Bronwyn Green

Brain Dump: What’s on your mind?

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July 6, 2016

So, this week’s post is supposed to be a brain dump of what’s on my mind. Considering my brain is an endless loop of dialogue snippets, song lyrics and half-remembered tasks, I can’t promise you a lot of cohesion. Or probably any, really.

Welp, here goes…

I just noticed that the cats are sleeping on the laundry that’s folded on the dining room table which means that they’ll probably have to be rewashed it because A.) it’s summer so the cats are shedding something fierce and B.) probably everyone in this house will continue to walk by the piles, oblivious to the fact that they need to put away their damn clothes.

I miss all my retreat people, and I want to be back up north with them. sigh

Take the bullets out your gun! The bullets out your gun! (What?) We move under cover and we move as one. Through the night, we have one shot to live another day. We cannot let a stray gunshot give us away. We will fight up close, seize the moment and stay in it. It’s either that or meet the business end of a bayonet. The code word is ‘Rochambeau’, dig me? (Rochambeau!) You have your orders now, go, man, go!

Remember I said there were endless song lyrics in my brain? That paragraph up above is proof. That’s part of Guns and Ships from Hamilton, and it’s been cycling through my head for days.

Oh…speaking of Hamilton, look what my son, Corwin, drew me for my birthday! I thought it turned out really well!

And while I was up north with no internet and very, very little cell phone coverage, my husband and one of my brothers got us tickets to see Hamilton in Chicago in March! It’ll be my one brother, his two kids, our sister, me, and my two kids. My husband tried to get a ticket, too, but they were selling out too quickly, so he decided to just get ours because he wanted to be sure we saw it. That, my friends, is true love.

True love reminds me that I’m really loving the story I’m working on and I can’t wait to share it with you. Now that my meds are no longer a nightmare and I’m not fighting through brain fog daily, writing is fun again! Yay for drugs that actually work!

Oh, I realize this has nothing to do with anything else (welcome to my head), but I decided to try keeping a bullet journal in addition to my planner. I’m not sure it’ll help me become more organized, but it might help me stay on track project-wise. This is my journal and my key. I don’t know if it’s going to help, but hope springs eternal and all that.

Also, I’m geeked because I’ve had this fabric for ages, and I finally got to use it.

Oh, and speaking of making things, I started a new sweater. Yes, I know I haven’t finished the last one, yet. And I know that I’ve not yet mastered socks, which I swear I will by the end of the year. But this sweater looks pretty simple and it’s a good portable project. It also doesn’t require five needles like the socks do. And as I learned on the way home from retreat, knitting with five needles while traveling in a car is not the cleverest thing I’ve ever attempted.

But here’s the sweater. I’m making it longer. And the sleeves will also be longer because those sleeves are dumb. And mine will have thumbholes. Because I really like thumbholes in my longsleeve things. Also, I will try not to walk around with that “Did you really just say that?” expression on my face like this model. Actually, that’s a lie. I’ll probably have that expression a lot.

Oh, and mine won’t be gray. I’m using this yarn. Yes, it’s Downton Abbey yarn. What of it? Mostly I just really liked the color, the weight, and the feel. Also? It was on sale.

And this is how far I am on it.

Angelicaaaaaaaaa.

Eliiiiiiiiiiza.

And Peggy!

See? More lyrics.

I need to go get some words written to stay on track. And I also need to make supper. And finish putting together my presentation for a writers group on Saturday. But, this has been a brain dump edition of this blog.

Gwen, Jessica, Paige, and Kris also wrote brain dump posts, so be sure to check out what’s rattling around in their heads.

Writers Retreat Wrapup

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July 5, 2016

My stress levels, so far this year, have been a bit on the high side, so I really, really needed this year’s writing retreat. Honestly, I think we’ve all been in super high stress mode. We all needed this break.

I didn’t get as much written as I would have liked, but I did get some written on my current story (and I’ve been writing ever since I got back) and planning progress was made on two super seekrit projects.

But more importantly than any of those things, I feel recharged and able to tackle the rest of the year. Many of the stressors in my life are still in play, but I feel better able to deal with them now that I’ve had a bit of a break.

So, I usually drive the first leg of the trip, and this is what was waiting for me when I opened the door to Jen’s car.

Yep. It’s Samantha. You may remember Jen’s heartwarming story of how she got Samantha. And you may also remember what we did to Samantha. Well, technically, Samantha got into all this trouble on her own because she’s made of evil. We just documented it.

But anyway, I opened up the driver’s side door, and there was Samantha. Waiting to cause trouble.

The drive was fun – but how can you not have fun when you’re in a car with Jenny Trout, Kayleigh Jones, and Kellie St. James? We sang along to a Disney songs, 80s songs and the entire Hamilton musical from beginning to end.

In Munising, (a quaint little town on the southern coast of Lake Superior that features several Lake Superior boat tours, my favorite pottery shop, and a Bigfoot statue that’s chained up so he can’t escape) we stopped at Wagner Falls.

Which was, as you can see, really pretty. And we also spotted a faery tree on the way out of the woods.

Near Christmas, (another tiny little Lake Superior coast town) Jen took us through Murder Woods (not its actual name but it looks like a great place to hide multiple bodies) to get to one of the most insanely gorgeous spots I’ve ever seen. And Michigan’s U.P. is full of insanely gorgeous spots.

Murder Woods was a barely a road. I mean, it was probably an old logging road in the early 1800s. And it’s so rutted and narrow that only one car can get through at a time going about 7 mph. If that. But…it was totally worth it! Look at this place!

Look at this gorgeousness! Despite the jolting trek through Murder Woods, it was completely and utterly worth it.

This was our view once we finally got to the house where we stay every year.

We were all so happy to see Norris and Jess. It had been two years since we’d seen Norris and nine and a half months since we’d seen Jess. And we all ended up with sore cheeks and stomachs from all the hysterical laughter.

See that monkey creeping over the top of the laptop? That’s Bobo. He was stalking me all week. I finally had to get a restraining order against him.

This was the night of the full moon.

A little sunset/cloudporn.

No trip to Calumet would be complete without a trip to our favorite yarn store, Camelot Dyeworks. And I, of course, got new yarn, and I’ve vowed to actually learn to make socks. In fact, I started them three fucking times on the way home. But I will persevere!

Oh…and while we were out to lunch one day, Samantha had a bit of a mishap involving the oven. It seems that Gee (the little rainbow guy) was just about done with Samantha’s shit.

And here’s our group shot from our last night there when we went out to supper. (From left to right: Kellie St. James, Jenny Trout (please note the jackalope on her shirt – Jess Jarman’s 3 year old niece named it “Satan”), Kayleigh Jones, Jess Jarman, me and Kris Norris is in the front.)

The week went by too fast – as usual. And I can’t wait to go up there, again.

Only 346 Days: 19 Hours: 27 Minutes: 13 Seconds.

SIGH

Flash Fiction #37 – Lightning Planet

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July 4, 2016

It’s another Photo Flash Fiction Monday. Being that it’s a holiday in the States, today, I’m not sure if anyone else will be posting. But here’s a quick short from me today.

“We’ve arrived, Captain. There are no signs of life.”

The intercom crackled, preceding his commanding officer’s response.”Are you sure we’re at the right coordinates?” she asked.

The ship lurched a bit, and he was forced to grab the console. The closer they got to the small, reddish planet, the more electromagnetic interference they experienced. “The coordinates check out, ma’am. But it’s possible that the location of distress signals we received were masked by the atmospheric interference.”

“Scan the rest of the system.”

He nodded. “Scanning.”

He glanced around the cabin of the third class battle cruiser. Everyone’s gaze was riveted to the huge central monitor where the readouts were scrolling.

“There!” the communications officer pointed at the screen. “Signs of life.”

“Stop the scan,” the captain ordered.

He paused the computer’s process as all of the crew members peered at the screen. There it was. The distress signal, though significantly weaker than it had been when they’d first encountered it, continued to project from the planet’s service.

“Set a course for that one. But approach cautiously. Remain cloaked.”

“Aye-aye.” After a quick jump through hyperspace, he maneuvered the ship into position, continuing to monitor the distress signal. As he studied the data, another signal on a different landmass illuminated on the screen–a tiny island to the east of the first landmass. Then another signal. And another.

“What is going on down there?” the communications offer murmured, seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

Images of abuses of the planet’s inhabitants scrolled across the screen, one right after another, though the majority of the distress signals focused on a few key figures.

The captain turned to him. “We have work to do. Continue to mask our location. Make it look as though the blasts came from the red planet behind us.” She turned to the weapons officer. “Arm the proton cannon.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

Punching several buttons, their commander brought up an image of an unpleasant-looking orange human with strange-looking yellow tufts rising from its head. The ship’s translator made the human’s hate-filled speech both understandable and horrifying.

“This is our first target,” she announced, her tone grim. “Set cannon to incinerate.”

That’s it for me, today. Happy Belated Canada Day to my Canadian friends! Happy 4th of July to my American friends! *cues up the Hamilton cast album* And Happy Treason Day to my British friends!

Abandoned Stories – Have them? What Happened?

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June 29, 2016

I think probably every author has stories they’ve abandoned. Either the stories weren’t working, the writers lost interest, or maybe the books were meant to be part of a series at a publishing house the author has chosen to not to associate with anymore. It happens.

I abandoned the first few stories that I wrote. I mean, they’re finished, but they’re abandoned. They’ll never see the light of day because they’re just that dreadful.

But, I don’t feel like they were a waste of time or anything. They were great learning experiences.

I learned that a story without conflict is boring as fuck. No – really. So insanely boring. Painfully boring.

I also learned the basics of realistic dialogue (which I’ll be giving presentation on to a local writers group, next month) big, black moments, point of view, and satisfying endings.

I also learned that super detailed outlines or plots are more of a hindrance than a help for me. I write better when I make it up as I go along.

Every story I write (or edit for someone else) teaches me something new.

I do have a few stories that I wouldn’t quite put in the abandoned category, but I also wouldn’t say I’m actively working on them, either. They’re stories I’ve set aside to finish at a later time. They’re started, but they’re not currently on my schedule, and unfortunately, that means they’ve dropped in priority. But they will get finished. Eventually.

That’s it from me this week, but be sure to check out Gwen’s post on her abandoned stories. Oh, and that photo at the top is an abandoned structure in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, right down the road from where we stay every year for our writing retreat. More pictures later in the week!

Introducing…Mira Stanley!

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June 27, 2016

Hey everyone! I’m always excited to share a new author and a new book, and I’ve got a great one here, today. It’s Mira Stanley, author of Good Girl – book one of the Dirty Minds series. I was lucky enough to get a chance to read an ARC of Good Girl, and it. is. great! Seriously! Be sure to check out the links below!

Good Girl - Ebook Small

I thought it would be fun to interview Mira and find out all about her. Because I’m basically nosy, and I figure everyone else is, too. (Oh, c’mon. Admit it. It’s not just me…)

What’s a typical day like for you?

Thanks for having me, Bronwyn! I’m super excited to spend my debut release day with you!

I’m super excited to have you here, too!

Let’s see, a typical day for me? Wake at 10, coffee and Eggs Benedict served poolside by my hairy-chested, foul-mouthed pool boy, mimosas until I say stop, swim a few laps to keep in shape… oh, did you mean real life?

Real life isn’t nearly as glamourous, but my kids, husband, mom, and dog keep things lively. I wear a lot of hats during my day. One of my favorites is “writer.” I’m rarely happier than when I’m concocting a steamy story.

Do you have any collections?

I don’t really collect anything, but I buy Strawberry Chap Stick in bulk. I love knowing if I need a dab of lip moisturizer, I can just grab a fresh tube out of my kitchen drawer.

bron_chapstick

Do you have any hobbies?

I love to crochet cute things for my kids. I attempt to make stylish things to wear myself, but that never quite works out the way I hope. Lopsided sweater, anyone? I’m about to start this mermaid tail for my daughter

bron_mermaid tail

Do you have any bad habits?

Is Candy Crush Soda a bad habit?

What’s your favorite curse word?

Twat. Any time I hear it said in a British accent, I can’t stop myself from giggling like a sixth grader.

Dog or cat person?

Dog. Cats are okay too, but I love writing with my buddy Cricket by my side. Indoor or out, he’s near me, cheering me on as I put my characters through the wringer.

bron_Cricket3

Awww! What a cutie!

City or country?

Country. I love the mountains all around us here in Seattle. My dream home would have a heated indoor lap pool where I could swim laps (only exercise I enjoy) and a view of the Cascades.

Coffee or tea?

Coffee. With hazelnut creamer and a little milk.

Morning or night person?

Is it weird that I don’t know. I like sleeping in, but occasionally, if I happen to wake up early, I love getting up to accomplish some things while the house is quiet. I can sometimes get away with this at night too. I suspect I’m whatever-time-of-day-I-can-be-alone person.

Ha! Testify!

Get things done early or procrastinate?

Oh, I never procrastinate. I can’t relax if I have tasks hanging over me. My motto is the same as Nike’s: Just Do It. Because when it’s done, I can sit on the couch or in the hammock and write. (If you ask my live-in mom, though, she’ll tell you I never put away my laundry. I guess I procrastinate with that.)

Introvert or extravert?

I can be social. I even enjoy it in small doses. But I recharge on alone time. With a smallish house and a close-knit family, alone time is kind of rare, so I grab any little quiet moments I can.

What do you like best about writing?

The sexy parts.

What do you like least?

Getting stuck plot-wise.

Do you have a day job in addition to writing?

Other than being a mom, no. I’m so blessed to be in a situation where I can do my job pretty much any time. I fit it in between making meals, cleaning, breaking up fist fights, being a chauffeur, and walking the dog. If I had to work outside the home, I can honestly say I would always be longing to be home. I’m a homebody and am happiest in my little domain.

Questions about the book.

Good Girl is the first part of a serialized erotic romance novel? What made you decide to go the serialized route for this story?

I envisioned a story about two characters who help each other live out their sexual fantasies. Originally, I wanted each novella in the Dirty Minds series to address one fantasy. But it turned into so much more than that!

What do you like best about Joe?

Joe is the bad boy so many women fantasize about, but he’s got a sensitive streak that surprises Kelly and poses challenges for her. I love that he’s a whole person, not just the owner of a dick that can make Kelly happy.

What do you like best about Kelly?

Kelly has some baggage relating to her religious upbringing. I love that she has distanced herself from her family so she can figure out her own convictions. She’s very brave to bring Joe into her life and ask him to help her experience things she’s only ever fantasized about. I wish I had been that brave when I was her age!

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

Joe’s roommate, Rico, is a panty-melting fireman who gets off on seducing women in relationships with other men. He’s charming, gorgeous, and likes to piss Joe off by flirting with Kelly. For some reason, he feels a need to point out he’s straight. Draw your own conclusions.

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

Joe’s tough. There are plenty of bald hot men, but Joe’s got this attitude I don’t see in a lot of celebrity photos. The closest I found is Miami Ink’s Ami James.

Kelly is easy. Blake Lively’s got that cute-sexy girl-next-door vibe I picture for Kelly.

bron_Kelly

As for Ricco…Whoo. *fans self* Just got lost in an image search for hot firefighters. This guy had me staring the longest. Let’s make him Rico.

bron_Rico

What’s up next for you?

More Dirty Minds!!! I’ve got a plan for the series and am already well into writing book2, Irresistible Jerk. I’m hoping to release the first three Dirty Minds novellas this summer and then take my time on the next seven.

I also write time-travel romance as Jessi Gage, and I’ve got fans asking for more Highlander. It’s fun balancing the two sides of my writing personality. I’ll also have another Highlander book coming out late this year, so I’ve got my writing work cut out for me!

Here’s a peek at the blurb for Good Girl!

A kinky bastard seduces a good girl…and gets in over his head

Joe has always liked his sex dirty, but the messier his life gets, the more he craves someone sweet to balance out his darkness. He sets his sights on wholesome Kelly. Unlike any other woman he’s dated, she says crazy things like “please” and “sorry,” and she asks about his day like she cares.

Just when he starts to believe he could tone down his bedroom habits enough to have a relationship with her, she pulls the “friends with benefits” card. He’s good enough to sleep with but not good enough to be her boyfriend. No stranger to casual sex, he should be comfortable with the arrangement, but he can’t help wanting more with his sunshine girl.

And the buy links!

And we can’t forget Mira’s bio.

Mira dreams of a life where hairy-chested, foul-mouthed pool men serve cocktails while she reads in the embrace of a shady hammock. Her reality looks more like errands, carpooling, sneaking in writing time when she can, and snuggling with her husband and kids after a regular-old day in the Pacific Northwest.

Sex is sacred. It’s also fun. That’s why Mira writes smut with feeling. In her perfect world, every woman who wants it would have access to entertaining, titillating, thought-provoking stories in an environment free of shame.

I especially love the emphasis on “free of shame”! You’re my kinda girl!

Mira Stanley links

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Thanks so much for having me, Bronwyn! It’s been so great getting to know you this year. Your books are definitely part of my inspiration!

You’re so welcome, hon! You’re awesome, and I’m so happy we connected! And thank you! That totally makes my day!

I highly encourage everyone to go check out Good Girl by Mira Stanley! You won’t be sorry!

We Now Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Blog Post

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June 22, 2016

So…yeah…about this week’s blog post…it’s not happening. I’m currently 521 miles from home on our annual writing retreat with Jessica Jarman, Jenny Trout, Kris Norris, Kayleigh Jones, and Kellie St. James. We’ve run away to the land of no internet connection and sketchy to no cell phone service.

However, we’ll be getting a lot of writing done and enjoying Lake Superior, one of my favorite places on the planet, eating Monk Muffins, and laughing our asses off. I promise to post an update when I get back!

But for now, this is my current view.

Flash Fiction #36 – Little Heaven

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June 20, 2016

This month’s song fic is Little Heaven by Toad the Wet Sprocket. Two summers ago, the wonderful Kayleigh Jones and I went to Detroit to see one of our bucket list concerts – Counting Crows. (Laugh if you want, I will always love them – unapologetically.) And Toad opened for them, so that was especially awesome. Happily, both bands still sounded fantastic.

But I digress. Here are the lyrics to Little Heaven. And here’s the video. And here’s what’s likely to be a very, very short story.

Emily slammed the cupboard door, listening to the satisfying rattle of glassware inside.

Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she turned and her heart momentarily leapt into her throat at the sight of the dark hooded figure looming in the doorway.

“The fire had come,” he intoned. “Not for the end of days. Not for the faithless ones.
Not for vision understood. Burns because it has to burn.”

“Seriously, Cody?! Just do your fucking chores like mom asked. I’m sick of picking up your slack.”

“I am a dark mage. Come to burn all.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Just vacuum the living room.”

He raised his extended arms in her direction. “I am a dark mage. Come to–“

“Fine. You’re a dark mage. A home schooled dark mage. Just fucking vacuum, already.

See? Short!

Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ stories by clicking their names. Kayleigh, Kris, and Jess.

Nostalgic Notes: Clothes

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June 15, 2016

Dictionary.com com defines nostalgic as: experiencing or exhibiting nostalgia, a sentimental or wistful yearningfor the happiness felt in a former place, time, or situation.

Now, these pictures I’m about to show you are less about nostalgia and more about, sweet jesus, mom – what the hell were you thinking?!

My childhood seems to have involved an inordinate amount of plaid. And not even good plaid.

Welcome to my nightmare, dear reader.

First up, is this hideous pink and blue number.

Oh look. More plaid. And ukuleles. And possibly my cousin Howie. Clearly, I knew well enough to hide under this table while wearing this ensemble.

Not plaid, but…yeah. So this is a thing that happened. However, my Aunt Malita looks freaking fab in that Twiggy sort of way – so there’s that.

Okay, so this little hand knitted green dress isn’t terrible.

Okay, so I’m not in plaid, here. But my brother is. I can only assume my mom made some sort of plaid-related pact with a crossroads demon, and one of us had to be in plaid at all times. Also, check those orthopedic saddle shoes. Nothing says carefree summer fun like saddle shoes.

But what’s this? MORE PLAID. (I feel like my demonic expression is directly linked to the amount of questionable plaid in my life.

Plaid mini-kilt? Check.

Oversized uglyass hat? Check.

(No, really, mom. What were you people thinking?)

Looking at this picture, you might be lulled into a false sense of plaidless security, like I was.

But nope. Pink and aqua plaid pants. Who does that to a child?!

Monsters. That’s who.

Also, I think that’s my cousin’s creepyass Mrs. Beasley doll reaching for me in the lower right hand corner. I think we can all agree that this was a near miss.

No plaid here, but I think we can all agree that these horrendous gold and green floral pants are even worse.

At this point, you can’t possibly be surprised by the hideousness of these pants. And do be sure to notice my uncle’s girlfriend’s coordinating plaid maxi dress. I assume Rosie picked out her own clothes and wore that on purpose.

This tour of my fashion challenged childhood was brought to you by the letter “P” for plaid (obviously) and the number “7” for seven hideous plaids (“8” if you count Rosie’s.).

Be sure to check out Jessica and Gwen’s posts. Hopefully, their parents were kinder.

So…this happened.

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June 13, 2016

My baby, Corwin, graduated from high school this year, and we just had his graduation party. One of my SILs made his cake and suggested that Corwin come up with the artwork instead of going with something generic.

Behold…my favorite graduation cake ever!

See? Looks just like him.

Promptly Penned: How Long?

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June 8, 2016

Prompt:

Person A: “How long have you been standing there?”

Person B: “Longer than you’d like.”

Bailey was done. Three-thousand and twelve percent done.

Somehow, doing a favor for her best friend, Allison, had translated into letting her asshole brother sublet Al’s room while she was traipsing around Paris. Okay, so she was studying abroad, but Bailey knew her BFF. If Allison was in Paris, there was a metric fuckton of traipsing going on.

It was supposed to be the perfect solution. Aaron would make up for Al’s share of the rent, help with the yardwork, and split the utilities. Instead, he ate her food, had his creepy friends over constantly, stayed up gaming all night, slept all day and hadn’t paid a single bill.

And she’d just gotten home from grocery shopping to find out that one of his loser friends had stolen her laptop, TV, and DVD player. She yanked the two dozen eggs she’d been planning on making quiches with for her mom’s brunch from the shopping bag and stormed outside. Flipping open the polystyrene lid, she grabbed an egg and hurled it at Aaron’s shitty, blue, Dodge Neon. It landed with a satisfying splat. She snagged another egg and threw that one, too. It dripped satisfyingly down the inside of the window that had been left open a crack.

Bailey circled the car and launched egg after egg at it. It was a hot, sunny day. Hopefully, the egg would bake onto the vehicle and smell like ass every time Aaron drove it. She glanced down at the nearly second nearly-empty carton and tried to decide where to land the last for the most damage possible.

Egg in hand, she turned, gasping when she saw her upstairs neighbor, Jack, watching her. Her insanely hot, upstairs neighbor, Jack. Startled, she bobbled the egg in her hand, dropping it, but he bent and caught it before it hit her bare foot.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, her cheeks heating uncomfortably.

“Probably longer than you’d like.” He handed her the egg he’d caught and pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the driver’s side door of the egg-splattered car.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Opening the door, he met her gaze over the roof. “I was going to class, but clearly, I’m gonna have to hit a car wash, first.”

“But…” Her hand dropped limply to her side.

He simply pointed at a slightly shittier, blue Dodge Neon parked across the street.

Welp, that’s it for me, today. Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ posts.