Okay, our link is live for the fundraiser! You can find that here on Galabid!

9am Saturday May 31st through 11pm Sunday June 1, R. Cooper and Geneva Vand and I (KL Noone) are offering small collections of short stories, flash fiction, AUs, sneak peeks etc. All proceeds will go to the ACLU, and everything is priced at $10!

The sale ends at 11pm Sunday night or if we run out of copies – limited quantities, so come grab yours now!!

Things you can get:

–from me (KL Noone): a bundle with six things: a couple of flash fics, a poem I wrote for my husband, a preview of the first 7k of the next Magician-related novel (it’s a Jer/Talis sequel!), a (moderately kinky!) bonus story for Sam and Leo from Character Bleed, and…well, one story you will never ever see anywhere else, a story which is now seventeen years old, from back when I wanted to write Humorous Fantasy and wanted to be young Terry Pratchett (or at least Peter David?), and I should probably apologize in advance about the terrible jokes

–from Geneva Vand: flash fiction of both m/m and f/f and stories for some of her published characters, including a proposal scene!

–from R. Cooper: one bundle of three AU short stories for the Familiar Beings (the Familiar Spirits/Beings fusion silliness) and ALSO a very limited rerelease of an old bundle for a different fundraiser several years ago

(The lovely R. Cooper, who organized this, adds: “copies will start to go out as Stripe (Galabid’s payment processor) begins to process the payments. So you won’t get your stuff immediately, but within a few hours or a day/two days. They tell me, and then I manually email them out. So it takes a bit lol. Please be patient with me.”)

After the sale is over and the last payment processed and copies are out, all three of us authors will post the total and the receipt everywhere!

I have been unrelentingly busy (grading! having the house painted! still being injured in a very ouch-y way!) and so have only just now had the time to make this post, but…

…”Tulips for Two” came out on Saturday from JMS Books, so it’s available everywhere now!

On sale at JMS Books here (still only $1.12 for this first week!) and at Amazon here!

It’s a fluffy springtime meet-cute, on the way to a horticultural conference – if you’ve ever wanted some fear of flying comfort, combined with detailed trivia about tulip growing, and immediate attraction that might blossom into more – well, this is the story for you! *laughs*

It’s also another story in which I happily pillage my father’s nurseryman knowledge for romance purposes…oh, well, I think he’s tickled!

And, in more cool news, upon release day it got the shiny number one banner on Amazon! in 30-minute LGBTQ short reads!

So that is very fun!

Next up…well, actually I’ve got a bunch of news! A birthday sale, a box set, a new story for next month…but that’s all probably another post, so in the meantime I shall just tease you with the opening of said new story…

~

Kyle Raines, glancing out an old-fashioned kitchen window at six minutes past three on a Friday afternoon, saw the musician coming up the lane, and felt his heart flutter.

The stranger had to be a musician, Kyle decided, entranced and spilling too much cinnamon over custard. The black motorcycle jacket, the stylish shaggy hair, the devil-may-care shoulders. The pause upon encountering the wealth of front steps and front door, followed by an incredulous whistle, audible through the kitchen’s open window. The note echoed like a robin’s twitter: perfect curious startled mimicry of spring.

The man most likely wasn’t a musician in reality, versus fantasy; he probably was instead another loud and self-important and arrogant friend of Chad’s; but Kyle, watching the man stroll up the cool grey flagstones to the double-wide front door, wrote him into a story: beautiful, autumn-haired and stormy-eyed, charismatic and weary, glittering with a thousand rock-show nights. Big hands. Talented hands. Artist’s hands.

The actual head caterer for the celebratory weekend, across the table, cleared her throat.

~

…yes, it’s a Cinderella retelling, of a sort! Sufficiently tantalized? 🙂 More soon!

This week’s Rainbow Snippet comes from my upcoming release, out Feb 15! It’s called “A Valentine for Violet,” an MM romance novella, and it’s one that I really love – brand-new characters, a sort of alt-Victorian English country village setting (no magic, but same-sex marriage is accepted), and paper-making and valentines! I hope you’ll all love it too – I had such fun writing this one!

It’s available for pre-order now here at JMS Books – and currently 50% off today (Feb 9) for the sale!

(In case you’re not familiar with #RainbowSnippets, each week, authors post six (or more, if you’re wordy like me!) lines from a story, wip, etc – sharing the delight! Come check out the Rainbow Snippets Facebook Group – new posts every weekend (depending on time zones). The weekly pinned post will collect comments from authors linking to their six-line Rainbow Snippet post for the week.)

Here’s Violet first meeting Captain Valentine Argent, newly returned to Hartswell…

~

Valentine winced again. “I really am sorry about the mud.”

“It’ll dry. Here—” Violet shook himself into motion. Found the parcel, neatly tied: Amelia Argent’s rose varietals were an award-winning legend, and she kept notes so meticulous that Oxford scholars came by, on occasion, to have hushed and serious discussions about cross-breeding and hybridization. “That ought to be enough for the next few months, unless she’s got royal botanists again.”

Valentine’s mouth quirked. “You make them sound like an infestation.”

“A disruption. They wander around looking at flowers in shop windows and end up blocking the lanes.” He decided this was unjust, added, “At least they also buy writing-paper.”

“Writing. Yes.” Valentine gazed at him, as Violet came around the counter. A pillar of tall sunshine, dressed up in unobtrusively expensive dark blue and grey, his eyes held a question, an interest. “I thought someone older owned the stationer’s. Or…I suppose I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t think about it.”

Violet tried not to feel too small, too plain, too ordinary, under that scrutiny. His own brown hair, brown eyes, not at all sun-kissed winter-pale skin. Shortness. Bits of green and pink pulp under his nails. “You can hardly be expected to know anything about Hartswell.”

“Because I’ve not been here, is that what you mean?”

It was, but Violet felt guilty in the wake of his own irritation. Captain Argent had answered without rancor, with simple understanding: yes, that indeed made sense, of course the village felt so.

He now felt irritated about feeling guilty, which was not at all a pleasant sensation. “You’ve been a bit busy. Commanding a ship in Her Majesty’s Navy and all. We do understand.”

When he held out the parcel, Valentine reached to take it. Their fingers, ungloved, brushed.

The touch was only a touch. Skin to skin. Straightforward. A startlement.

An intimacy. The light chill in Valentine’s hand, from the cold. The long callused strength of those fingers. The sensation skimming along Violet’s own fingers, sensitive after hours spent in water and pulp and vats, because of course that must be it, that must be why the shiver.

Valentine made an abrupt movement, fumbled journals to the other arm, caught Violet’s hand. Made a dismayed sound. “Are you injured? Your fingers—”

Violet, who had not had anyone fuss over him in at least a decade, much less the man he’d not-entirely-decided to dislike, blinked at those wide blue eyes, the sudden concern; and could say nothing.

“This red…” Valentine cradled Violet’s hand in his. “No, wait, that’s not…”

“Oh. It’s dye.” He could see why the captain might have thought otherwise; the line did look as if a slice had opened along the side of his index finger. He did not know why Valentine had seemed so worried. “I was working on some valentine-cards, and red is popular. It’ll come off with scrubbing.”

Valentine exhaled. Then seemed to recall that he was still holding Violet’s hand, and let go, hastily. “My apologies. That was…rather dramatic of me. I’m sorry—er—I don’t know your name. Mr Merriman, given the shop sign?”

“I suppose,” Violet said. His hand felt unaccountably abandoned. “The shop was my father’s, first. Though it’s only me, now. Violet Merriman, Hartswell’s stationer, paper-maker, book-binder if it isn’t anything antique or fancy.”

“Some of those journals look decidedly fancy.”

“And you’re Captain Valentine Argent.”

Valentine shifted weight, at that; hesitated. “Just Valentine. Val. To friends. If you’d like.”

“Why on earth do you think we’re—never mind.” Something about the rank? The name? Some flash of pain, or regret? Something that made Valentine Argent, darling of Hartswell and heir to the Manor, uncomfortable? “Was that parcel all you needed?”

“I thought it was,” Valentine said, “but I’m beginning to think I should need more. Does everyone in Hartswell feel as you do? That I’ve been—neglectful?”

“Oh. Oh, no—no, most of the village finds you an object of fascination, I promise!” And now he’d inadvertently laid a hand upon Valentine’s arm, amid the protest.

He had not meant to do so, but it’d been an instinct. A gesture. Because something in those sea-dawn eyes had been off-balance, and that’d tipped the world off-balance too, scattering Violet’s assumptions. “You’re beautifully mysterious and charming and rich in prize-money and some sort of national hero after the adventure with the pirates. Everyone’s hoping you’re here to stay, to settle down with a local eligible young lady or gentleman, and of course they’d all be thrilled to have you.”

Valentine’s mouth did the wry pretty sideways quirk again. “Would they?”

“Ask anyone. Well, nearly. Mrs Hunt would prefer you not interfere with her very hopeful plans for her daughter and Squire Randall’s niece, so please don’t flirt with Maria Hunt if you can help it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I have thought of something else I need, though.”

“Oh—anything for yourself, if you’re staying some time? Writing-journals, papers, cards?” Violet had no idea why his mouth added, “Valentine-cards, perhaps, for the flirtations?”

Valentine sighed. Adjusted the parcel. His hair was so blond, long enough to fall over his coat-collar, quicksilver and moonlight against the frame of the shop and the shelves. “Perhaps I should simply go.”

“No,” Violet managed to say. “My apologies. It was not a good joke. What did you need?”

The Love Is Free charity anthology is out now from JMS Books – over 50 short stories in various LGBTQ flavors, all under 5k words! All proceeds will be donated to the ACLU!

My contribution is a new little short for Gareth and Lorre from Magician, if you’d like a glimpse of them on an afternoon off, visiting a museum…and a piece of Lorre’s past…

Amazon link here!
JMS Books (25% off through Jan 31) link here!