Handyman… super hero… surfer dude…

Hand drawing heart in sand on the beachHi folks, and welcome to my snippet.

Turns out it’s a good thing i missed signing up for WeWriWa this week. I wanted to share a little something about the handyman, but had a very hard time finding 8 sentences, or even 10, that made sense. This week’s is a little long, hopefully not toooo long.

The handyman is Tim Tate–his alliterative name and the way he handles his tools inspire Nathan to call him a super hero (although not to his face). In this snippet, Eric and Nathan are in their backyard, taking a break from Slacker Day activities to check out the lone surfer who, of course, turns out to be the handyman extraordinaire. They are in a fairly secluded area…


Eric thought he should stop spying on Tim but couldn’t bring himself to lower the binoculars. Tim seemed more relaxed than he was at Buchanan House, his walk more athletic, graceful. On workdays Tim wore comfortable, almost loose jeans, and T-shirts either under a flannel or over a thermal. In a wetsuit, he almost looked like a different man. Eric had tried to get a feel for what the body beneath the clothes looked like, without being caught staring, but hadn’t enjoyed the level of success he’d hoped for. After seeing Tim in a wetsuit, Eric knew his fumbling guesses hadn’t even been close. The suit clung to Tim’s broad shoulders and chest, tapering to trim hips only to bulge again over his defined thigh muscles. He looked like a god.

“Mm-mm-mmm, that is a tasty dish.” Nathan bumped his shoulder into Eric’s.

Before Eric could respond Tim unzipped the top of his wetsuit. Eric stood, transfixed, as Tim peeled the top half from his body and let it hang around his waist like the bib on a pair of overalls. It was like watching a live-action ad for Men’s Fitness Magazine. Tim’s upper body was sculpted to lean perfection. His hair sent drops of water sliding down his chest, and Eric thought about licking the salt water from his warm skin, peeling the rest of the wetsuit away, and—


Thanks for reading!

If i suddenly disappear for a week or so I’m probably in the editing cave, working on the PNR. My deadline is Jan. 2, and the first pass could begin as soon as next week! I anticipate more work and less sleep than I’m used to. 🙂

Okay, enough from me, off you go to sample the fine snippets elsewhere. Check out Snippet Sunday, and enjoy the rest of your weekend!

A quick guide to the parts of speech…

Hand drawing heart in sand on the beachHappy Happy Weekend!

Why does the week after a long weekend feel so blasted long? It’s not fair.

Anyway, last week I introduced you to two of my new-ish characters, Eric and Nathan, of the ORCoast story. Nathan muddied the waters a bit when he called Eric darling, so (despite how I love muddying the waters in general) this week’s snippet should clear things up.

The guys have just hired a handyman to help them fix up the camp, and he’s tall, dark, and handsome—of course! More on the handyman later (promise). For now, here’s the important bit. Handyman just went into the kitchen, and—


Nathan glided out shortly thereafter, like it was scripted; he leaned close and whispered in Eric’s ear. “Oh, em, gee, he can handyman me anytime.”

“Handyman isn’t a verb, Nathan.”

“It is in his case.” Nathan made a growling noise and winked. “But you saw him first, so hands-off.”

“I didn’t say—”

“You never say, so I’m saying it for you.”


Thanks for reading!

One more thing, then I’ll let you get on to more snippets!

If you’re reading this on 12/06 or 12/07, there’s still time to grab my short story “Comfort” at ARe while it’s free. It’s a second edition, originally published in December of 2012. You can check it out here.

Okay, that’s all for me–see you in the comments!

You know the drill, stop in at Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday!

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And now for something completely different…

Hand drawing heart in sand on the beachHola lovelies!

Thanks a million for all your comments on the witch story. It’s waiting in line in the editorial queue at Dreamspinner, so this week I’m posting from a different story. I thought I’d shared from this one before but can’t find any evidence of that.

This snippet is from the book I’m calling The Oregon Coast Story for now, in which two friends buy an abandoned hotel in central Oregon and turn it into a tiny west coast version of P-town. It’s a contemporary with a little drama and a little angst, and more than a little sexy-times. If all goes well it’ll be released in September of next year.

Eric is MC #1 and we’re in his POV; Nathan is the BFF.


“This place is falling down. I can’t believe you dragged me all the way out here.” Eric crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Nathan.

Nathan laughed. “Did you just harrumph out loud?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question, darling. But if you had, I’d say we’re here so we might as well get out and look around.”


Thanks for reading!

Have fun while you hop around and check out more snippets. You know the drill, stop in at Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday!

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Closer to a money shot…

Photo credit: Joseph D.R. OLeary

Hello and welcome!

I have news this week, but first, the snippet.

I’m going with another 8 from Michael’s POV, because I wanted an excuse to lead with this picture… not that I needed one. Plus, I sensed a desire for a racier snippet last week, and I aim to please. 😀

This 8 is after a short road trip, in which Jeffrey’s clever chatter drove Michael halfway around the bend. The first line is Michael’s. (Usual warnings apply to this unedited snippet.)


“Be glad I don’t gag you. I don’t think I could—”

“Now that’s a good idea.” He grabbed the front of my shirt in both fists and walked me backward. “Fill up my mouth for a while.”

My back hit the wall and I was a goner. Damned prick got overpowered again.

Jeff fumbled with my pants—maybe too much—but I pretended not to notice. He managed to get them open and then dropped to his knees in front of me.


Thanks for reading!

News item #1: the expanded version of this story is finished! It wrapped up at a little over 32K. Publication is scheduled for May/June of 2015, and if it’s well received I may write a sequel. I may write one anyway, because I dig this world. It has at least two more stories in it.

News item #2: Maybe some of you remember the color story—Colin and Al? The ink is barely dry on the contract to publish it—Loose Id will release it sometime next spring! This story has resisted all my attempts at a decent title, so (in addition to the proposed content edits) I’m hoping my editor can help in that area.

That’s it for me!

Fly, be free–hop around and check out more snippets! You know the drill, stop in at Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday!

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A charged response…

Hola snippet lovers!

poker5-01-111413-2065Time for another taste of The Pinch of the Game, my PNR scheduled for release in May/June of 2015 by Dreamspinner.

All of the snippets so far have been from Jeffrey’s POV, so I thought it would be fun to hear from Michael. This is a bit later in the story too, so I don’t want to give so much context that it’s spoilery. Sorry if that makes it so vague it borders on the obtuse. (I’m a little sorry, for real. ;)). The usual caveats about un-edited and creatively punctuated snippets apply.


Jeffrey’s sexy dark eyes slitted. After a moment he sat back and a feral grin replaced his glare. It asked the question, you and what army?

Jeffrey flipped the visor down in front of him and slid the cover back, away from the mirror. He trained the mirror on the girl in the backseat, took a slow deep breath and whispered so softly I couldn’t make out the words. The air in the car charged with Jeffrey’s power—nothing to get worked up about, the way his power felt had stopped making my heart beat fast with fear. He’d used it a few times in the condo, to keep me immobilized while he had his way with me, so that probably had something to do with my response. Pavlov’s dogs never had it so good.


Thanks for reading!

Don’t forget to visit the other snippets. You can find links here, at the Snippet Sunday FB group and Weekend Writing Warriors.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

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A question of blood flow?

Hola snippeteers!

Here’s another 8 from the witch story, The Pinch of the Game, scheduled for release next May or June from Dreamspinner. It began as a flash piece, grew to a short story, and by the time I send in the complete story on November 30th it’ll be a decent novella at around 30K. The last half has given me a fit or two, but I have a complete draft so now all I have to do is chip away everything that doesn’t belong. 🙂



Two previous snippets are here.

This one takes place after the smexy-times alluded to in snippet #2. Michael just suggested they could go east, into Oregon’s High Desert and Jeffrey, not being the outdoorsy type, declined. The first dialogue is Michael’s.



“You’re thinking you can talk your way out of Sal’s bad graces, but it won’t work. He wants to take you apart and wave the scraps where the whole world can see. God help me, but I can’t let that happen.”

“You still lacking blood flow to the brain?”

And there we were, as ludicrous as it sounds and then some—the man who’d come to drag me back to face— No sense thinking about that, but shit, we were naked on my bed and he’d given me the fuck of my life. It sure felt good to have his gigantic arms around me.


“At least you’re honest.”


Thanks for reading!

Don’t forget to visit the other snippets. You can find links here, at the Snippet Sunday FB group and Weekend Writing Warriors.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

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A Love Type Thing

Hiya, snippet lovers!

Here’s another taste from Scotty’s POV. Last week Mick was waylaid on his way out to lunch. I’m skipping over some smexy bits and to Mick’s return to the yard.

I hit Send on this baby, so (since it’s not likely to change anytime soon) I’ll share the title: A Love Type Thing. (Yep, from the STP song, “Sex Type Thing.”)


Mick came back and headed straight for the coffee pot; he didn’t look happy to begin with, but his face got all stony, like Gramps’s when he had to bail Scotty out of a jam for fighting. Even with anger etching lines in his face and the sadness in his eyes, Mick was a good-looking man. His eyes and hair were dark brown but not black, and his jeans rode low on his hips, showing slices of lightly tanned skin as he worked. Mercy had a cute little turned-up nose, but Mick’s was stronger and a little beakish, it made Scotty wonder if he’d be firm all over.

Maybe Mick smelled sex in the shop; that might be a problem for anyone—the boss’s kid getting his rocks off on the clock. People said it was possible, but Scotty had never smelled sex in a room so he wasn’t sure. He felt a little like punching something, so it was a good thing Gramps came back. He didn’t want to start something like that with Mick, not really, but sometimes it felt better than being confused.

Thanks for reading!

Now that Mick & Co. are off in Slushville, next week I’ll probably move on to something else. I have a Dec. 1 deadline for an expanded version of the witch story and as of today, I need all the help I can get with that one. No lie.


Don’t forget to visit the other snippets. Click all the links at the Snippet Sunday FB group and Weekend Writing Warriors.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

rainbow rosephoto credit: cal_gecko via photopin cc

Another introduction…

Hello and welcome to my snippet!

I’m convinced having a book out on beta reads puts an author through emotional changes that feel something like the stages of grief. After two weeks, I’m pretty sure I’ve reached the bargaining stage. I promise to re-do anything they suggest if they’ll just rip off the band-aid and tell me how horrible it is today. *lol*

Here’s another one from the wrecking yard romance, introducing an important character. Mercy pulled up outside the shack where Scotty’s working, before Mick could get away to scare up some lunch. Just before this, Mick watches Scotty and Mercy kiss hello.

The usual caveats apply to this unedited snippet. 🙂


Mick’s stomach felt leaden, but he knew he’d regret it later if he didn’t get something to eat. Before he could slink away, Scott called out to him; Mick met them halfway between the truck and the Bug.

“Mick pulled your parts for today, Mercy.”

The gal—Mercy—studied Mick like he was under a microscope, like she could see more than he would ever be willing to share; he extended a hand and she shook it while they both said “nice to meet you.” Mercy didn’t have to look up to Mick, not like Scott had to look up to her; she was almost androgynous, but maybe that had as much to do with her wardrobe of dusty black jeans and boots topped with a white T-shirt as with her slender figure. She exuded toughness, from the black make-up around her eyes to her rough, firm grip on Mick’s hand.

“Thanks for the parts, Mick.” Those few words sounded like a come-on wrapped in a warning.

Thanks for reading!

Don’t forget to visit the other snippets. You can find links here, at the Snippet Sunday FB group and Weekend Writing Warriors.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

rainbow rosephoto credit: cal_gecko via photopin cc

A different point of view…


Hiya, fellow snippet-lovers!

Last week I shared from the scene where Mick sees Scotty—the welder—for the first time. This week’s snippet is from Scotty’s POV. It wasn’t easy to choose, because I have a big love for Scotty. It’s funny, but I always seem to fall harder for the MC’s love interest than the main character himself… (I know, Freudian much?)

As always, please ignore the creative punctuation. 🙂

Scotty worked late, converting an old VW bus into a flatbed. He had plans to sell it and buy concert tickets in August and September, a mosh pit was the next best thing to a real fight—sometimes even better because you had to get pretty damned crazy to get in trouble in one. He was happier working on a project than watching television or going out, even if sometimes it got a little lonely, but eventually he had to stop and eat.

He pulled the metal door closed and walked around to the front entrance to go up to his little apartment on the second floor of the main building. Mick’s navy blue VW hadn’t moved, it still sat beside the light-duty truck that had been a mover’s van and was to be Scotty’s next project. It was disappointing if the VW broke down; he hoped Mick would be a true gearhead, and they could hang out and talk about cars and who knows, maybe have even more fun than that. Scotty went over and found Mick asleep in his car; he had the passenger seat leaned all the way back and curled up on his side, his mouth open just enough to give Scotty thoughts he really didn’t need if he was going to keep things from getting complicated at the yard. He didn’t mind complicated so much, but Walt had a different opinion.

Thanks for reading!

I’ve been working on Colin & Al’s story off and on for a long time, and tonight I finally hit Send! Any positive energy you’d like to share will be most appreciated. I’m a little freaked, but it feels like a good career move to try out a new publisher with this one. It seems smarter not to have all my eggs in one basket, even if that basket is shiny and wonderful. 😀

Have fun visiting the other snippets, at Weekend Writing Warriors, and the Snippet Sunday FB group.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend, lovelies!

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Meet the welder?

Hola, snippetteers!

This snippet is from the wrecking yard romance, and picks up shortly after the last one. Walt, who owns the yard, has just offered Mick a job.

This story is out with a couple of kind folks who’ve agreed to be merciless beta readers. If anyone else wants to volunteer, zip me an email and let’s talk about it!


Mick studied the silhouetted welder as nonchalantly as he could manage while Walt made his offer. Even if he’d offered below minimum wage Mick would’ve taken it—he needed the cash and could handle being ripped-off for a short time—but twelve an hour was more than decent, more than he’d ever made on a legal job.

After they shook on it, the torch went out and Mick realized he’d forgotten to keep one eye on the welder; footsteps closed in on where he stood, waiting for Walt to get him a list of parts to pull. Walt had said it was just him and “the kid” so Mick expected a literal kid—the man approaching him only qualified to someone of Walt’s age, which had to be on the high side of sixty. The welder had to be in his late twenties even if he was short and maybe even a little delicate, dishwater blond waves with a hint of strawberry tumbled freely to his shoulders below an olive green knit beanie, scruff a few shades darker than his hair could’ve been a beard on training wheels. His jeans and green plaid flannel shirt had seen better days, but Mick didn’t notice anything wrong with what they covered.

Walt came back with a clipboard holding a list of parts in a plastic sleeve just as the welder got close enough to say hello. He didn’t, nor did he look far from his scuffed steel-toed boots.

Thanks for reading!

Don’t forget to visit the other snippets. You can find links here, at the Snippet Sunday FB group and Weekend Writing Warriors.

 Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

rainbow rosephoto credit: cal_gecko via photopin cc