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Posts Tagged ‘calon lan’

I’m off to my compulsory Welsh class shortly – aka dosbarth Cymraeg gorfodol – but first I’m going to allow myself a bit of a squee. The Bones of Our Fathers [contemp m/m] is finally finished bar the annoying whizz through to insert missing commas and work out why Scrivener has exported it with all my italics as underscores instead. It’s a shade under 80k words and will probably be 80k when I’ve looked it over and added the inevitable “OMG they never mentioned that again” bits.

And because that is nearly done, I thought I’d mention some of the other things in the pipeline.

Calon Lan – only with the proper little ^ over the A – is with Manifold Press and will be published later this year. I think maybe August 1st but making no promises. This is the historical Great War m/m story told from the point of view of the sister of one of the protagonists.

Manifold Press has a call out for submissions for a WW2 themed anthology called Call to Arms. I’ve got a story almost ready to go to submission for that.

I’m a couple of thousand words into Eleventh Hour #2 – I’ve missed Miles and Briers – but I still have no title. I sort of fancy Midnight Departure because that happens. I think it will be shorter than EH#1 but who knows.

Close Shave – sequel to Bones is around 35k words and I have bits and pieces and plans and plots for at least 4 more books and a couple of short stories.

A Fierce Reaping [hist m/m set in post-Roman Britannia] is still at 65k words and needs 30k of those editing out and another 70k adding to tell the whole thing. Not sure what to do with that one. I’ve also got plots and plans and resources for The Hounds of the North [hist m/m 1st century Rome and Britannia] and The Shepherd’s Hut [hist m/m WW2 set near Eastbourne].

Now I just need to get my head down and write.

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Actually no. I’ve already got 3 on the go and need another like a hole in the head. So I’m revisiting books I put aside when I started the ‘getting Eleventh Hour ready to release into the wild’ process.

I’m poking Calon Lan – not much further to go with it which is always when I start second guessing myself and deciding that the end isn’t strong enough. But I’m also reading stuff I wrote last November and haven’t really looked at since. I’ve only tried a little bit of contemporary romance – and that was shifters – so this was new ground to me. But it was fun to write people who could be fairly confident and not have to hide. Also I’m being hugely self indulgent and writing about things that I really like.

Here Mal, museum curator, welcomes Rob, a JCB driver, who has come to the museum to drop off a bunch of flints he has found, though Mal knows, and Rob knows Mal knows, that’s just an excuse.

Mal reached a couple of mugs down from the cupboard and turned on the kettle. “I think I thanked you all for last night, didn’t it? It was good fun.”
“Yeah,” Rob’s grin sounded in his voice but Mal turned to look at him anyway just for the pleasure of it. Rob had taken off his hard hat and put it on the window sill and was leaning against the edge of the window, hands in his pockets and looking out over the patch of grass and shrubs that was all the museum could afford of a garden these days. With his high vis jacket and coveralls undone to show a bright segment of printed tee shirt – the bit Mal could see read “-oun-arm-lu” leaving him to imagine the rest – and with long legs in rigger boots crossed casually at the ankle, he looked both wildly out of place and very much at home. Mal really envied his ease. There was a man, he thought, who knew exactly what he wanted and was fairly confident of getting it.
And what he wants right now – apart from tea – is me!” Mal found that a very satisfying thought. mal's mug
The kettle hissed, the water purred into the mugs soaking the special pyramidal bags that Sharon insisted made much better tea than any other variety. Mal stooped to open the fridge.
“Milk?” Malcolm asked. “Sugar?” Rob had stopped looking out of the window and was watching Mal. Mal could feel it.
“I never say no to a bit of sugar. Bit o’ milk too. Just enough to take the edge off.”
Mal grinned and made the tea then turned and offered Rob his mug.
“Thanks,” Rob said then lifted the mug a bit to read the printing on the side. “Museum curators do it meticulously? Oh. My. God. I hope that’s true.”
Mal snorted. “It’s part of the job to keep the paperwork in good order.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Book one about Mal and Rob is called The Bones of our Fathers and is almost done, just needs anothr scene or two and a really severe edit. Book Two – Close Shave – is about 30% done. I should stop messing about with blogs and get on with it, shouldn’t I?

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Rainbow Snippets

rainbow snippets

Happy Saturday, peeps. I hope you too are having mildish, sunnyish non-life threatening weather. It might not be exciting here in Wales but it’s reasonably safe!

It’s time for another round of snippets from a variety of authors writing stories featuring LGBT characters. Some of the bits are published, some are works in progress, some are raunchy and others are more plotty in nature. In short there’s something for everyone. Just click on the link above to be taken to the master list of snippet links.

OKay – back to early 20th c Wales. The Great War is still raging, farmer Nye Harrhy and and his wife Bethan have agreed that the friend of Bethan’s brother can come to help out on the farm. Alwyn has arrived with the stranger and Bethan is concerned that Nye is put out to swear about it:

“Nye Harrhy, language!”
“Yes I know, but you’d hardly credit it – good worker, my arse.”
Nye set the boots aside and stood at the window, which annoyed Bethan still further because it meant she couldn’t see out without squeezing past.
“What has Alwyn done?”
But Nye just shook his head, his lips tight, and turned to lean on the window sill, his shoulders blocking her view.
Bethan glared at the back of his head, then busied herself with warming the pot for tea, laying the table, and applying the bellows to the fire until the kettle purred and spat, lid lifting.

.

Sorry – i know it’s slow, but six at a time as they come!

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rainbow snippets

Another Saturday, don’t they roll round fast?

It’s snippet time again – a time when 30+ authors of LGBT themed fiction post six[ish] sentences of published works or WIPs and share them around through the magical medium of Facebook *rolls eyes a bit*. Click on the link about to go to the Facebook group where all the links are collected.

Okay, still with me?

I’m posting the next consecutive six from Calon Lan – a title taken from the old Welsh hymn which means Pure Heart – which is set during the Great War an shows a romance through the eyes of the married sister of one of the protagonists. Last week Alwyn had gone to the station to fetch his friend, leaving Bethan and Nye alone in the house.

They were tidy again and Bethan had prepared supper while Nye finished his work in the yard, before Bethan saw the first glimmer of light from the lamp on the trap. She peered into the gathering dark, wondering if she should call Nye in from where he was shutting up the fowls for the night, but then she saw him striding down the yard to open the gate. Bethan admired the spring in his step, knowing that she had put it there, then went to stir up the fire. She hung the kettle and swung it into the flames while listening to try and guess how long she would have before they came inside. Nye called a welcome, his voice small in the distance and she heard no reply that carried over the ring of Polly’s hooves and the grate of iron shod wheels on the cobbles.
She heard a soft mutter of voices, a louder comment from Nye then Nye appeared at the door with a canvas bag in his arms. He kicked the door shut behind him and rolled his eyes. “Your bloody brother,” he muttered and set the bag aside so he could stoop to remove his boots.

In case you want to know what Calon Lan sounds like this is the shortest vid I can find. The Welsh Youth Choir amusing other passengers at Buenos Aires airport on their way back from a series of gigs commemorating the 150th anniversary of the Welsh arriving in Argentina and settling in Patagonia.

If you don’t mind a longer version with pretty pictures of Wales there’s this one:

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Rainbow Snippets

rainbow snippets

It’s that time of week again, where a couple of dozen authors writing books of LGBT interest post short excerpts of their published work or WIPs. Click on the graphic above to be taken to the Facebook group where all the links are compiled into a handy dandy time saving list!!

Oh yeah.

I didn’t manage to get as many read last week as I wished and don’t think I managed to comment to any, but this week I’ll try to do better.

I’m continuing with my snippets from Calon Lan, though I suspect that might have to just be a working title. Calon Lan is set during the Great War and tells of a male male romance seen through the uncomprehending eyes of the married sister of one of the protagonists. Apologies to purists but this week, to keep on with the strict as it comes approach, there’s a suggestion of m/f. You may wish to avert your eyes.

They worked hard that morning, ate an early dinner, then Alwyn went out to put the mare to the trap. Polly had been curried until her bay sides shone and her harness gleamed with oil. Alwyn had even taken the trouble to rub up the brasses and that made Bethan smile. So much had been done lately that had to be done and barely a thing for the joy of it.
Bethan watched from the window as Alwyn set off, holding Polly to a steady walk, though from the set of her ears she would have preferred to step out into the bold high-kneed trot she had been bred for.
Nye put his hands on her shoulders and ducked his head to look as well, his chin on her shoulder, breath warming her neck. “He’s not like to be home much before dark and Georgie is fast asleep.”
Bethan grinned. “And you’ve got an itch that needs scratching, is it?” she asked and chuckled as he chased her upstairs.

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Rainbow Snippets

rainbow snippets

Here’s my snip for this week’s Rainbow Snippets.

Rainbow Snippets is a Facebook group where interested parties can share 6, approx, sentences of a published work or a WIP and other interested parties can read them. The only rule is that the protagonists of the book have to feature somewhere on the LGBTI+ spectrum.

So technically my story Calon Lan probably shouldn’t count because my POV character is a straight woman! But maybe it does because she’s observing the development – or is it a continuation – of a romance between her brother Alwyn and a friend. Here Alwyn is making a case for his friend to come and help on the farm, and it’s illegally long so it can finish off the section.

“A miner? What use will a miner be?”

“He worked with the ponies.” Alwyn glanced at Bethan. “He’s sleeping at his sister’s. There’s eight of them in the house. And he’s a good man. A worker.”

“And he’s a friend,” Bethan said. “Nye, why not? We could see how he does? Even if it’s only a few weeks?”

Nye’s fork paused on its journey to his mouth then lowered to his plate. He turned from brother to sister, his mouth tightening in the exasperated moue he always made when they ganged up on him. “Well.” His tone was grudging until she reached to touch his hand. “Ponies, horses – all the same, isn’t it, apart from the size.”

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