My Personal Review for As You Are by Ethan Day

I love Ethan Day and his book. There I said it and there is no twelve step program to get involved in either to cure me of this addiction. Not because I find this author’s books charming, out loud funny and romantic in the least but because I don’t consider myself as having a problem at all.*grins* 


AS YOU ARE has two people finding out they are just right for one another but first they need to confront themselves and their perceptions of what love really is. Is it just like those old Hollywood glamor movies where the hero sweeps the heroine (or hero in this case) off their feet or is it more complex than that?


Julian Hallowell is a man who knows that "THE ONE" will swoop down and give him the full "I Love you, Man" speech and sweep him off his feet. Well he hopes anyways. Julian has been in love with his roommate, Danny, for over a year and though the path to true love is never smooth says it all. Through the course of the story, we find Julian finally seeing that hey Danny isn't really into you at all and finds himself dating Andy, a nice young man who turns Julian on like no tomorrow and tries to forget his feelings for Danny. I just love the fact Julian was as complicated and had insecurities like everyone else. He wasn't perfect which had me liking him even more.Perfect characters annoy me and Julian was far from perfect. He had the perfect love in his head and nothing and no one was going to deny him that-even as the reader & Julian found out, love is messy and doesn't always go according to plan.  


AS YOU ARE is one of those stories where you, the reader, find you want these people to be your friend in real life. The characters are multi-dimensional, delightful and absolutely enjoyable-warts and all. The writing is tight and story moves along at a nice pace. The author knows his characters and keeps the reader glued till the very end when the reader will find out if Julian gets his happily ever after with Andy or not.

Mr. Day delivers funny, romantic, real story that will leave you giggling at times and sighing at other times. A talented author, Ethan Day delivers another winner in AS YOU ARE and I, for one, can not wait to see what else this author has in store for his readers in the future. I am sure it will include snarky and wonderful heroes who find that love is not that smooth path they thought all along.Want to read a story that leaves a smile on your face? Grab AS YOU ARE and settle in for an afternoon of reading pleasure. I would hope Ethan comes back to Julian in the future. I would love to see what he has been up to along with all his family and friends.

My Review for His For The Holidays Anthology

His For The Holidays
Josh Lanyon, LB Gregg, ZA Maxfield & Harper Fox
Carina Press
Contemporary M/M Holidays
4 out of 5

Four stories of families, Christmas antics and the magic of the season as these talented authors transport the reader when reading HIS FOR THE HOLIDAYS.

First up is author L. B. Gregg’s Mistletoe At Midnight, a charming tale of first love revisited, forgiveness and magic all within the confines of a family who enjoy meddling. Can a man find a way to have his first love in his life again this Christmas?

 I have to admit, this author’s contribution had me in stitches. I loved the dynamics between Owen and his family, who all seemed to want to meddle in the poor man’s love life. The characters fairly stepped of the page and within a matter of minutes I was drawn into a story that had me flipping the pages with eager abandon, looking to see what would happen next for Owen and Caleb. If you haven’t read on of this author’s books, try the latest novella from LB Gregg and get ready to grin your way to a wonderful Christmas.

Next up was Harper Fox’s Nine Lights Over Edinburgh and one that I found a little too heavy for this anthology. Don’t get me wrong, it was a well written story but it felt out of place with the other books and light-heartedness of the stories in HIS FOR THE HOLIDAYS. The characters were well written and the story flowed nicely. I haven’t read one of this author’s books before and plan to check out the backlist to see if there are any more to read over the holidays. 

Third up is I Heard Him Exclaim by Z. A. Maxfield and found it utterly charming. The story was well told, the characters well written and the romance between Steve and Chandler was sweet and at times, so very hot I thought the computer screen was going to melt. I haven’t read one of this author’s books before but found the novella in this anthology to be a perfect introduction to this author’s writing. I am eager to see what else I can find to enjoy in the backlist of titles by this author.

          Finally, author Josh Lanyon delivers Icecapade, a story of a jewel thief turned novelist and his nemesis, FBI detective finding love after a decade of being apart. Just one teeny problem…the detective thinks he is the one who is robbing houses and is determined to put Noel behind bars…for good. Can Noel show Robert that he is a reformed thief?

          Josh Lanyon is a master at creating complex characters and making them completely lovable. Noel and Robert is a perfect pair together and though Robert comes after Noel, convinced he is a thief still, Noel finds a way to melt his icy heart. Vulnerable and sexy, the way this author creates his books leaves the reader with magic from beginning to end. I am hoping the author comes back to Noel and Robert again in the future. I would love to read more about them.

          HIS FOR THE HOLIDAYS is a perfect mix of fun and lightheartedness within the magic of Christmas. Each author delivers a wonderful novella that will keep you highly entertained from beginning to end. If you are looking for a sweet anthology to explore, then grab HIS FOR THE HOLIDAYS and settle in for an afternoon of reading fun. I look forward to finding out what these authors have in store for their readers in the future.

Talking with author Rachel West

Tell us a bit about your latest book, and what inspired you to write such a story.

My latest book is called The Cellmate.  It’s the story of two men who fall in love in the unlikeliest of places: a shared prison cell.  As for what inspired me to write it, I’m never sure how to answer that question, since I don’t really know where any of my story ideas come from!  All I can say is that I had a picture in my head of what became the first sex scene in the book: two men having hushed, very impersonal sex, with no kissing, very little talking, very little tenderness.  And yet somehow, it was clear that it meant something more than that to both of them.  I kept wondering about what the story was behind that image, and I couldn’t get it out of my head, so finally I had to write it down and see where it took me, and this book was the end result. 

How would you describe your creative process while writing this book? Was it stream-of-consciousness writing, or did you first write an outline?

I’m usually very much a planner, but this one was definitely not planned.  I just started writing and kept going, and let the characters tell me where the story went next. 

Did your book require a lot of research?

I don’t spend too much time in the book on the details of prison life, so no, it didn’t require much research.  The one bit of research I did do was to investigate how accessible condoms are in prison, but I didn’t like the answer I got!  I just couldn’t see this particular pair of guys having sex without protection, so I decided that they were in one of the few prisons in America that is smart enough to make condoms available to its inmates.  I hope people will forgive me a bit of creative license there.

If you could have any vice without repercussions, what would it be?

Eating, definitely.  I would make it possible for me to indulge in any food I liked, as much as I liked, with no repercussions for my body or health.

If you could have been the servant to any famous person in history, who would that be and why?

Forget history -- I’ll take Rachel Maddow, right now.  I’d love to have a job just following her around all day. 

What so you see for the future of publishing and ebooks?

I’m just getting started in publishing (The Cellmate is only my second book), so I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer that one.  But I do think ebooks are only going to continue to get more and more popular, as it seems all forms of media are moving more and more to the digital format -- CDs are giving way to MP3s, DVDs to downloadable movies, newspapers to news websites.  So it only makes sense that books would follow the same path.

Which of your characters do you love/hate/fear/pity the most and why?

Goodness, I think I love all of them, even the ones I wouldn’t really want to hang out with in real life.  Even the “bad guy” characters are like my misbehaving children, in a way. Well, maybe except for a tiny character named Morris in The Cellmate.  He’s an out-and-out bad guy, so I’ll put him in the “hate” category, and maybe “fear” as well.  And I do have a bit of pity for one of the characters in my other book, Everything Under the Sun, but I can’t say which one without giving away the ending!

Do you get along with your muse? What do you do to placate her when she refuses to inspire you?

I wish I had an answer for that.  My latest project has been stuck in neutral for quite a while.  My only trick to placate her has been to turn to other things, so I’ve been writing a lot of fanfiction and finding other ways to entertain myself.  But I’d love to know a trick to get her back on track.

Do you have another book in the works? Would you like to tell readers about your current or future projects?

Yep, the project I’m working on now is hopefully going to become my third book, if I can ever finish it.  It’s a road trip story about two college-aged boyfriends who drive across the US together and learn a lot about each other on the way.

Have you ever experienced weird cravings while you write? If so, what kind?

I experience weird cravings regularly.  But I’m not sure they’re connected to my writing.

What are your top 3 favorite paranormal books and movies?

I have to confess I’m not much of a paranormal fan, so I don’t have a lot to choose from here.  But I did like The Shining a lot, both the book and the movie.  Poltergeist will always hold a special place in my heart because it was the first movie to completely terrify me (I saw it when I was probably way to young to do so!) and I did like The Sixth Sense.

What character (s) in any of your books is most like you?

Probably Alex in Everything Under the Sun.  Just not as good-looking.

What is the most ridiculous thing that you have thought about doing to any of your characters but never did?

I guess I need to think more creatively! I don’t think there’s anything really ridiculous that I’ve planned for any of these guys, except for stuff I went ahead and had them do. :)

What books are currently on your nightstand?

I’m such a nerd. I’m currently working on a book called Blind Descent: The Quest to Discover the Deepest Place on Earth, by James M. Tabor, which is a non-fiction book about cave exploration. I can only read one book at a time, so that’s it at the moment.

If someone hasn't read any of your work, what book would you recommend that they start with and why?

I think Everything Under the Sun is probably more typical of the kind of thing I want to write from here on out, so I guess I’d start with that one.  But there are only two to choose from, so either one’s fine with me!

Where can we find you on the web?

I’d love for you to visit me at http://rachel-west.livejournal.com.  Thank you!

Excerpt from The Cellmate (http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=1888):

Chapter 1

Andy lay still on his thin mattress, staring into the darkness. It was cold in the cell, and the worn old blanket he’d been given wasn’t helping much. But that wasn’t why he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t believe his life had come to this. A stupid mistake, an out-of-control night of drinking, a monumentally bad decision to get behind the wheel. And then there were screeching brakes and breaking glass and a lot of other, much worse sounds. Sounds that hadn’t left his head in the ten months that had passed since, months of subpoenas and lawyers and hearings and judgment. And now here he was, a convict, lying in the tiny cell that would be his home for a very, very long time. He was an awfully long way from the luxurious home he’d grown up in back in Altoona, and not just in terms of miles.

He heard his cellmate shifting on his own mattress and closed his eyes, turning toward the wall. Cohen was tall, intimidating, downright terrifying. Black hair and strong features with eyes that weren’t just blue, but ice-blue, like glaciers. Nothing like Andy’s eyes, which were so dark they hardly seemed blue at all unless he was laughing. That’s what his mother used to say, anyway, that they got lighter when he laughed. But she wasn’t to be trusted—she also referred to Andy’s hair as “strawberry blond” when it had only ever been Howdy Doody red.

Anyway, Cohen wasn’t like that at all. Or maybe he was. Maybe his eyes changed color when he laughed, too, but Andy sure wouldn’t have any way of knowing it. Cohen’s face had shown no emotion when they’d been introduced early that morning, and he’d barely looked at Andy since. Andy had no idea what the guy was in for, but he thought maybe it was better he didn’t. He would just stay away from Cohen, and Cohen would stay away from him.

Andy had decided months ago that it was better to face things on his own. It was why he’d broken up with Dean, why he had stopped returning his friends’ calls, why he didn’t really talk to his parents anymore. Not really. Not like he used to. He had let everybody down, and he couldn’t bear to cause anyone any more pain. So he was alone. It was better that way. But now that he was really alone, sleeping in a tiny, dark cell for the first of many, many nights to come, he suddenly felt lonely. For the first time in a long time, he wanted someone to hold him, to touch him, to take care of him. He felt so small.

Suddenly, he heard a soft noise behind him and felt a body crawl onto his mattress. Eyes flying open, he tried to sit up, turn around, but a strong hand held him in place.

“Cohen… what…?”

“Shh.”

One hand was on Andy’s hip while another slid under his shirt, stroking the skin of his back, surprisingly gentle. Andy’s breath caught in his throat. Is this how it went in prison? Did you just get taken, grabbed? Smaller man belonging to bigger man? Only that’s not how this felt. This wasn’t the touch of someone preparing to take advantage of him, to rape him. This was the touch of a lover.

Cohen’s hand slid around to Andy’s stomach now, still touching so softly, caressing. He felt a mouth at the spot where his neck met his shoulder, kissing, biting. Andy’s breathing grew faster. His cock was beginning to respond. But he stayed frozen, body tense, hands in fists, eyes wide open. When Cohen’s hand sank a little lower, grazing his crotch over the pants of his prison uniform, he whimpered.

“Do you want this?” Cohen whispered, his mouth against Andy’s ear. And Andy closed his eyes again. The truth was, he did want this. His relationship with Dean had never been that great, but he did miss being touched this way, feeling this closeness, holding another body against his own. He’d been alone for too long. He needed someone with him tonight.

“Yes,” he whispered back, not turning his head. And Cohen’s hands were moving faster now, lifting Andy’s shirt off, throwing it on the floor with his own. Andy tried again to turn around, but Cohen held him in place, stroking his palm over Andy’s back, sliding it down to tug Andy’s pants and underwear down to his knees. The hand disappeared for a minute, and Andy heard a sucking sound and realized that Cohen was coating his fingers in saliva, getting ready. His cock grew harder. But when Cohen’s fingers grazed his hole, he reached back suddenly, grabbing Cohen’s wrist, looking over his shoulder. “Wait.”

“What?” Cohen was looking down, his muscles tense. He refused to meet Andy’s gaze.

“Cohen….” Andy’s voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask. He’d never done it like this, so impersonal, so meaningless. They hadn’t even kissed, and somehow Andy knew better than to try. As he gazed at Cohen’s gorgeous features in the dark room, he decided he was okay with that. But he still needed… something. “I don’t… I don’t even know your first name.”

“It’s Jesse.” Andy stared for another beat, trying to will Jesse’s eyes to meet his own, but it wasn’t happening. Gazing at him, he realized with a start that Jesse was just as young as he was: nineteen, maybe twenty. He looked just as scared as he was too. And God, he was gorgeous up close, and with his shirt off…. God. Maybe he was over-thinking this.

“Okay,” he said, and he turned back around.

When the first finger pushed inside him, Andy gasped, tucking his head into his chest, closing his eyes tight. This was all that mattered tonight, this feeling. Jesse’s finger pressed against his prostate, and Andy moaned low. “Jesse….”

“Shh.” Another finger joined the first, pushing, stretching. Andy moved his hips, searching for more, trying to be quiet. Suddenly, the fingers withdrew and he heard the rustle of Jesse’s clothing, then the tear of the condom wrapper. He heard Jesse slide it onto his dick, then spit into his palm, coating the latex with saliva. Andy clutched the mattress, preparing for what was to come.

And then there it was: Jesse’s cock, thick and hard and pressing inside, filling him up. Andy moaned low, white-knuckling the mattress now. He had missed this so much.

When he was all the way in, Jesse paused, breathing hard against Andy’s shoulder, his grip tight on Andy’s hip. Then slowly, gently, he began to move. Andy moved with him, pushing his ass back to meet each thrust, his mind clear of everything but this feeling, this fullness. There was no room for anything else.

Jesse grunted behind him with each thrust as he picked up his pace, his breath hot against Andy’s skin. There were no kisses, no words of tenderness, no words at all. Andy leaned his head back, his mouth open on a moan, and Jesse’s hand slid off his hip and grabbed his cock, beginning to stroke. He bit down on Andy’s neck again as Andy reached behind him, searching for Jesse’s back, pulling him in deeper. When his hand found Jesse’s ass, Jesse grunted in approval and pushed a little harder.

“Yes…,” Andy whispered. “Jesse….” Jesse’s breath was coming even faster now, and Andy knew he was close. “A little more… just a little more… don’t stop….” He felt the familiar tightening in his balls, and before he could get out a warning, it was over, he was coming, covering Jesse’s hand. With three more quick thrusts and a strangled groan, Jesse came too, burying himself deep in Andy’s ass, pressing him tight.

They lay that way for a few moments, breathing heavy, and then Jesse pulled out, pulled his pants back up, and quietly eased out of the bed. Andy stayed where he was, staring at the wall, not speaking. After a few minutes, he closed his eyes. And eventually, he fell asleep.

The next day, they didn’t talk about it, as Andy had pretty much figured they wouldn’t. Jesse went about his day in stoic silence, barely speaking to anyone. He didn’t sit with Andy at mealtimes. He hardly acknowledged Andy at all. Andy was okay with that. He had enough to deal with, learning the rules of his new environment and figuring out who he could trust and who he couldn’t. He was used to being alone by now. He wasn’t looking for a friend.

But that night, when the lights were out, Andy lay on his mattress listening to Jesse breathing and found himself hoping Jesse would join him again. The sex had been good, Jesse’s fingers expert, his touch exhilarating, his cock spectacular. But more than that, Andy wanted that closeness again, the intimacy of being with another person again. He rolled onto his side, facing the wall like he had the night before, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling when he felt Jesse climb onto the mattress behind him. They did it just the same way as before, not facing each other, no kisses, no words. And it was so good, so good. Their bodies moved together as if they were made for this, made for each other. And when Andy came, Jesse moaned, as if feeling Andy’s come shoot onto his hand was as erotic for him as any part of it. He came a few short thrusts later, and Andy clung to his ass, holding him inside, wanting to draw out this moment for as long as he possibly could.

As the weeks went by, Andy began to relax a little. He found a few guys he could talk to, and he and Jesse were even starting to become friends. The day he first got Jesse to smile, just a quick reaction to a stupid joke Andy made about mystery meat, Andy wanted to pump his fist in the air in victory. But he restrained himself. They still didn’t talk about what went on at night. Every night. Andy told himself he was fine with that. He could have a fuck buddy without falling in love. He was sure he could. And Jesse, God, gorgeous fucking Jesse—what fool would kick that man out of his bed, no matter what the circumstances? So he followed Jesse’s unstated rules, never touched him outside the cell, never let on that they were anything more than cellmates. Which maybe they weren’t. Maybe everybody did this at night. Andy didn’t really want to know.

It did bother Andy that Jesse wouldn’t kiss him, though. He had tried a few times, tried to turn around when Jesse got into his bed, tried to touch him, but Jesse would never allow it. With never anything more than a firm hand and a silent shake of his head, Jesse pushed him gently away. He never forced himself on Andy, and Andy knew that a single “no” from him would be enough to stop everything, but there were certain lines that would simply not be crossed. Andy wondered about that. But for now, he let it go.

The day the letter from Dean arrived, everything began to change. Andy knew Jesse saw his face when he was handed the envelope, and how he stuffed it into his pocket without opening it, but neither of them said anything. Only later, when they were standing side by side on KP duty, washing endless piles of dishes, did Jesse ask about it. “Are you going to read that letter?”

Andy bit his lip, not turning his head from his work. “No,” he said quietly. They washed in silence for several more minutes, and Andy knew he could let it go at that and Jesse wouldn’t press him on it. But Andy had always been a talker, and eventually the silence got to him. “It’s just… it’s from somebody I hurt. And I don’t really want to hear what he has to say.”

“Oh.” Jesse stared at the dishes in front of him, his hands going about their task mechanically. “So… who is it?”

“My ex-boyfriend. It didn’t end well, and I just—”

“Your ex-boyfriend?” Jesse turned to stare at him, clinging to an armful of plates, his mouth dropping open. “You—you’re gay?”

Andy stared back, puzzled. “Well, yeah. I mean, obviously. Didn’t you kind of figure that out from the—”

With a loud clatter, Jesse threw the entire pile of plates into the sink, his face filling with anger. “I’m not a fucking fag,” he said, and he stormed out. Andy stared after him.What the hell just happened?

Jesse avoided him for the rest of that day. Every time Andy approached him, Jesse turned away. When he tried to sit with him at dinner, Jesse picked up his tray and moved to a different table. Eventually, Andy stopped trying.

But at night, it was just the two of them in the cell. Andy lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. I will not talk first. I will not talk first.

Unfortunately, staying quiet had never been Andy’s strong suit. “What the fuck happened today?” he said, his voice echoing in the dark room. Jesse didn’t respond.The silent treatment, Andy thought, chuckling inwardly. I don’t think so.

Sitting up in a rush, he climbed out of bed and went to Jesse, who was lying flat on his back, his arms crossed over his chest. Without hesitating, Andy climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. “Hey!” Jesse protested, trying to push Andy away. “What the fuck?”

But Andy seized both of Jesse’s hands and pinned them down to the mattress, fixing Jesse with an intense gaze. “You’re going to talk to me,” he said. Internally, he knew Jesse was stronger and could toss him off like a sack of potatoes if he wanted to. But he also knew enough about Jesse by now to know that the brooding, tough-guy exterior was nothing but an act, that Jesse wasn’t capable of actually hurting anyone. At least, he hoped he was right about that.

Jesse glared at him, but he didn’t pull his arms free. “Get off of me,” he muttered.

“No.”

“Andy—”

“What was that? Why did you get so mad?”

Jesse bit his lip, and Andy saw it again. That fear that he saw the first night. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to draw Jesse into his arms, comfort him, tell him everything would be all right. But he didn’t. “I just—I didn’t know you were gay,” Jesse said finally. “I mean, you know… outside of here.”

“And you’re not.”

“No!” The anger was back, and Jesse struggled with his wrists. But Andy pressed down a little harder, and the struggling stopped. “I—this is—I never did anything like this before I came here.”

Andy paused, wondering how to respond. He knew there were plenty of guys at the prison who fucked guys only because there were no women around. But he was sure, absolutely sure, that Jesse was not one of those guys. The way he touched Andy’s body, caressing it, worshipping it… the way he kissed his neck, so tenderly… the way Andy’s every moan seemed to turn him on even further…. No, Jesse was not one of those guys. But maybe that was a conversation for another time. There was something else going on here. “Okay,” he said slowly. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

Jesse stared up at him, silently, defiantly, waiting. Shit. He had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Almost as wide as Andy’s.

“Why did you get so mad when you found out I have an ex-boyfriend?” Jesse looked away, wincing almost imperceptibly at the word, and Andy suddenly got it. “Oh, my God,” he said softly. “You’re jealous.”

Jesse whipped his head back around, his brow furrowing in anger, and this time he did pull his hands away, pushing Andy off him, scooting back to the other side of the mattress. “What the hell are you talking about? I am not.”

“You are,” Andy said, marveling at it.

“Bingham, why would I give a fuck how many guys have fucked my faggot-ass cellmate up the ass? Why would I give a flying ass fuck?”

That hurt, and Andy failed to hide it. “Fuck you,” he said, his voice straining, and he stood up, climbing back into his own uncomfortable bed. But as the minutes passed and they lay listening to each other breathing, he found he couldn’t leave it at that. “Because maybe I’m not just your cellmate anymore,” he said.

There was no reply.

Hours later, Andy awoke to a familiar hand on his hip, a familiar weight on the mattress behind him. “You have got to be kidding me,” he said, pulling away. But the hand returned, gently rolling him onto his back, and Jesse’s face was hovering over his.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said quietly. He was stretched on his side, propped on an elbow, and his eyes searched Andy’s face, hopeful, sad. Tentatively, he reached out and placed a hand on Andy’s cheek, stroking it gently. Just as Andy’s brain caught up to the fact that Jesse was touching him while looking at him for the first time in the month and a half since he’d come to this godforsaken place, he noticed that Jesse’s gaze was shifting to his mouth, then to his eyes again. Oh, my God, he thought. But before he could formulate much more, it was happening, Jesse’s lips were on his, pressing gently, then pulling back, a soft, perfect kiss.

“You’re an asshole,” Andy whispered, but his hand was moving of its own accord, sliding up Jesse’s strong arm, finding its way to the back of Jesse’s neck. Jesse nodded, opening his mouth to speak again, but Andy covered it with his own, pulling Jesse’s body down on top of him. And Jesse kissed him back, sliding his tongue into Andy’s mouth, moaning into the kiss, and Andy’s hands covered Jesse’s back, pulling him in close, feeling Jesse’s cock harden against him as the kiss deepened. Nope, definitely not one of those guys, he thought, and he smiled. Jesse broke the kiss, smiling back at him, and Andy’s breath caught in his throat. God, you’re beautiful. But he knew better than to say it out loud.

Jesse kissed him again. And that night, they made love for the very first time.

Talking With Author KC Burns

Hello!  Thanks, Dawn, for letting me blog here!  Here’s a quick intro – I’m KC Burn, and my first release was in March from Loose Id – MIA Case Files: Wolfsbane.  I’ve got a blurb and excerpt up at my site if you want to take a look.  But I’m here today to talk about one of my favourite topics – expletives.  Or, maybe they’re more a favourite pastime than a topic!

I recently wrote a blog post on my own site about expletives, and why I find them useful and appealing.  However, I focused solely on contemporary expletives and the creative use of them.  What I didn’t delve into is the creativity and effort required by fantasy and sci-fi writers as regards to swear words.

I believe swear words, curse words and foul language are all very necessary, valuable tools, especially in writing.  They can create tension, they can reveal character traits, and they can help give immediacy and realism to a scene or dialogue.  But the ones we use today, no matter how creatively applied, may appear out of place in sci-fi or fantasy.  A few short words can break the world-building spell.  And yet, I know from personal experience how agonizing it can be to create swear words that fit into your imaginary world. 

Many current swear words have been around for a long time.  For some, their origins are commonly known, others are more obscure.  They may also be reflective of cultural mores and ideas that no longer exist!  That’s a lot of work for one little word or phrase. 

One example that comes to mind is “blimey.”  Not used much in North America, and although I’ve heard it used on British television, I’m not sure how common it is.  What I do know is that it originated from the phrase “God blind me”, which then got shortened to “gor’blimey” and from there to “blimey”.  It’s an evolution which tells us that expletives are not always simple or easy, no matter how trippingly they fall off the tongue.

Sci-fi writers have the luxury of choosing, if they wish, to use expletives we’re all familiar with, especially if the future they write about isn’t far off.  Fantasy writers, however, need to make up words that have a wealth of meaning or weight of history for their characters, possibly involving back story, religion, or historical events that may never be described explicitly in the story.    

One of the first times I noticed this phenomenon was well before I started writing seriously.  Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonriders of Pern use the expletive “shells” and “shards”, among others.  The survival of Pern’s people is dependent on dragons and these expletives reference the shells of the eggs their dragons are hatched from.  While these aren’t based on religion (as many are), there’s a lot of history, culture and sentiment embodied in the words. 

David Eddings’ Belgariad/Mallorean is another great example.  There’s the colorful “by One Eye’s nose” or “Torak’s teeth”.  The polytheistic world David Eddings created provides ample fodder for curse words, which are based on the religion of the peoples in the book.

Most of the sci-fi I read uses contemporary expletives, but Red Dwarf by Grant Naylor uses the word “smeg” in the place of another extremely flexible four letter word.

While my own book is a virtual bounty of expletives, they’re all fairly standard, current ones.  The futuristic romance I’m working on?  The first draft had the phrase “futuristic curse” scattered throughout because I knew I needed to put some serious and focused thought into them and I didn’t want to interrupt the flow of the story at the time to do so. 

So, lay some of your favourite sci-fi/fantasy swear words on me (but keep it clean, please - I’m guest here in someone else’s house!) or let me know your thoughts on making up expletives – does it add realism to a book’s setting and characters, or is it completely extraneous?  I’ll give away a copy of my ebook to a commenter.

www.kcburn.com
www.twitter.com/authorkcburn
MIA Case Files: Wolfsbane - available from Loose Id

Link 1: http://www.kcburn.com/books?utm_source=dbn&utm_medium=blog&utm_campaign=swear1
Link 2: http://www.kcburn.com/?utm_source=dbn&utm_medium=blog&utm_campaign=swear2

Support the efforts of ARe and the case of Greene vs. County of Sonoma et al.

About Our Efforts

This story illustrates how strong and supportive our community has become. Time and again we're blown away by how generous our readers and authors are when it comes to supporting charitable efforts. The idea for this endeavor was sparked by TeddyPig of The Naughty Bits Blog fame. When he read about the case of Greene V. County of Sonoma et al., it bothered him. It really bothered him. Teddy went to the website of the organization representing Clay Greene in the case, the NCLR, and he made a donation. But he didn't stop there. He spent the next several days drumming up support for the cause, and one of his first steps was to reach out to us. 

The story of Clay and Harold made Teddy remember a book he'd purchased from us, Henry and Jim by J.M. Snyder. Teddy suggested that perhaps we might be willing to donate a portion of our proceeds from the sale of Henry and Jim we received a pledge of 25% of the proceeds on all JMS Book titles, and we agreed to match it. to the NCLR for the month of May. We contacted J.M Snyder and heard back within hours. Not only was J.M. willing to donate 25% of the proceeds from the sale of that title,

About the case- Click HERE

About the NCLR- Click HERE

What you can do to help-Click HERE to find out