, damnit!
  • Work on my new Bound book.
  • Pick up Jess Jarman in St. Ignace!
  • Meet Jessi Gage IRL
  • Work on two secret projects
  • Go to the book signing in Ypsilanti on August 4th
  • Finish sewing my donations to support the cat rescue that the book signing benefits
  • Have an awesome mini-retreat
  • Have a blast with Jess while she’s here

That’s it for me this month. What are you planning to get done? Be sure to check out Jess’ post, too!

Since this is my desert island list, I’m choosing to believe that my deserted island will be rife with fruit and fresh water. In no particular order, these are the things I’d want to have with me.

10.) An unlimited supply of SPF Vampire sunscreen.

9.) An unlimited supply of lip balm with SPF. (You may be noticing a trend here.)

8.) My iPad and some way to charge it so I can finally make it through my TBR pile.

7.) All of my knitting projects.

6.) All of my cross stitch projects. (I really hate being bored.)

5.) Journals and pens. (Gotta write)

4.) Something for shelter. (I suppose I should be a little practical, here. Except clearly not practical enough that I’m willing to come up with specifics.)

3.) Tea.

2.) A hammock.

1.) Aidan Turner. (What? Are you new here?)

Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ lists.

Gwen