Bronwyn Green

Seriously?!? AGAIN?!?!?

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July 21, 2010

It’s official.

I’ve had it.

I’m done with cars.

I’m done with tires.

I woke up this morning to my FIFTH flat tire in two weeks.

Yes, that’s 5 flats in 2 weeks. And 6 since the first week of June.

All nails and screws.

I don’t even know how this is possible.

What rubber loving gods did I piss off?

Was I a racing fan in past life, and now that I’ve shunned all things NASCAR in my current life I’m doomed to be punished?

I’ve even wondered if I’ve pissed off the neighbors, but there are no nails behind my garage or in front of my house.

Is the Universe trying to tell me something? (Besides don’t drive over nails?) If so, I have no freaking clue what it is.

Thoughts?

Comments?

Apocalyptic prophesies?

As a lot of you know, I love me some faeries. I’m not big on the fluffy, glittery types that grant wishes – I’m more about the darker types who would just as soon kiss you as curse you – perhaps in the same breath.

A new collection of faery stories has been released from TEB – my new book, Moonlit Menage along with awesome stories from Charlotte Stein, Jessica Jarman and Rachel Randall are out today!

Here’s the blurb:

Moonlit Menage – Book Three in the Celtic Fire Series

American grad student, Brontë Matthews, travelled to Wales to study at the elite Bren Gwyrdd Music Conservatory, but life on the secluded campus isn’t what she expected. She quickly becomes friends with Quillen Davies and Tarran Ashe, and finds herself attracted to both. Even more troubling, an eerie melody repeatedly pulls her from sleep. When she follows, she finds herself in trouble and in the arms of her friends, the men who’ve haunted her daydreams.

Crown Princes of the Seelie and Unseelie Faery courts, Quill and Tarran know Brontë is marked for sacrifice by the bloodthirsty factions of their people. By Sidhe tradition, human blood must be spilled to bind their reign, but Quill and Tarran know there must be a way to save the woman they love. They only hope they can find it in time.

And here’s an excerpt:

Quill watched as Brontë disappeared down the light-dappled path that led back towards the campus. At least in the daylight she’d be safe to wander the woods, and after dark, he hoped she’d stay locked in her living quarters. He continued to stare after her. The sun created a nimbus of her shoulder-length red hair and her pale skin practically glowed, begging for his touch. His fingers itched to caress her bare legs beneath the hem of her skirt. “She doesn’t believe us,” he muttered.

“Got all that from that clusterfuck of a conversation, did you?” Tarran rolled his eyes.

“Well, it’s not like we can tell her the truth.” He sighed and laid back on the sun-warmed grass.

“None of this would even be an issue if you’d come back to court already.”

“I’m aware,” Quill snapped. “In fact, it would be even less of an issue if I’d never left in the first place, right?”

“Your words. Not mine.”

“I’ve heard you think them often enough.”

“Why? That’s what I want to know more than anything. What is your fascination with the humans?” Quill opened his mouth, but Tarran held up his hand, momentarily stalling his answer. “I understand your attraction to Brontë. She’s different than the others, but I just don’t get what you see in the rest of them.”

Quill opened his mouth again, but Tarran was nowhere near done.

“Seriously—they’re destroying the planet, polluting earth, sky and water, killing or mutating natural life everywhere.”

Quill sighed. He’d heard it all before. “Finished?”

“Not remotely.” Tarran barely took a breath before starting in again. “They haven’t a care for anything save their own petty needs.”

“And the Sidhe are so different?” Quill bit out. “Seelie…Unseelie…self-centred narcissists, the whole lot of them.”

“Don’t forget, you’re every bit as fey as the rest of us, and sooner or later, you need to return. Time is running out. The Solstice is almost upon us.”

Quill closed his eyes and let the sun beat down on him. Slowing his breathing, he tuned into the quiet rhythmic pulse of the earth beneath him. The insistent thrumming repeated Tarran’s message. Time was short. He was needed in his own realm. If he didn’t return for the coronation, chaos would ensue. Both the Seelie and Unseelie Courts needed their rulers to maintain any semblance of order. He had no desire to go back, to be yoked by the crown. Worst of all, the crowning required a sacrifice. A human sacrifice. And he was pretty sure he knew whom the faeries had chosen.

Reading his mind, Tarran asked, “You know where this is all leading, right?” Quill glanced at the other man who stared off in the direction Brontë had taken.

“I won’t let it happen.”

“What?”

Quill sat up and glared at his sometime friend. “The Sidhe can take me, crown me, use me, but I won’t let them have her.”

Tarran’s head whipped around. “You don’t have a choice. You can’t stop it.”

“Watch me.”

I got a nifty award!

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July 15, 2010

The lovely Lisabet Sarai gave me the Versatile Blogger Award! The rules are that I need to pick some people and we all have to list things about us that few people know. So…here we go.

Ten Bron-Type Surprises.

1. I haven’t worn nail polish since I came across a cadaver wearing the same color.

2. Over the last 15 years, I’ve placed 42 cats and 3 dogs in adoptive homes.

3. I used to make themed wedding and bridal party dresses including medieval and western…there was fringe involved. Also, instituted the use of the “bitch fee” for some of those people.

4. I keep lip balm in 9 separate places in my house and car (purse, dashboard, next to the couch, bedside stand, desk, medicine cabinet, sewing machine cabinet, coffee table and bookshelf) and almost all get used every day.

5. I was once paid to read Tarot cards at a convention.

6. I haven’t worn pantyhose since high school graduation.

7. I’ve been in eleven car accidents, but only one was my fault.

8. I made my own drum, and I like to play in drum circles.

9. Sister Rosine made me stand up and tell the class that I was the “Bride of Satan” because I wore bright red nail polish and matching sweater one day. She was way old school. And also batshit crazy.

10. Once had an entire subway car full of New Yorkers cheer for me. It was a banner day…

Okay, now I’m going to nominate my versatile bloggers, and hopefully, they’ll play along and share some little known facts about themselves.

Chaos Chris
Erotic Romance Reader Janna
Brynn Paulin
Jennifer Armintrout
Dakota Rebel
Mia Watts
Jessica Jarman
Kris Norris
Kim Dare

Driver’s Ed Is Kicking My Ass

Bronwyn

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July 13, 2010

I’ve been a bad, bad, very bad blogger. My oldest son is taking driver’s ed. I signed him up for a program at the suggestion of a friend and because this particular program requires parental interaction. Normally, I think parental interaction is a fine idea. I prefer to be involved if for nothing else finding out what techniques are being used and how I can best help my son when he’s not in class.

Oh, if I only known how much interaction it required before I’d paid my four hundred bucks.

So far, I’ve taken several written tests and a driving test. I’ve been quizzed, I’ve watched movies (cried during the ones where kids died and I had to watch other parents’ anguish), sat through endless hours of class, rode along while Killian drove and tomorrow is the state test. Hope I pass…

Ultimately, if it makes my kid a better driver, I’m willing to fall on this particular grenade. I’ll bitch about it, of course, for that is what I do. But on the chance that it’ll make a difference, I’m okay with it.

But now, there’s this.

Thursday is the Driver’s Ed Potluck. Seriously?!? It’s not enough that I attended every class, took every test, incorporated every rule, but now they want me to cook for them?!?

What pisses me off more than anything, is that one of the other kids in this class stole my beautiful, precious iphone from my (unzipped) purse. I know, stupid me for leaving it unzipped, but I never would have thought anyone would be that ballsy. I was wrong, and I’m out an iphone. The last thing I want to do is feed the entitled little shit who helped him/herself to my phone.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Someone and Something Really Special

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July 5, 2010

Almost two year ago, I had the extreme pleasure of meeting someone really special, my friend Kim. A lot of you may know Kim as one of the hardest working writers in erotic romance. Since August of 2008, she’s had 26 books published by Total-e-bound, 4 freebie stories, also with TEB and three (soon to be four) with Resplendence Publishing. Not only is she prolific, she writes damn good stories with amazing characters.

In addition, to being one of my favorite writers and people, she’s also one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. She’s wickedly funny and I consider myself lucky to call her a friend.

She’s doing something really special this month that I’d like to share with you. All of the proceeds from her newest release, Gay Friendly, (web site and third party sales) are going to support an amazing charity – Ty Hafan – a childrens’ hospice in near her home in Wales. This organization provides respite and end of life care for children under the age of nineteen.

I believe the death of a child is the single most agonizing experience a parent can have. And how awful is it to be a child and know that you might not make it to your next birthday? Ty Hafan supports these kids and their families.

Like I mentioned earlier, all of the proceeds for Kim’s latest release are going to a good cause, so head over to TEB and pick up your very own copy.

Gay Friendly by Kim Dare

Book nine in the G-A-Y Series

Ellis thought a gay friendly hotel sounded nice. He didn’t realise just how friendly the men there would be…

Ellis is gay and out – technically at least. Unfortunately the only other gay man he’s acquainted with is his cousin Harry. When he suddenly gets the chance to visit a gay friendly hotel with his cousin, in exchange for paying his share of the petrol money, he assumes the impromptu holiday will be a nice gentle way to ease his way into gay society before he starts university in September.

Dominant Mitchell Thompson has fond memories of the hotel where he came out almost two decades ago. He returns there every year, and always finds it to be exactly the same unashamedly kinky hook-up party it has always been. When he stumbles across a sweet little novice who’s obviously way out of his depth at the resort, his trip down memory lane suddenly becomes far more interesting.

zOMG Look What I Found!!!!

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June 22, 2010

Yesterday, I was having a conversation with Brynn and she pointed out that I need to remember to do nice things for myself. Well, on the way home from paying our property taxes and being a little cranky about it, I saw a sign for an estate sale. I swear Squishy (my car) had a mind of her own. She followed the signs to this turn of the century brick house I’ve been lusting after for quite some time.

I was thrilled because I was finally going to get a chance to see the inside of this place, so of course I went in. Besides, I love estate sales. While I was checking out the house, I saw it. The chair. The chair of my dreams. It was like a light shone down from the heavens bathing the chair in a ethereal golden glow. Of course, that could have been because it was a sunny day and the chair was in front of the window, but I digress.

I’m pretty sure the little old lady running the sale knew she had me as soon as I walked into the room. She was totally right, of course, because look what I have in my living room!!!! (I also managed to talk her down quite a bit, too!!!!) It’s so comfortable, really sturdy and in fabulous shape.

Herne approves of the new chair. This isn’t the original upholstery which is good, since judging from the age of the chair, I’m guessing it would have been covered in mohair. Having spent much of my childhood in a house with mohair furniture, I’m thrilled that this is a cotton based fabric. As a bonus, it’s in colors I like and that look perfect in my living room!

The carving on the back sold me. She reminds me of a cross between a Waterhouse model, a Rackham model and a Banshee. The boys have already started calling it the Banshee chair.

This is a closer view of her. I absolutely love old furniture. We have a lot of pieces that we’ve inherited or picked up at estate sales or rescued from houses that were about to be destroyed. Now we’ve gotten rid of the living room chair that was falling apart and I did something nice for myself. Thanks, Brynn. 😉

In Honor of Father’s Day

Bronwyn

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June 18, 2010

My Dad and I haven’t always gotten along. We’ve butted heads a lot over the years. He hasn’t been a perfect father, but we’re well matched – I haven’t always been the perfect kid, either. But I’ve come to realize that he’s always done the best he could and he’s always tried. In some ways, I think that’s more important than perfection. Last year, I wrote a tribute piece for my Dad in honor of his retirement party. Since Father’s Day is coming up, I thought I’d re-post it.

Over the years I’ve learned a lot of things from my dad – for instance, if you want to get a malfunctioning boat motor to work better, you swear at it. A lot. For the record, this also works for computers and sewing machines. I can’t tell you how often I’ve cursed out a piece of machinery while fondly remembering childhood fishing trips.

In addition to a really colorful vocabulary, I’ve learned some others things from him along the way. Like most important things in life, those bits of wisdom didn’t come with flashing neon arrows pointing to them and signs that said, “Hey dumbass, this is important. Pay attention.” These bits of wisdom arrived in everyday conversion, and in true to cliché fashion, I didn’t realize I was learning anything until much later.

Every summer, Dad would take me, Tim and Grandma on a week-long fishing trip to Boot Lake in the UP. Inevitably, Tim would cast his line over Grandma’s, trying to fish where she was because she was catching them and he wasn’t. Dad always said the same thing. “Fish can swim.”

At the time, I remember thinking, “Well yeah…they’re fish. That’s kinda what they do,” and completely missing the point. Fishing requires work and patience. A lot of patience, but the end result is usually worth it – much like anything else worth doing. If you give up before you’re finished with something, you never know the satisfaction of having completed it. If you take too many shortcuts, you’re likely to miss out on something important. So yeah – fish can swim – be patient and enjoy the journey while you’re waiting for them to bite. Your time will come.

I was once asked about the most memorable piece of advice I’d ever gotten from my Dad. I didn’t have to think hard or long – it just popped into my head. “You can always use a good piece of rope.” The person looked at me like I was insane – in fact, she said, “What the hell kind of advice is that.”

I can’t tell you how often I heard that phrase growing up – probably because there was always something that needed tying down or fixing. I’m positive that there were plenty of times he would have liked to tie down us kids.

This past winter the lock on my trunk froze and I couldn’t close the stupid thing. I couldn’t drive with it unlatched, because it kept flying up and obscuring my vision. I wished I’d had a good piece of rope. Instead, the only thing I could find was a lousy piece of lavender embroidery floss and let me tell you, even quadrupled, it doesn’t come close to a good piece of rope.

As I stood there in the freezing sleet, I realized several things. A.) Dad was right – you really always can use a good piece of rope. B.) The good piece of rope is just about the perfect metaphor – with the right tools for the job, you can pretty much accomplish anything.

My dad has almost always had the right tools for the job and if he didn’t, he knew who he could barrow them from. Most importantly he always got the job done. Now Dad, it’s your job is to relax and let the fish swim. However, it’s probably a good idea to keep a good piece of rope handy.

Riding in Cars with Boys – Part Six

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June 15, 2010

Well the school year is over – thankfully! I thought I’d only have one more Riding in Cars With Boys posts, but I actually have two! YAY!

A few weeks before Prom, we passed a burgundy minivan covered with white paint. It said, Will you go to Prom with me? Answer on my car.”

Justin: Well that’s just stupid.

Me: I dunno. It’s kinda sweet.

Justin: No it’s not, and here’s why. What if she doesn’t know who asked her?

Killian: Or doesn’t know which car is his?

Not-Kevin: Or doesn’t have paint to write her answer?

Justin: Meh. She could always scratch in her answer with her key.

Killian: That would suck if she got the wrong car.

Justin: If I were gonna ask a girl to Prom like that, I’d sit on the roof of my van and it would have a sail made out of a bed sheet and one of those poles, like a on a ship.

Killian: You mean a mast?

(I’m sure you can feel the sarcasm from there)

Justin: Yeah. A mast. And one of those wooden steering wheels.

Killian: Uh…a helm?

Justin: I don’t know – is that what it’s called?

Killian: Yeah.

Justin: How do you even know that stuff?

Killian: I’m not stupid. Besides…Pirates. It’s important to know stuff about them.

Justin: Touche.

Mitchell: Seriously, dude. Even I know that.

Not-Kevin: You know, if we were pirates, we could sail to Girl Island.

Me: Girl Island?

Killian: It’s a magical place.

Justin: A magical place full of hot girls who love nerds.

Not-Kevin: I want to sail there.

Me: I have news for you. Girl Island is called college.

Boys: Ohhhhhhhhhhh

After we dropped off Not-Kevin, the overly sweet scent of strawberries wafted through the car.

Justin: (sniffing frantically) What is that smell? I smell strawberries!

Killian: OhMyGod I want strawberries so bad. Can we get strawberries? Now?

Justin: Seriously! Where’s it coming from?

Mitchell: (Sheepishly holding out a tube of lip balm) My lips are cracked.

Justin: (Looking from Mitchell to Killian and finally back to Mitchell with an expression of sheer incredulousness.) Dude…you’re a chick!

Last week, they had final exams, and they all piled into the car bitching about how lame their exams were. Apparently long doesn’t equal challenging. Except for Mitchell. He insisted that all of his were hard.

Not-Kevin: Wanna know what I hate?

Me: Absolutely.

Not-Kevin: Skanks.

Me: What’s up with the skanks?

Not-Kevin: I hate the way that they think that because they’re pretty that entitles them to cheat off my test. I don’t exist for the entire year and because they smile at me and flash some cleavage I’m supposed to share my answers. I think not.

Killian: Lindsey? She drives me nuts. I can’t stand the sound of her voice.

Justin: The one who whines all the time and talks through her nose?

Killian: Yeah. I wish she’d just shut up. And stop looking at my work.

Mitchell: She’s orange.

Killian: Like a bleach blonde miniskirt wearing oompa loompa.

Justin: She gets excused absences to go tanning.

Not-Kevin: And some day her face will look like an old leather wallet.

Justin: I’m pretty sure that day is tomorrow.

You know what makes me happy about all this? They’re completely aware of the fact that girls like Lindsey are looking to use them and they’re not falling for it. Well done, guys. Well done.