Writing takes discipline. There’s no way around it. In order to be successful at writing you have to write. Get the words on the page. Keep going until you have a scene and then add to it until you reach the ending of the story.

So how do I get started and how do I keep my motivation high? First things first. I’ve started getting up early in the morning and looking at my to do list. Whatever writing goal I have set for the day gets first priority. I write and I don’t allow myself to get up until I’ve met my morning writing goal. There have been days that I’ve gone for a run or worked out and then immediately started writing, without getting a shower. You’ll be surprised how quickly the words come when you need to do something else, like shower!  Once you get your writing done first thing in the morning you’re more likely to come back that afternoon and write some more. I know. I’ve done it.

So if you are looking for a way to meet your word count, stop over thinking it and sit down before you do anything else on your to do list. Once it’s out of the way you’ll be surprised how smoothly your day will run.

About the Author

Jodi is the author of the RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES series and writes paranormal romance as well as contemporary romance. Born and raised in Mississippi, her deep Southern roots and love of the paranormal led her to write Southern Paranormal novels. When she is not conversing with characters in her head, she can be found at her home in Northeast Arkansas with her handsome husband, brilliant son, a temperamental swan, and yellow lab that is fond of retrieving turtles when duck season is over.

Find her on Facebook, Jodi Vaughn, author.
Follow her on Twitter @JodiVaughn1
Sign up for her newsletter and check out her website https://jodivaughn.com
Find her on Instagram at VaughnJodi

Who loves a good knight in shining armor tale? Or maybe an overlord who’s domineering, who has a friend who’s a bit of a smartass? What sort of woman would attract them both? I “heart” Gisele big-time! She’s tart, smart and lusty.

Well, this is my latest “new-old” story—one I recently got back the rights for. I gave it a polish and my sister made a pretty cover for me, and here it is. I hope you enjoy this peak inside…

And if you answer this question, you will be entered to win a free download of one of these Night Fall stories: Sm{B}itten; Truly, Madly…Deadly; or Knight in Transition.

Are you a fan of medieval tales? Are they something
you’d like to see more of from me?

Gisele, “The Witch of Grimoult”, has ended a long vow of celibacy, taken to ensure her independence from any man. Her new lover, Tibor the sheriff, isn’t any real threat because his reputation assures her he won’t be a possessive man. He’s lusty and charming, but the last thing he wants is to saddle himself with one woman.

When a wolf threatens her livelihood, she seeks aid from the new “Lord Grim”, never anticipating his price will be a night in his bed. What’s a woman to do? Lord Grim’s possessive stare and fierce loving make her crave his mastery of her body. But then, the wolf injures the sheriff, Gisele and Lord Grim pull together to save him from becoming a monster.

Purchase here

Excerpt from Lord Grim’s Witch:

Gisele had heard the new Lord Grimoult was a mountain of a man, strong and courageous in battle and wise as Solomon in his judgments. Which was exactly why she’d come—for protection and justice.

What she hadn’t heard was that he could leave a woman trembling and damp with one searing glance.

The moment his gaze lifted from the scroll spread over the table in front of him, she forgot how to breathe. When the room began to teeter, she drew a deep breath to steady herself and stepped over the threshold into his chamber, all the while scolding herself sternly for the lapse.

What was one devilishly handsome man?

He was flanked at the oak table by another sinfully attractive specimen—one she’d easily resisted a second time after their late-night tryst. She’d sent the sheriff on his way after the wolf had already done its damage.

Just as dark, just as well made, the sheriff had never sent her belly into quivers or caused her nipples to sprout against her gown just from a look.

Perhaps it was the power Lord “Grim” embodied—his will ruled everyone within this demesne, including her. Certainly, her arousal had nothing to do with the thick, black hair that fell in heavy coils to his muscled shoulders. Her interest couldn’t be piqued by the moustache and beard framing a lush mouth any woman would envy. The dark brows casting deep shadows over eyes as black as a moonless sky at midnight weren’t the cause of her fluttering heartbeat or the sinking feeling that quickly swamped her with unwanted reminders she’d remained celibate for far too long. One night with the handsome sheriff hadn’t quenched her need.

She was nervous—that was all. And perhaps primed for arousal by her wicked romp the previous night.

Hopefully, it was just the lure of the unknown. When she learned the new master’s true nature, he would be as easily dismissed from her thoughts as every man she’d ever encountered, including the sheriff.

But she must find his faults and quickly. If she could happen upon the one that would render his appeal null, she’d fare better in the long run. The sheriff had drawn her eye when he’d first taken up his duty—he was handsome and dark like she preferred. Yet she’d catalogued his physical and character flaws to firm her resistance against his beauty. His hair wasn’t a deep, dark chestnut—it was closer to the color of the mud beneath her sheep trough. His eyes weren’t as green as spring grass—they were more like the sludgy moss that grew at the bottom of her well bucket. And she’d cleaned it thoroughly to remove the ugly sludge—just as she had her attraction to the sheriff—after she’d satisfied her carnal curiosity.

Ballocks! The sheriff had caught her staring and no doubt noted her scowl. His sly smile deepened, and he sat back in his chair as though waiting for the entertainment to begin.

Did he think he knew her well enough to surmise her attraction to their overlord?

Gisele stepped deeper into the lord’s chamber just as his steward bent to whisper in his ear.

Again, Lord Grim’s glance sliced through her, and the room began to spin—or were her knees wobbling? Whichever was true, she drew another deep breath and cursed the fact this was the man she’d come to beg a boon. He was too large, too imposing—and far too handsome for her not to stare and stutter in his presence. Even seated, with only his upper body visible, she knew his height and breadth would dwarf her slender frame. And she preferred large men.

“The witch, sire,” the steward said, his lip curling in distaste. “She insisted on speaking with you. Egbert was afraid to deny her entrance lest she curse him with pox. I tried to dissuade her, but she was quite insistent.”

She chafed at the idiot’s derision. Like so many in the demesne, she was welcomed only when her cures were needed. At all other times, she was reviled—even feared. Yet the new lord’s expression held only curiosity as his gaze slipped from her face to her breasts and lower.

Gisele unclenched her hands, which were buried in the folds of her gown and forced them to relax at her sides. She did her best to ignore the heat that singed every place his gaze touched and tried to remember the chill autumn wind that had cut through her gown on the trek here.

Growing more nervous by the moment, she wanted to say her piece and be gone. His lordship would grant her request—or not. The sooner she quit this place the better. She’d never felt so unlike herself as she did standing there, waiting on this man’s indulgence.

“Come forward, mistress,” Lord Grim said, with an impatient wave.

His voice was a smooth, deep rumble that seduced the hairs on her arms and neck to lift, as easily as he must seduce the servant girls to raise their skirts.

She approached him, pride keeping her steps purposeful and her back straight as a post. Thank goodness the state of her stomach wasn’t as visible. The closer she drew to his dark, intense stare, the deeper the shivers that crept down her spine. She tightened her thighs to stem the moisture gathering between her legs.

She curled her hands tighter to prevent reaching up to smooth back her wild hair. So he’d see what a mess it always was—it was but one flaw among many. The preeminent one being her station in this small keep. She was already deemed a hag due to her talent with herbs and the gift that flowed from her hands.

His gaze rose to her face, unwavering, discomposing. Her steps faltered as she drew to a halt, but luckily her long skirts hid the misstep. At the last moment, she curtsied, bowing her head in deference.

“You’ve come with a petition?”

“I have, milord,” she said, cursing the breathless quality of her voice, but she really couldn’t help it. He must be accustomed to women swooning so her slight betrayal of composure should be unnoticeable.

Except the corners of his perfect mouth crimped upward. “Would you like to take a seat?”

Her eyes widened. Sit in his presence? At his table? Even the steward looked askance at his overlord. Did he think her clumsy due to infirmity? She drew a deep breath pulling her affront around her like a cloak. Damnation, but he wasn’t going to make a fool of her. “Thank you, no, sire. I prefer to stand.”

“Your petition,” he reminded her.

Caught for a moment staring into his black eyes, she blurted, “Yes. Um, I’ve come on a grave matter, milord.” Then she frantically searched her mind for her purpose. Good lord, he’d addled her brain.

He sighed. “Take your time.”

“Wolves,” she sputtered, blushing. “A wolf damaged my sheep pen and frightened them into injuring themselves in their enclosure. One is dead. No doubt the sheriff has already told you about the attack.”

The sheriff and his lordship shared a glance then turned back to her, no hint of their thoughts in their shuttered expressions.

“You said wolves?” Lord Grim asked, his voice so calm it piqued her interest.

“I saw only one wolf, sire.” Never would she admit she’d misspoken due to her unease.

His head canted as though the answer to her question held his entire focus. “And you’re certain there’s only one?”

“I saw only one. I don’t know whether there are others.”

“A lone rogue,” the sheriff murmured.

Lord Grim shrugged, giving away nothing of his thoughts. “Perhaps.”

Gisele grew impatient with the questioning. They didn’t appear ready to act quickly. “I demand you do something about it,” she said, more forcefully than she’d intended. “And I would like recompense for my loss.”

“Demand?”

Her chin rose, and despite the fact she knew she must seem anything but deferent to his rank, she stared him straight in the eye. “As you serve your overlord and expect his protection and support in return, so do I serve you and expect the same. Your man,” she said, nodding toward the sheriff, “was keeping watch last night when the sheep was killed.”

“Yes, Tibor was keeping watch, wasn’t he?” the lord said, giving the sheriff a narrowed glance while his fingers drummed the table.

“She refuses to move inside the bailey until we’ve taken care of the problem, milord,” the steward said, sniffing. “I say, she takes her own chances.”

“I’d like to get back to the matter of service,” came the sheriff’s sly murmur.

With the loss of his wife,  SEAL leader Daniel Monroe finds himself grounded with four girls to command. It is a job that proves too big even for this stalwart Commander. When he calls in the reserves, his mama and the wife of his best friend, they come up with a different kind of solution  – find him a new wife and mother for the girls on-line.

Jill Smith has dedicated her life to caring for others and raising her family. She lived in exile for a quarter of a century, the very American wife of a Royal Marine. Now with her husband dead and her sons grown, she is homesick with a hole the size of Texas in her heart. She is a mother with no one to look after. What’s a girl to do when she sees a handsome officer and four beautiful daughters with no one to care for and love them?

The surprisingly old-fashioned, yet modern, solution to their problems is an arranged marriage. Can ‘the arrangement’ built on shared values, goals and needs withstand the burning heat and wild kink that they create between the sheets…in the shower…on the kitchen counter tops?

To make matters worse, as Jill delves deeper into the supposed suicide of Daniel’s wife, near-miss accidents begin to plague the family. Is it just coincidence or someone trying to keep the truth hidden?

Please note that it is Over the Top HOT. WARNING: This book contains strong language as well as multiple and graphic love scenes including: sexual intercourse, oral and anal play, dirty talk and BDSM within a loving, monogamous marriage.

The story was inspired my own almost decade long exile as an American girl living in London. It offers a tiny taste of the cultural differences such as pancakes so thin you can practically see through them and words like jumper and loo.

But the flame that really ignited it was an old Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball movie called Yours, Mine and Ours (original 1968 version). It was the story of Navy Officer Frank Beardsley, a widower with ten children. He falls in love with and marries a nurse Helen North with eight blessings all her own. Of course, these days unless you are a reality TV star, no one has that many children. My Navy Commander Daniel Monroe has four beautiful little girls…to match her four adult sons.

In the original movie, Frank’s friend plays matchmaker, but I put a modern twist on the story with an internet website dedicated to the military…and Daniel’s mother and his best friend’s wife doing the looking and picking without his knowledge.

By 1960’s standard, Ford and Ball had a sexual chemistry and frank talking manner that pushed the envelop. I have carried that forward into the 21st century with a re-discovery and exploration of sexual appetites and fetishes that are not for the faint of heart. While the sex scenes are graphic in nature and the language strong, they move the story forward with a focus upon real life issues that many of us face: body image issues and feelings of sexual inadequacy. All the kink in this story is kept within the loving bounds of matrimony; after all can anything done in love truly be wrong?

Tara Neale
Writer, Madonna and More…
Website: www.taraneale.com
Twitter: @tara_neale
Blog: https://taranealeauthor.wordpress.com/

Thank you, Delilah, for allowing me the chance to ramble on your blog today.

I suppose it’s silly to start out saying writers are creative. The statement certainly shouldn’t make anyone take a surprised step backwards and blink in astonishment. If writers weren’t creative, there’d be no stories to tell, no new lands and characters to discover, no tales of hope, adventure or romance. So, yeah. Writers are creative. I mean, just look at those beautiful pieces Delilah posted a few days ago!

While crafting stories is our main creative outlet, most authors express their inventiveness and ingenuity in other ways as well. And we find those other outlets a necessary part of the entire process. I have a good friend who makes beautiful quilts–each bit of fabric stitched to the next, then quilted. All by hand. Problems in her worlds are solved while actively doing something else. It’s that same concept as getting great ideas while you’re in the shower.

My local writers’ group is filled with crafters. Sometimes there’s nothing better than to put critiques aside for an evening to make charms for our wine glasses. One set for each house where we meet. Yep, authors also like wine. And chocolate. But that’s another blog.

I’ve been a crafter for as long as I remember. I crochet. I’ve made quilts, soft sculpture and porcelain dolls (patterned after some of my characters of course), jewelry…hey, anyone remember when decoupaging layers of napkins to the back of clear plates was in? What I’m saying, I guess, is that I’ve participated in a ton of creative ventures. There are more in my future. Because I need to stretch my creative muscles with a variety of exercises. Wouldn’t want to become overly developed in just one muscle group!

My latest creative adventure is closely related to writing…well, to books at least. I’ve learned how to create journals and coloring books. (Coloring. Wow, coloring is HUGE right now.) Today, I’m showing off my very first journal.

Moon Struck

The Journal 

The Moon…symbol of wonder, transition and enlightenment.

The moon has long been a source of wonder, even after men left their footprints on the dusty surface. The ever-changing cycles signal transition, speak to us of mysteries and offer illumination of both the world around us and our inner selves.

The Moon Struck Journal is filled with:

• Moon quotations to prompt and inspire
• Lined pages for personal reflection and discovery
• Blank pages for sketching and doodling
• Space to record favorite saying or poems
• Anything you wish…

The Cosmos Journals #1

See that? The Cosmos Journals #1? There will be more in this series of journals. The second, Star Gazing The Journal is almost ready for publication.

Why is making books to inspire others a way for me to refill my creative well? I design the cover. I can play around with different layouts for the inside. I think about how I would use the journal. I’ve learned new software and even with the frustrations, when I figure out (and remember) what to do, it’s a rush. As is imagining how someone might enjoy the quotes and find the writing and (yep, here we go) blank pages for drawing or doodling or whatever beneficial.

How might you use Moon Struck The Journal? Does journaling or drawing and coloring spark your creative side? Interested in this journal? It’s available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble and Books a Million.

About me? This is the official bit…*lizzie always made up games and stories to keep her company. So, a cunning witch lived in Grampa’s weather research station and was only held at bay by waving a certain weed. An ancient road grader morphed into a boat carrying wild adventurers to islands filled with fierce lions and dangerous cannibals, which really looked a lot like sheep. Now, filled with fantasy, love, and romance with a sparkling twist, the stories of her imagination swirl their way into the mundane world. When *lizzie must return to a more routine life, she’s *the Lunch Lady* at a private school. Author and lunch lady~~what a combination!

Find out more about me and those tales of sparkling romance at www.lizziestarr.com You’ll find links to a couple of free reads there, too.

Sign up for my reader’s group Newsletter
https://starrwords.blogspot.com
www.twitter.com/lizziestarr
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Thanks for having me here today, Delilah! And the answer, of course, is YES! Yes, you do! And we’ll get to that in a second!

Man, I don’t know about you all but suddenly it’s September. I love  this time of year—admittedly college football fan (Go ISU Cyclones!) the snap of cold in the air, the changing leaves, bonfires, and sitting on the deck watching a spectacular sunset here in the Heartland.

To borrow from John Mellancamp, while I wasn’t born in a small town, I was raised in one. And that’s what I tapped into to write RUGGED HEARTS, the first book in the Kinnison Legacy series. Here we have farmers—both crop and dairy—and cattle ranchers (money on the hoof my father-in-law used to say). People nod and wave as they pass by, doesn’t matter if they know you or not. We still have Homecoming parades, kids trick or treat in the neighborhoods and play outside after dark. We used to tell our kids to behave when they were out with friends, because chances are we’d hear about it before they got back home, if they’d not behaved. The Kinnison series revolves around the fictional small town of End of the Line, Montana ( which explains a lot) and features  the trials, loves and tribulations of three would-be brothers—Wyatt, Dalton and Rein—raised together by a wealthy cattleman after tragedy strikes their young lives. They are stories that embrace community, family, the past, the future—and with plenty of steamy romance woven in. One of my most cherished reviews came from a reader who described it as “family is everything” whether by blood or experience.

Book I, RUGGED HEARTS, I’m proud to say is part of a newly released boxed set with some amazing writers. This unique collection is a FIRST-IN-A-SERIES books. All are full-length novels and include the following best-selling authors; Lexi Post (Cowboys Never Fold), Jory Strong (Spirit Flight), Desiree Holt (Tempted), Ciana Stone (Staking a Claim), and Rugged Hearts (Amanda McIntyre.) I couldn’t be more pleased or proud to share this special edition collection with these great authors. And we’ve made it affordable to many by keeping (thus far) our preorder price of just .99 for the entire set! That’s a steal no matter how you look at it! But we want to share our stories with you readers. In a day when the dollar has to stretch in so many ways, here is a little slice of reading enjoyment you can afford!

“…this set has something to appeal to everyone. Lexi Post, Jory Strong, Ciana Stone, Desiree Holt, and Amanda McIntyre have combined their talents to create an amazing set. 5 stars!” ~Amazon reviewer, Pam

“I highly recommend this collection.” ~Amazon reviewer, Christine

As the days grow shorter and the temperature turns cooler, I recommend snagging this Special Edition collection HOT WESTERN NIGHTS! Guaranteed to warm your heart and heat up your…let’s just say–nights! 😉

HOT WESTERN NIGHTS/ Special Edition First-in-a-series collection!

Available exclusively at Amazon: https://tiny.cc/7tux2x

As always, if you read one of our books, let us know what you think by posting a professional review!

About the Author

Amanda McIntyre’s passion is telling character-driven stories with a penchant for placing ordinary people placed in extraordinary situations. A bestselling author, her work is published internationally in Print, Digital, and Audio. She writes sizzling contemporary and erotic historical romance and believes no matter what, love will find a way. Learn more at: www.amandamcintyresbooks.com and Amanda’s Amazon Author Page. https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002C1KH2Q

As always~Blessings & Cowboy Dreams!

Amanda McIntyre

She’s not quite the Kardashians—gender transitions, marriages to wealthy rappers and online sex tapes are out of the question for Suz deMello, who lives quietly in northern California caring for her elderly mother. But her career in writing is anything but quiet. 2014 was a banner year for Suz—she published no fewer than ten works, a couple of them unexpectedly. She knew that Ellora’s Cave, her former publisher, had bought several of her works and planned to publish them, but she also found herself starting an anthology group and writing for another.

2015 has been a little calmer. The Naughty Literati have published three anthologies this year and plan two more. For them, Suz wrote three original short stories in different genres—a ménage historical, FemDomme, and New Adult. Book Boyfriends Cafe put out Summer Lovin’, which is still doing really well. Suz’s contribution to that was a novel, Fashion Victim, sexy romantic suspense.

She looks forward to a much quieter autumn, with only three publications in the hopper and one or two more planned. As four out of the five are anthologies, she’s enjoying the reduced stress of working with groups of like-minded authors. And she likes that she’s found herself stretching as an author by writing in different subgenres that are new to her.

Here’s what’s coming up:

September will see the publication of two boxed sets with stories by Suz. On September 22d, Falling in Love will appear on Amazon. Suz’s book in it is Walk Like A Man. Here’s what it’s about:

Macho quarterback Jim Wellman meets his match in bright and sassy physical therapist Marti Solis, who goads him out of his wheelchair, pushing him to walk again. Unlike every other woman Jim has wanted, she refuses to jump into the sack with the celebrity athlete. Though attracted to his bedroom smile and rugged good looks, she’s intimidated by his fame and turned off by his arrogance.

Can Jim become the lover Marti needs? Can he learn to walk like a man?

Set in California’s beautiful Napa Valley, this multicultural romance delivers humor and pathos, sparkling dialogue, layered characters, a heroine to root for and a hero who’s pure fantasy.

Preorder it here: https://tinyurl.com/qdpozkj

On September 25, the Naughty Literati will publish its fourth short story anthology, Naughty Reunions. Suz’s story is Ocean Dreams, about a marine biologist Sandi, who’s never forgotten Blue, the baby dolphin with whom she bonded. Reunited with him years later, she discovers he’s a shapeshifter in the sexiest possible way.

And lastly—Suz’s writing manual, About Writing, will be published in digital for on October first, just in time for NaNoWriMo participants to read it and absorb its lessons. It’s already available in print and large print editions—here’s the 4-1-1:

Perfect for the advanced or aspiring author, ABOUT WRITING includes both Write This, Not That! Suz deMello’s bestseller, and the newer Plotting and Planning, a primer on the basics: conflict and character, point of view, scene and sequel…plus much, much more, written in deMello’s engaging style.

ABOUT WRITING:  your essential writing manual!

Find it at https://tinyurl.com/deMelloAboutWriting   

And what does Suz say about her heavy schedule?

“All this work makes me want to take a nap.”

Hi everyone! Thanks so much to Delilah for hosting me here on her blog. Delilah and I first “met” (don’t you love the internet, where you can know so many people that you wouldn’t recognize if they bit you?) when I submitted to her Smokin’ Hot Firemen anthology, and since then, have appeared alongside her in Duty & Desire. She was a blast to work with for Firemen, and her work’s both amazing and fun. So, thanks to Delilah again, and it’s lovely to be able to chat with her readers and fans. Thanks for having me.

One of my favorite writers is quoted as saying, “When a man writes a romance, the woman dies. When a woman writes one, it ends all tidy and sweet.”

The Rainbow Connection, a series of novels I have been writing for the last four years, is a romance. Admittedly, it is a gay romance, and until very recently, the likelihood of it ending in legal wedding was up for debate. But it was always meant to end happily.

The truth is, I was inspired to write what started as a short story and grew into a series of novels (three have been, or will be soon, published. One that’s being written, and one — maybe two? — that are in preliminary planning…) from an event that took place shortly before another wedding, many years ago. I had a tumultuous affair planned, for characters who took on a life of their own, ripped my control right out of my hands, and took me on a ride that I’ll never forget.

So, when I offer forth this little short story, I say to you, this is not a true spoiler. You always knew we were going this way. The road has been long, it has been winding, and it has had a great many bumps in it. But you knew the destination when you got in the car with me…

These books were always meant to be a romance, and a romance often needs a good wedding…

From Torquere
https://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=97&products_id=4486

Catch up with Roll and Blues
https://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=97&products_id=4139
https://www.amazon.com/Roll-Lynn-Townsend-ebook/dp/B00IO4JNA2/
https://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=196&products_id=4347
https://www.amazon.com/Blues-Rainbow-Connection-Lynn-Townsend-ebook/dp/B00S31I3NE/

About the Author

Lynn Townsend is a geek, a dreamer and an inveterate punster. When not reading, writing, or editing, she can usually be found drinking coffee or killing video game villains. Lynn’s interests include geek comedy music, romance novels, octopuses, and movies with more FX than plot.

Social Media Links

Twitter: @tisfan
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LynnTownsendwriter
Website: https://paidbytheweird.blogspot.com/
Blog: https://paidbytheweird.blogspot.com/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kthicks3/rainbow-connection-novels-storyboard-inspirations/
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/tisfan
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LynnTownsend
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5262501.Lynn_Townsend
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lynn-Townsend/e/B005OQA0AA/

Free Read: Wedding March

Part One, Wedding March is hosted at VL Locey’s blog, Thoughts from a Yodeling Goatherder.
link: https://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/2015/08/monday-authorbook-spotlight-lynn.html

Part Two, Wedding March is hosted on EM Linley’s blog
link https://www.emlynley.com/blog/

Wedding March, Part Three
by Lynn Townsend

A short story, in parts…

“Vin, no,” Beau said. This was becoming almost annoying, and Beau suspected that once it had finished being annoying, it might come around to being funny. But it wasn’t funny just yet.

“Beau, yes, you absolutely have to. It’s a moral imperative.”

Beau looked back down at the glossy page, full of lovely young women all wearing horrible, pink, flouncy lacy dresses. Truth, they probably fell right out of a bad remake of Gone with the Wind. The Bollywood version.

“No. I really, really don’t. And even if I did have to, she would never in a million years agree to something like that.”

“You could convince her, Beau,” Vin said in his best wheedling tones. “She’d do it, if you asked her to.”

“Ann-Marie is my very best friend in the whole world,” Beau said, firmly. He knew Vin was right. If Beau asked, Ann-Marie would say yes. She’d also punch him about forty times in the arm and complain the entire time that he was making her hit him, but she would wear the ugliest dress known to man. If he wanted her to. The point, however, was that she was his very best friend precisely because he would never, ever do such a thing. “She can wear a nice pant-suit that matches with the cumberbunds. And if Mila wants to wear a dress, we can have one of those, made, too. There is absolutely no reason to make everyone unhappy.”

Vin grumbled for a moment, then conceded the point. “Well, can I at least threaten her with the picture?”

“Only if you want to die before the wedding,” Beau cautioned him. “You know how she feels about those sorts of things. And she would not entirely suspect you were joking.”

“That’s because I wouldn’t be,” Vin said. He turned the page, then stretched his legs out under the table, groaning. Vin’s knee injury still pained him, especially if he sat in the same position for too long.

“Let’s take a break, gentlemen,” the wedding planner said. “Walk down and get a cup of coffee?” There was a very nice coffee shop on the ground floor of the business center; they’d walked by it on their way up to the office.

“You said the magic word,” Beau said, as Vin nearly knocked over his chair in his enthusiasm. Beau’d never really gotten into coffee, himself. And the tea they served in Chicago was so unlike home’s “sweet tea” that they might only be loosely related beverages. But he thought he’d seen a deli on the first floor as well, and there was no reason why he couldn’t snag a Pepsi.

“So, Mila and Ann-Marie,” Vin said. “Who else are we actually asking to be in the wedding?”

“I ain’t asking Lee,” Beau said. He scuffed his toe on the carpet. His brother had finally apologized, and Beau had accepted. Family peace had been declared, sort of. But it would never be the same, and while having one’s brothers stand up at the wedding, Beau thought he’d just go ahead and dispense with that tradition. Aside from that, Gerald was still on speaking terms with Lee. Ginny and Lee actually attending the wedding might make things strained for his brother without adding an actual role in the proceedings.

“No? I thought I might ask my dad, though. Since it seems silly to have him give away the groom and all, maybe he’d like to be part of the ceremony.”

“Yeah, Jonah would get a kick out of that,” Beau said. “That’s a good idea.”

Vin suggested LeShelle Ross, one of the artists he worked with and had formed a strange bestgirlfriends sort of relationship with. She frequently called Vin her obligatory gay friend, with annoyed Beau, but didn’t seem to bother Vin in the slightest. To match numbers, Beau paired her up with Kate, his cousin.

“And I’d like to ask Lloyd,” Vin said, as they stepped into the line at the coffee bar. It might take a while to get drinks, based on the length of the queue. Beau chewed his lip for a moment, debating whether or not to continue this conversation at a later time. He hated when people stared at Vin and him as a couple. Hated it. He’d hold hands with his boyfriend and imagine every little snigger was directed at them. Even when he knew it wasn’t. Even when he knew he was being oversensitive and stupid. But sometimes, he’d see someone stare and see the loathing and disgust on their face and he’d be right back in the parking lot that cold, brutal night, and he’d see Chris’s leg coming for his ribs and not a damn thing he could do about it.

Sometimes, it was easier to just pretend he was straight.

I shouldn’t have to, he thought, sudden and angry. He twined his fingers with Vin’s and gave his fiancee his best grin. “That sounds great. Do you think David would stand up with me, if I asked him?”

David was Vin’s bodyguard and driver. He’d been working for the Reyeses as a man-Friday since Vin crashed two cars inside of two months. Vin and David weren’t friends; Vin thought of his driver as an employee — and sometimes a nuisance. David thought of Vin as his boss — and usually an idiot. But both of them would have taken a bullet for Beau without hesitation, and that bond kept them working together long after Vin outgrew the need for a babysitter.

Vin looked over from studying the chalkboard full of elaborate coffee-flavored drinks. “I can’t imagine that he’d say no. And he does look smart in a tux.”

***

This story will continue tomorrow on Delilah Night’s blog [https://delilahnight.com/] and the story in its entirety will be hosted on my blog in two weeks. https://paidbytheweird.blogspot.com/