Pages

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

happy new book day to me!


"Must Loathe Norcross is small town m/m romance with a lot of hot body lusting, neighbourly nosiness, some quirky humour, and a delightfully gentle sense of love and romance."
booktopia november romance buzz

"...  I really had fun with it. I love Summer/Kate's writing and it always pulls me right through from start to finish. Recommended."
five stars Eli Easton

It's out today! Right now! You can go buy a copy for less than the cost of a Barnes and Noble fancy drink that I'm planning on buying myself to celebrate release day!
buy at Samhain.
buy at Amazon
buy at barnes and noble


When it comes to love, there’s no such thing as traveling light.
Born wealthy and ambitious, Grady once worked hard and played hard—so hard, it brought him to the brink of ruin. Now, after a five-year retreat into the contemplative life, he’s dipping a toe back into the real world.

Assigned to write a series of articles about a Connecticut valley’s small towns, Grady checks into a local hotel. And meets a bellhop who seems determined to show him around…and maybe indulge in a more intimate tour later on.

When Josh’s boss half-jokingly suggests he get on a first-name basis with the writer who could make or break their town’s reputation, Josh jumps at the chance. He dreams of seeing the world, but the man he thought might be his ticket out turns out to be less influential—and more attractive—than he expected.

Together they uncover a strange plot to detour Norcross’s tourist dollars, a plot that leaves Grady bruised and angry. Now they’ll have to decide how far they’ll go to save the town…and how far they’ll fall for each other.
Product Warnings
Steaming-hot room service, delivered by a cute bellboy in uniform. Stolen towels will not be tolerated, but stolen hearts? Help yourself!

Friday, November 21, 2014

New cover! Old book!

A fantasy romance, set in another world.

"This is a weird and wonderful fantasy. Very powerful--and uplifting.
 --Rob Preece (Goodreads)
The revolution has swept the world, and the ancient rulers--mind-travelers who controlled others with their psychic powers--have been swept from existence. But one of the true revolutionaries must follow rumor to track down the last of the mind-travelers.

Hunting mind-travelers is what Cor does--despite the burden of guilt he carries. The cast-away, Numi had been banished from society for her powers. Beautiful and more dangerous than any other enemy Cor's encountered.

Numi will haunt her enemy the only way she knows how. . .


I wrote this a while back and published it via booksforabuck. It was never a big seller, except it did very well at fictionwise....which should tell you how long ago the book came out. (fictionwise went under in 2012.)

Last month, I got the rights back from. I had an editor go through it, and bought a new cover. The editor, who's picky, said she enjoyed it. So okay! That's great!

Now you can buy it again, but only at Amazon. 


Tuesday, November 11, 2014

why pointergate is important--despite the stupid title

I worked with refugees for ten years. Every one of the hundreds of people coming through my classroom had lived in a war-torn country. Every single person I met there had seen people they loved killed.

the women who'd watched all the men and boys over 12 marched to the village green and shot to death. Every. Single. Male.
the woman who had her baby taken from her and thrown over and over against a wall
the man who had both his hands and feet lopped off
the man who cried every day at the back of the classroom and whose hands were permanently bent because they'd been tied for over a year.
the kids who wore that thousand yard stare no matter what you said to them or showed them

Their stories seem so far removed from our world that it doesn't seem possible it could happen here.

I learned three things from working with them:

1. No country inhabited by humans is safe from the terror created by that kind of hatred.
2. People you think you know can turn unbelievably horrible overnight. It's as if a switch is turned on, but really there are signs. Watch for the signs.
3. The war and killing ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS starts with information from reliable sources (the government and/or news) dehumanizing people--the ones who end up dead or driven from their homes.

When men who pass as reliable (wearing neckties and good haircuts) tell stories based on fear and lies turning fellow citizens* into something as less than human, their lies must be uncovered. They shouldn't be vilified either (mocked maybe) but their exaggerations and dehumanizing lies MUST be revealed.  Not doing so risks lives.**

I didn't believe that before I met all those refugees--I would have thought it was comical to believe our country and culture could ever start one of those horrible wars based on hatred of fellow citizens' color or religion.

After meeting those refugees, I take those threats very seriously.  I am very jumpy, as in I feel the urgent need to jump on any story by anyone that seems to have the goal of making my fellow citizens afraid of a particular race or belief system (And major world religions**** do NOT promote violence. Only extremist wings of them do and please, please yes go ahead and denounce the extremists looking for violence. I don't want the Timothy McVeighs or bin Laden walking the streets).


Collective guilt is a myth created by people looking for trouble.

 _____________

*or people in other countries, duh.
**no, I don't think minnesota is in imminent danger of exploding with race wars.  But once you wake up to this kind of awareness, it's impossible to let even small shit pass.
**** When I see Muslims tarnished with the brush of extremism, I think of my friends, the Bosnian refugees, and hope they never have to see a repeat of what destroyed their old lives happen in their new country.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Slouching toward health

I'm standing around with my hands in my pockets but that's because I have to hold my pants up. Back to losing weight -- since June, I'm 30 lbs down with another 30 to go.

Last time I did this, I was sure I would never get fat again. After all, I'd lost the weight the Right Way, slowly, with lifestyle changes, mindful eating, yada yada.

I didn't realize how much my body loathes being thin and how much it loves chocolate and eating and yummmm food.The moment my back was turned on the counting of calories, the weight jumped back on.

Also older bodies just don't burn it.

In other news about me, me, me. I'm having a tough time getting this story going. Come on, story, write yourself. Dammit.

And Columbus was a horrible person, maybe, but having a Monday off is a fine idea.

Yeah, just writing random stuff to get a post up even though blogging is dead. Blathering about oneself on a blog is
1. A form of necrophilia.
2. Nostalgia
3. Not really worth mentioning. 

depending on one's mood.


Saturday, October 04, 2014

Bang, whimper, lawsuit

I'm sad to see this crapolafest that is Ellora's Cave VS D.A.

There's plenty of indignation and anger and long articles about freedom of press and first amendment rights and ... sure, sure, I understand.

I'm probably not going to give money to defend DA but that's not because I don't agree. (It's because my EC books aren't making any money -- and I have a kid in college and I'd rather give to Doctors Without Borders or Urban Oaks  and my dumb dog is sick again and ohgodtheregoestheclutchonthecar. again.)

I'm sad because I remember seeing how outrageous Jaid Black seemed...and yet look! She was an entrepreneurial genius! And she apparently was, for a while. That someone so very, very far outside the standard business model could make a successful bid in the world of publishing made me happy.

I first published with them almost ten years ago, just about the time EC went big. I remember the calendars and the touring buses (or was it one bus?) and the kinda eerie guys with the hairless bodies. Mostly I remember the shelves and shelves of EC books in Borders.

 I never went to RT when Ellora's Cave ruled the roost, but I read The Stories and sure, later on there were a lot of muttering about how tasteless it all was, but I mostly heard about women cutting loose for the first time ever. And there was something so amazingly out there and fun about the whole idea of women, regular women, being caught up with reading, talking and thinking about sex. The word "shameless" comes to mind but at the time it felt like the right kind of shameless, as in operating joyously without a smidgen of shame.

It was the first time I'd witnessed such a raunchy party attracting middle-class, middle-aged women and I thought it was, as one old lady said, a real hoot. Their reader loop was HUGE and people enjoyed the hell out of it.

That's what I think about when I think of Ellora's Cave. The fact that Jaid and her mother** were an amazing success without being trim professional-seeming businesswomen--that they let it all hang out and were emotional, eccentric and not even a bit mainstream -- yet made their business work. I really liked that. A lot.

 Until it all stopped working.

The party ground down a while back but it hurts to watch the end go so pear-shaped now. 

______________________________

**not that anyone asked, but I have never witnessed Raelene behave in any fashion other than totally professional. Ever. I have no behind-the-scenes experience,  but I have witnessed a couple of melty-downy events and she always seemed to stay calm and mature. Plus her hats.


Thursday, September 18, 2014

A Debut Title from Rochelle Campbell



Promoting someone other than me -- here's Rochelle! I haven't read the book, but it looks pretty intriguing
Kate


A question and answer session with Rochelle Campbell....


What made you want to be a writer?

I don’t think there was any one singular moment that created my life-long desire to write.  As most writers, I began as an avid reader.  My aunt was a librarian and through her I gained access to a world of books, periodicals and journals.  I recall being impressed that the people who wrote things hundreds of years ago were being remembered by the people who read their words today.  In a sense, these authors became immortal.  I’m sure this thinking process factored into my desire to be a writer.


Your current book, Fury From Hell, is a paranormal cop thriller.  What first attracted you to this genre?


My favorite books always included some fantastical element – ghosts, witches, magical objects, vampires, etc.  However, I never felt ‘creative’ enough to build a whole world.  I sort of backed into this book through a What if… exercise.  I saw an orange work cone in the middle of the street with steam coming out of it.  My brain automatically wondered what if there was a demon swirling around in the steamy mist ready to slip into a passerby unnoticed?  What if the demon wants to help the person in order for the demon to demand something vital and important from the human?  Imagine my elation when I finally found a way to write a story in my favorite genre!


Which genres do you read – other than paranormal?

My favorite reading genres are: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Speculative (think Stranger in A Strange Land), Horror, Romance (especially Victorian romances!), and fiction that deals with alternative history.  I’ll even read non-fiction.  The last non-fic book I read was The Dressmaker of Khair Khana 


You mention you read horror.  Doesn't Fury From Hell, belong in the horror genre? The cover seems to say "horror" -- so which is it, horror or paranormal? 
  
 The title alone leads readers to think horror.  However, this book is firmly a
paranormal thriller because it spins more on Detective Jennifer Holden trying to outsmart the demon that possessed her.  Initially, Holden did not know she was possessed which ratchets up the tension immediately.

Holden’s colleagues know that something’s off with Holden but they can’t quite ferret it out.  It’s a subtle difference stemming from Holden’s newfound confidence which the demon exuded into its new host.  There is a palatable sense of suspense as the story unfolds – is Holden going to be able to solve her murder cases before the demon kills her?  While there are ‘horrific’ scenes, the overall tone of the book is action.  You’ll always wonder what’s going to happen next.


Is there a message in your novel that you want to share with readers?

Yes, there is.  I’m not sure if I’d call it a message.  It’s more of a question; a question that will take several books to fully explore.  Detective Holden’s inner angst circles around the question – What is the ‘truth’?  Faith or, self-determination?

Because of Holden’s traumatic past, she decided in her teens that there couldn’t be anyone, or anything out there in the heavens.  If there was, why would whatever was out there allow bad things to happen to her, a young child?  Holden became an atheist; her nickname on the force is Holy Holden.

Fury From Hell is the first book in the From Hell series. 


Where can my readers find Fury From Hell?



Where can they find you?

Blog:

Twitter:
@NoteBkBlogairy

GoodReads:

Website:

Amazon Author Central:


Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Until Friday, these books are practically free


THE GOOD: I have two books marked down to only 99 cents.

THE BETTER: They're fun Victorian Romances.

THE BEST: Every cent I make selling them this week will go to Stef's KO Fund. **

Here's the facebook page for Stefani's kick out cancer reading blitz fundraiser. 

Here's Stef's gofundme page.


HERE ARE THE BOOKS:


Love Between the Lines  at Amazon
also marked down at Barnes and Noble.

4.5 Stars!
"Rothwell's historical romance is pleasing from every angle!"
--RT Bookreviews Magazine

Danger won't deter this intrepid reporter--even when life and love are on the line.
Sir Gideon Langham wants the best for his flagship newspaper. Hiring daring female reporter Lizzie Drury, aka "Trudy Tildon," seems like a smart decision--until he finds himself falling for her. He knows she'll risk everything to get a story which is perfect for an employee, but not for the sort of woman he plans to marry.
Lizzie longs to write real, in-depth articles. When handsome Sir Gideon offers her a job as more than a stringer, she reluctantly leaves her New York beat for unfamiliar London. But as she pursues a murder investigation, ghosts from her past become all too real.
Digging up dirt sometimes unearths danger. Now someone is after Gideon's reputation--and Lizzie's life. In a race to find a killer, Lizzie and Gideon must learn to trust each other...before it's too late.

----AND ------

  
When a nearly naked woman crashes into his arms, Paul, the new Earl of Latterly, knows he’s left his monk-like world behind. Raised apart from females by his misogynist father, Paul hardly knows how to speak with the delightful girl who’s dashed out of the dance hall. But in a single night’s tryst, they discover a passion he’s long denied himself. Yet to his dismay, he learns Emma is the adopted sister of the very man he seeks. The true heir to the earldom, Paul’s ne’er-do-well cousin.

Although she’s tried to escape her free-loving mother’s reputation, Emma consents to one night of lust…for a price. But as her heart falls for the stranger, she forgoes payment and flees into the night. Only to find Paul on her doorstep again, seeking her brother. And offering an inheritance that will change her family’s lives forever.

Her rapscallion brother needs training to blend with the ton, and Paul needs Emma’s help. Fear of becoming his eccentric father makes Paul skittish, and Emma’s outré family keeps the waters well-churned. But as Paul fulfills his promise to reveal the true heir, he and Emma must forge a new path to love. Before their pasts rob them of true happiness.

Note: This book contains explicit sexual content and graphic language. It is hotter than most titles by Kate Rothwell.


__________________________
**yes, I misspelled Stef's name in my listings, whoops.

Tuesday, September 09, 2014

A NEW BOOK RELEASE TODAY and some nice reviews.

Mending him is available today! 


REVIEWS ARE POSITIVE! (Phew!).


 This is a great historical romance, written in the language of the times, adding credibility and authenticity to the plot. It's well-written, with interesting characters, and a few unexpected plot changes, which kept my interest. I recommend it to everyone who enjoys a historical romance, passionate men, and true love overcoming almost impossible obstacles. Thanks, Bonnie and Summer, for the highly entertaining story.
--rainbow reviews


Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon have written an enjoyable, frothy historical romance that manages to balance the darker emotional conflicts with the relief of sexy times and witty hero-to-hero moments.  The interplay of the romance allows for characters that seek maturity, and watching the characters find excitement in each other throughout the book is worth the angsty parts.  Mending Him was like dark chocolate: sweet enough to be a dessert, and bitter enough to do the flavors justice.
--heroes and heartbreakers


 This was a very sweet story.  Not the sappy, disgustingly sweet that I hate, but the adorable, happy romance that put a huge smile on my face.  Both characters are easily likable and their friendship and attraction to each other is very believable.  Two lost souls coming together over disability and recovery.  Don’t get me wrong, Robbie and Charles are “nothing” alike, but the men they become are totally in sync.
--Blogger Girl  


I am a big fan of Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon’s historicals and Mending Him was another really delightful story.  Robbie and Charles are such an interesting match and I loved the way things develop between them.
--joyfully jay

This story is a sweet, tender love story that made my heart smile while I read it....Overall, this was a really wonderful story.  I’m not a fan of historical stories, however, I will say that this book was so sweet and wonderful that I fell in love with it.  This book was such a great story and I really fell into the story and the love affair between the Robbie and Charles.  So, sit back and enjoy watching two young men fall in love with each other.
 --lovebytes


Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon’s “Mending Him” Is A Pitch Perfect Historical Romance

I’ve read a good number of Devon and Dee’s books, and it’s quite safe to say that Mending Him, as far as I’m concerned, is their best offering yet.
--novel approach


Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon’s works have become some of my favorite entries when it comes to M/M historical romance. And while The Gentleman and the Rogue is still my most favorite coming from them, this latest “Mending Him” is definitely one that I cherish as well.
If I could describe the story, I would use  words like “sweet” and “lovely” — because that was what it felt for me.
--boys in our books

I love the historical novels Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon create, I’ve not yet read one that I didn’t like. They are always absorbing and fascinating, with interesting plots and happy end-ings. Mending Him is written from various POV’s and as much as I liked Robbie Charles was my favorite, he was a perfect example of a bad thing changing someone for the better. ...I loved Mending Him and recommend it to anyone who loves historical stories with wounded heroes that need lots of tender care.
--prism reviews


A few reviewers have wondered what was going on with poor Charles who suffered with a mysterious illness that came and went.


It remained unnamed in the story because it wasn’t recognized until decades after Mending Him took place. Sufferers were often accused of hysteria because they improved without any sort of outside treatment.

Did you guess?

The answer:
Guillain-Barre syndrome was named after the French physicians Georges Guillain and Jean Alexandre Barré, who described it in 1916.

GBS is a rare disorder in which your body’s immune system attacks your nerves. Weakness and tingling in your extremities are usually the first symptoms. These sensations can quickly spread, eventually paralyzing your whole body. patients usually reach the point of greatest weakness or paralysis days or weeks after the first symptoms occur. Symptoms then stabilize at this level for a period of days, weeks, or, sometimes, months. The recovery period may be as little as a few weeks or as long as a few years. About 30 percent of those with Guillain-Barré still have a residual weakness after 3 years. About 3 percent may suffer a relapse of muscle weakness and tingling sensations many years after the initial attack. There is still no cure today.

[You're not imagining it -- I copied this from our joint blog. Because I'm lazy like that.]

Friday, September 05, 2014

A post sure to annoy everyone

I was listening to an expert describe different types of rape, specifically date rape, and realized a situation she described happened twice to me. She called it date rape.


Hearing what I lived through given that label felt nauseating but not for the reasons you'd think.

Let's get down and dirty with my experiences. Or my memory of them.

I didn't want to have sex but I liked the guy(s) and didn't really know how to say no (I sure as SHIT hope this doesn't happen as much these days. God, we were badly educated--and I'm talking about the men, too, so don't get all Like That.) Anyway I went along with these events.

One turned out not so bad--although the sex wasn't on my agenda and he didn't do much for me. I was unenthusiastic and said, maybe we shouldn't do this. It wasn't a no. It was a meh.  He didn't hear me. He was really turned on and not listening. I'm sure absolutely sure, if I'd pushed him, hit him, yelled at him he would have stopped. 

The aftermath, hanging around etc, wasn't so bad. I knew the attraction wasn't there for me, but he was a nice guy. I told him that it wasn't going to work between us and he said something about how we'll always have Paris. I didn't say it was more like the South Bronx for me.

The second time was less positive.  Did I go through with it? Yup. Why? Ummm. it was a long time ago. Afterwards I was annoyed enough to point out that I felt coerced when I wasn't really interested. The guy apologized. We actually went out a couple of times after that, but I didn't spend time alone with him. I wasn't afraid--I wasn't interested. Again I'm fairly sure if I'd freaked out, instead of lying there, he would have stopped. Am I 100 percent certain? It was a long time ago. Maybe I was stupid not to be afraid.
 
I remember that second event as a more unpleasant experience. Still, I was mostly annoyed. The incidents were not my favorite moments of my life but I didn't feel anything very strong or deep. That's the way I prefer it to this day. It was easy to get past them and get on with life. 

So anyway lately, I've read descriptions of rape that have included exactly these kind of meh experiences. Women who were ambivalent or unsure but didn't act at the time. They might read the description later on, have a bolt of horror and think "god, I was raped" I believe there's potential for harm in that--for the women.

I might be a little unclear about what exactly happened but here's the important part: I didn't lose any sleep over the incidents. In fact I joked about one of them with a friend at the time. I  wasn't scarred. Do I wish they hadn't happened? I don't think I even really thought about them that much to care. I might have used the experiences to think about what I did want in a lover and it wasn't what those guys had to offer.

this is important: I might have been bent a little by them but nothing precious within me had been broken. If that had happened, oh yeah, that is a whole nother story.

But I think if anyone else had informed me that those times were"rape" and I believed that description there would have been scarring and pain and horror all around.  Would I have believed it? I was impressionable then and hmmm I don't know. But if I had, that word is so strong. It would have packed so much of a punch I would have turned into a victim instead of a kind of bystander participant. I would have given a label to something that was essentially a non-event and charged it into something that would  have  lasting power over me. I would have seen myself in a new and not happy way. The guys--they're secondary to this point I'm making.

If I'd labeled it rape, itwould have brought in other people and god, that thought really does make me feel sick.

I think, if I were doing it all again, with my 20-20 almost worthless hindsight, I would have been more forthright with the guys. Maybe, if I were doing it again--if my memory of it was faulty and it might be because that's the way memory works, people. our memories are not usually the only reality--I could have worked up an interest instead of just opting out and waiting for the sex to end. I would have said "more of this, less of that" and helped them be better lovers. I was young. I was hoping to please them more than I wanted to please myself. (Another thing I hope women today have moved beyond)

Maybe I wouldn't have gone along with the sex. This is hard to look back on because the 20th century was a different world. I wanted people to like me and sex was a source of entertainment, not always a deeply moving experience. The difference between me and someone living through the same thing and ending up scarred and a victim might be a teflon layer, and maybe my lack of sensitivity not always a good thing.

so anyway, another person living through those same incidents might have felt them more. They might need to find a reason for the harm and the search might reveal rape. I would think yeah, that might fit. Those people need to have a word strong enough to uncover pain and shame that they carry. They have suffered real harm and need real strong words to help them. In those cases, they need the power of that word.

This is about me and my story, not theirs.

But NOT everybody needs that kind of answer for that kind of incident. And in fact, I think it might forcing a strong drug onto people who don't even need an aspirin.

 If I were young and impressionable and read that article by an expert -- I might have thought oh shit, RAPE. That's a lightning bolt of a word. It lights up everything to a terrifying degree. That word would have seared me--as well as the guys involved (but again, this isn't about them). It would have left marks where there were none.

To look at disappointment or regret at an act or look at a couple of clueless people who can't communicate and give it that label afterwards? SOMETIMES it helps no one. Turning a dissatisfying or even a sad sexual event into a crime -- sometimes that gives something that's best moved past and forgotten, or laughed at, real staying power in a woman's life.

Before you get indignant, keep in mind that my point is this is personal. This isn't my pointing fingers at someone else who's lived through this sort of experience and saying "laugh it off, girl." It's about me.

I wish I knew how a younger version of me would have respond if someone I respected had described what I'd experienced as rape. The older one's response is to write this long meandering look back that probably won't help anyone--not even me.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Horror Story

Her baby was gone. She woke up alone, in the dark, and reached for the comforting, sleeping shape of her baby but it was gone. 

She wanted to cry out but something had been jammed down her throat, cold and plastic. A tube, right, right…this was the hospital. They did that in hospitals, but she had to talk, to tell someone, the baby was more important than comfort. She reached for her face and the tube blocking her throat.  Pain then more tubes moved with her hand. Awful pinching, and pulling tubes she plucked at them.

The baby—she could hear it crying. 

Help me. The scream didn’t come to her mouth. She wasn’t strong enough to get the wretched thing from her throat which ached with plastic and tears.

She passed out. 

When she woke, she didn’t remember the baby immediately and when she did she wondered how she could have forgotten. Perhaps there’d been drugs. Had they moved her from a place she’d been comfortable, hoping she’d forget. Why was she here and in so much pain?

The baby. They’d taken it from her. God, please, who were these people? 

She called out, made a sound at last. Someone touched her arm. She shrank back because a stranger stroked her arm and pretended to know her, called her by name. Her skin felt as if it burned under that touch.

“My baby,” she managed to croak.

“You weren’t admitted because of a baby.”

Liar, she wanted to scream the word but was too afraid. The calm certainty in that stranger’s face confused her and, worse, made her own memories crumble and scramble but no. she wouldn’t be fooled. She’d come here because of the baby. 

“You’re lying."

“Try to rest,” the stranger said. “Please? Close your eyes for me?”

“Why would I do anything for you? You took my baby. Where is this place?” So much discomfort. Why wouldn’t they give her something for the pain? “It hurts.”

“Why am I here?”

“Why am I here?”

“Why am I here?”

“Where is my baby?”

They didn’t answer.  Or they did and the answers slipped away.

“Close your eyes.” The order was more impatient this time.  Fear made her obey.

The next time she came awake…what had happened to put her here in this place, surrounded by people she didn’t know.

“Where’s my son?”

“He had to go to work.”

That had to be wrong. If it had been a test, they failed--because now she remembered she came to the hospital for the baby. “You’re lying.”

But then the doctor came in, distracting everyone, even her, and he talked to her in a voice that was too loud and made her head hurt even more.

“Help me,” she whispered.

“We are, I promise,” he said in that horrible jolly voice they used. “You need to relax. Take a deep breath.”

“But…Wait.” She needed something, an urgency they hadn’t addressed. “I don’t know.”

She was in the hospital.  

They talked about healing times and the words drifted past in a mumble and when she asked the people standing at her bed to repeat, they grew impatient.  “I told you that already.”

“Why am I here? Where is my baby?”

“Here.” A dark-haired man said. She had never seen him before--she'd swear to that.

She peered at his arms looking for the bundle wrapped in a white cloth with faded blue bunnies, pilled with use. She knew that blanket, the precise size of that bundle as big as her meatloaf pan. The man’s arms were empty. “I don’t see him.”

“I’m your baby.”

She was too afraid to tell this hulking, grim-faced stranger he lied. Her heart slapped hard at the instant his face became familiar and she knew he wasn’t lying. So much worse. She opened her mouth and a strange cry filled the air. That was keening hers for a lost baby in a blue-and-white cloth.

She’d lost a baby, a child, she’d lost a life. The pain was too large for any single body to hold and it had to come out.

“Hush, hush,” another stranger touched her. “Ma’am. Please stop. You’ll be fine, fine, attagirl.”

Like she was a dog. Something cold touched her arm, on the inside. An IV, she knew that was it was. Something cold in the IV.

For the pain of having a baby, she said to herself. Though I wanted to have him naturally, maybe this was better? She was comforted for a minute and she slept.

Panic hit her when she woke alone, in the dark. Where was her baby?
 

Friday, August 22, 2014

weird book

I'm listening to Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Lost Prince and it's a funky book that didn't age well, not like her other books. Written just before WW1 it has a strange kind of worshipful attitude about righteous war and royal blood. There's a whacko religious feel to it, pseudo-zen stuff.

Also odd? There is no mention of the two kids' mothers. Not so much as A  Word. These two kids are only products of their fathers....and the Princely One is exactly image of his father who's the exact image of an ancestor who died 500 years earlier.

I can tell she was writing for boys who have no interest in female events but still, you'd think there'd be a passing remark, like 'golly, wish your mom could see you now!' And the only attractive female in it is an evil spy. I'm not at the end so maybe a woman will jump up and say, "yo, hey! Here I am, your mother whom you've never even given a passing thought to!"

There's a homoerotic vibe too, everyone falls for the kingly dad in a big way and they vibrate with joy when he's around. He calls his kid "comrade" and sends him off to danger because it's for Samavia! All is for Samavia!

The descriptions of the cities and mountains are cool and the freedom of their adventures would probably appeal to kids.

But....

Just...i

t's a strange book.