Almost everyone has heard stories of employees gathering around the water cooler or coffee machine to gossip and/or socialize. But not all places of employment have such gathering spots—especially since the pandemic when social gathering was prohibited. Although social distancing and other pandemic precautions have been lifted for most businesses, it still remains in others. I begin this post with a business that has neither a water cooler nor a coffee machine and that still enforces pandemic precautions. I mentioned this because it seems to be relevant to today’s topic.

As August began, parents geared up for back-to-school and the anguish of locating (and paying for) all the items on the dreaded school supply list. It also included the pride of posting first-day photos on social media. Since the people who inspired me to write this post work adhering to previously mentioned guidelines, they rely heavily on social media interactions with each other. In other words, not only are they coworkers, they are on each other’s social media contacts and friends lists. To put it into perspective, since no one is gathering, employees spend their spare minutes or downtime scrolling each other’s social media.

Now one may question why this is a big deal or how it is any different than what anyone else is doing. Well, it comes down to the quantity. Pre-pandemic, a person may show one or two, or even half a dozen photos of a vacation or a newborn on his/her cell phone. But social media allows access to hundreds of photos. Not only that but when gathered to look at photos on a phone, there usually is a time limit. For example, a break may only be five or ten minutes. How many photos can be shared in that time? Furthermore, it’s at work. Thus, the person sharing is present. However, social media transcends work and can be viewed anywhere. Additionally, when gathered in an employee lounge, usually only one or two people have time to share. Yet, on social media, employees have access to everyone they are friends with. This becomes an abundance of material.

In May, a supervisor’s youngest child graduated from high school. For the first time in twenty-four years, she found herself not doing either of these things and felt left out of the “parent club.” (Psst… One never stops being a parent no matter how old the child.) However, she was scrolling through the photos and had nothing to share. You may be wondering, “What about the first day of college?” Well, for her, it was sort of a non-thing for two reasons. First, her son decided not to go away to college. That meant no room to decorate, moving in stories, or real shopping to do. The local joke about this community college is that it is grade thirteen. So many local students go there that literally it is like being in the same high school. Everyone already knows everyone. The campus is small and familiar. Every local school has at least one event at the college per year. And there’s not much to the landscape. Since the campus is condensed, there’s not much greenery—just six or seven buildings for classrooms all stacked atop each other and a few more on the backside that serves as dormitories for out-of-town students.

Second, her son did what a lot of local students do their senior year. I don’t know if it is common across the country or just in this area, but by the time most local students become seniors, they only lack one or two credits from graduating. That means, some of these students only go to class for an hour a day. For others, they take “dual credit” courses in which they receive both high school and college credit. He had done just that. But there’s more. He wasn’t interested in pursuing a college degree but felt pressured by his family to do so. In an effort to dissuade (or persuade depending on how one views it) the family that college wasn’t the right path, he enrolled in summer courses. So, come August, he already had his first semester under his belt. Thus, it genuinely wasn’t a “first” day, although, one could technically argue it was the first day of a new semester. However, the problem with that is that he’d enrolled in online courses. I guess she could have taken a photo of him in his room.

The point of all this was that this saddened her. Additionally, she hadn’t taken a summer vacation and didn’t have anything exciting happening in her life. As she began to reflect on the past months, she felt that she had missed out on summer entirely. And when she decided to try to make late summer plans, she discovered it was harder than she thought. Most places had already stored away summer inventory (e.g., bathing suits, sandals, pool toys, etc.) and stocked the shelves with fall. Summer rentals were booked, and soaring temperatures closed some events prematurely (e.g., the zoo). With each passing hour, she grew more depressed, and it persisted each day. Barely a week into the month, she was sobbing almost consistently at her desk. I knew it had to be more than about not having photos to post on social media. That was just the catalyst that brought the deep-rooted problem to the surface. She was mourning loss—an empty nest that wasn’t really empty.

Yes, her child still lived in her home but not as a child. He was now an adult, independent, and capable of residing on his own. Aside from being in college, he’d gotten a job (although it didn’t pay enough to support himself) and spent much of his time away from home. All of her children had been active in sports and activities while in school, and now that was gone. Even in church, her children had been the reason for much of her involvement. And like so many other businesses, the pandemic had affected her church in that many of the events they used to host were indefinitely canceled due to resource shortages. For example, they were unable to obtain the necessary materials to repair their recreational center; therefore, no activities could be held there. She now had spare time and no idea how to fill it.

Her husband’s job (as well as being a part of the Army National Guard Reserves) required him to travel, and sometimes, he was away for months on end. His current full-time job didn’t pay as much as his previous job (he’d quit due to disagreements with his employer), and he worked longer hours to make up for some of the difference. It also should be noted that she married her husband shortly after graduating high school and began having babies two years into the marriage. In short, she has never been on her own. There have always been parents or siblings, or children or her husband filling her space. But now, she was beginning to feel the vacancy.

Her story is not much different from many others and is a sharp reminder to not lose self or one’s identity in life. It is important to carve out a piece of life that is devoted to oneself and that is apart from everything else. Aside from occasionally reading, this supervisor has no hobbies or interests that do not involve her husband or children. She admitted that she was not used to spending prolonged periods alone and felt antsy.

I pondered her dilemma for a good while before posing the question to other friends. How can situations like this be avoided?

1. The first step (and perhaps the most important) is to acknowledge where the sadness stems from. On the surface, it seemed like the supervisor was merely upset to not have content for social media. However, the problem was rooted much deeper. She was grieving the changes in her life and a loss of feeling purpose.
2. Recognize that you are not alone. If your sadness is great, consider joining a support group or seeking assistance from a mental health professional. This is 2023, and there’s no disgrace in asking and/or seeking help. Besides, mental health professionals are bound to uphold confidentiality. Thus, no one has to know. Plus, there are many options for therapy, including online counseling. There are also flexible pay scales to fit almost any budget, including some free services and services covered by insurance. Some jobs offer counseling services to employees as a free, confidential services that does not require filing on insurance. Mental well-being is important, and it’s better to begin when issues are small as it’s far better to tend to a scrape before it becomes infected.
3. As mentioned previously, develop hobbies and interest just for you that doesn’t revolve around or depend on family.
4. Make friends that do not require you to be coupled off. For example, the supervisor spoke of having many friends. However, the only interaction she had with those friends was with her husband or family. Her only one-on-one interactions with these friends were brief—usually while awaiting their children finishing practice of some sort.
5. Take a class. One never is too old or too knowledgeable to learn something new. If going to class isn’t your thing or makes you feel uncomfortable, enroll in an online course.
6. Go for walks and take in nature. It doesn’t have to be long or some treacherous hike—just something to get you out of the house and moving about. Studies have shown that motion increases endorphins which may lessen feelings of sadness.
7. Get involved with the local theatre. It’s a good way to make new friends and increase social interactions. And speaking of…
8. Reduce time on social media. While it’s fun and interesting to peep what family and friends are doing, it also can be destructive. The saying “all that glitters isn’t gold” is true. Social media sometimes make ordinary events look more glamorous than they really are. Sure, the designer shoes on your coworker looked amazing, but the photo didn’t indicate how they pinched her toes and or caused blisters. And that fabulous vacation photo wasn’t tagged with how it had maxed out the credit card. Additionally, some photos are 100 and/or photoshopped. Using social media as a reference to other people’s reality is a bad idea.
9. Revisit the past and reconnect with old friends whom you may have lost touch with. Chances are, they may be experiencing the same feelings as you and would like someone to go out to lunch or have a drink with you.
10. Create a bucket list of things that you want to do and that make you happy. But don’t just create the list. Do it.

Read the rest of this entry »

Welp. This card isn’t helping me decide how my week will go, or am I wrong?

First, just looking at the card, what does it represent? This is the goddess Aphrodite. Her origin story is kind of grisly. Cronus castrated his father Uranus and tossed his testicles into the sea. The foam that erupted produced Aphrodite. You can see her stepping out of the foam. The goddess of Love is the embodiment of feminine beauty, but also the embodiment of all those stereotypical “female flaws” like jealousy, laziness, vanity, and deceit. Lovely, right? What does that have to do with me? Aphrodite is holding one golden chalice—the Ace of Cups. The Ace of anything represents the powerful “first” raw meaning of a suit. So, before I check the book, I think this means I may be looking at an emotional week. One filled with love, or the “eruption” of love, and one filled with events that will have me demonstrating all those feminine flaws. I have the kids heading to school this week, so I’ll lovingly push them out the door with their backpacks prepared and their lunch bags filled. I’ll feel regret that I don’t have them under my roof. I have a ton of work in front of me, and I may wallow a bit in my feelings while I try to tackle the stacked-to-the-ceiling tasks I have in front of me. So, I think that’s what this card means for me. I don’t like it, but I will embrace the positive meaning and hope I can tamp down my “weak” feminine faults to slog through the work.

Now, to the book. It boils it down, saying, it “heralds an outpouring of feeling” although “not yet differentiated” and can often be “overwhelming.” *sigh*

Why do I start my Sunday mornings with a tarot card? I guess I could just dive into my calendar, calibrate how many pages I have to write and how many I have to edit to get to The End, but I like adding an element of the divine to my day, whether drawing a card or placing my hand into my bowl of crystals and gemstones and pulling out whatever my hand finds compelling. The mystical and the pragmatic can reside in the same heart.

Open Contests

1. Saturday Puzzle-Contest: Flea Market Finds — This one ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
2. Ava Cuvay: The End of an Era (Contest & Excerpt) — Win a FREE book!
3. Gabbi Grey: Falling Down the Regency Rabbit Hole (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
4. Flashback: Strokes, Vol. 2 (Contest–Two Winners!) — Win a FREE book!
5. Saturday Puzzle-Contest: What’s he doing here? — Win an Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winner is…Deb Brown!
*~*~*

It’s Saturday! The Saturday before school starts! The kids are ready! They’ve met their teachers, have all their clothes and supplies. Now, the nerves have set in. They’re planning their first day’s outfits, putting in their orders for their lunchboxes, etc. Our little town is having a “Back to School Blowout” tonight in the town center, complete with bouncy houses, facepaint artists, etc. Hopefully, there will be food trucks, too, for the parents as they herd their kids through the stations.

We’re ready (and NOT) for them to go back to school. Schedules will compress. Timing will be everything. (I’ll get back my quiet “alone time” to write and edit! Woot!) My daughter and I do hate the passage of time. We want to keep them little, but they’re eager to spread their wings. Same ole, same ole, I’m sure for most parents and grandparents.

Today, I had the 19-year-old clean my spaces. It’s such a big help. I can settle in my chair in my clean office and get some s**t done today. I hope. Until the next emergency—hopefully, not a power outage today. I noticed this morning, when I popped into town, that there were new power poles laid out all along the road to replace those splintered old things that keep falling every time the wind blows. I wonder if they’ll give us warning when they have to cut the power to install the expanse. Ha!

Anways, you have a challenge today. Solve the puzzle then tell me what this creature is doing. Or tell me what you would do if you were face-to-face with it! Comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card. Enjoy the puzzle and have a great rest of the weekend!

UPDATE: The winners are…Sara D and Theresa Oconnell!
*~*~*

Are you a fan of short stories? Have you ever read one? I love reading and writing them. Good thing, because one of my jobs is “editor” for sexy anthologies, which I used to edit for Cleis Press but now do so independently.

I love writing a short story for many reasons.

• It’s a very short, satisfying journey to THE END.
• I can experiment with genre and see whether I’m any good at writing something different.
• Writing shorts cleans my writer’s palate much like eating bread at a wine tasting.
• It’s just plain fun.

I write short stories for the collections I edit, but I also love to write them for other people’s collections. I get rejected the same as anyone else, so it’s still a rush to make the cut when a story is accepted. And because I normally retain all rights for the stories, I like to bundle them up occasionally into my own little self-pubbed volumes of Strokes (filled with super-sexy short stories!). I’ve published four: Strokes, Vol. 1; Strokes, Vol. 2; Strokes, Vol. 3; and Ultra Strokes. Today, I’m giving away a copy of one of those volumes to two lucky commenters. 

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered
to win a free download of a Strokes anthology!

Strokes, Volume 2

 

From New York Times bestselling author, Delilah Devlin, comes another naughty collection of seven bedtime stories—a week’s worth of nighttime reading pleasure.

Ride along with two soldiers, just returned from war, who find sweet release in “The Long Ride Home.” In “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn,” a woman has one last fling with two sexy construction workers. A cowboy kidnaps his “Runaway Bride” to get some sweet satisfaction. A woman travelling alone in Europe enjoys a hot steamy sauna in the “Textile Free” zone. In “Love in Bloom,” a florist tempts her high school crush. A naughty nooner with an office colleague ends in a “Quick Draw.” A dispatcher kicks inhibitions to the door when she seduces a younger truck driver in “Drive Me Crazy.”

Four of the stories have appeared in separate Cleis Press anthologies. Two of the stories were featured in Penthouse magazine! All the stories are featured in one sinfully hot collection…

Excerpt from “The Long Ride Home” which was featured in Duty and Desire, published by Cleis Press, and which Penthouse magazine also published…

White-hot sun beat down on the tops of our helmets. Sweat pooled between our shoulder blades and dampened the necks of our t-shirts. However, it was a hot, humid East Texas heat—so unlike what we’d endured for the past eleven months that none standing in formation really minded. We were home.

I watched it trickle down the side of one particular soldier’s neck as he stood in the row in front of me. Not for the first time, I thought I’d like the chance to lick it away.

Not that Staff Sergeant Mason Haddox had a clue how I felt. We’d been part of the same platoon—played volleyball and shot hoops, drove trucks over long, barely paved expanses of desert and mountains, and cleaned our weapons, side by side—but he hadn’t seen me as anything but another private who needed looking after.

And yet, his tall, muscled frame, black close-cropped hair and wintry blue eyes had made quite an impression. I’d lusted after him since the first time he’d shown up drill weekend, a month before we’d deployed. His steadfast calm during the most nightmarish day of my life had only cemented his attraction.

My nose started to itch, and I wrinkled it, hoping formation would break soon so I could scratch it. My feet were roasting in the boots sticking to the black pavement.

True to his word, our commander kept his speech short. A good thing, since SSG Haddox fidgeted, hands tightening and easing, swaying slightly on his feet as though waiting to spring into action. I knew he scanned the crowd seated in the bleachers from the corners of his eyes, hoping she’d show, that she’d changed her mind. I’d looked too and knew she wasn’t there—and wouldn’t be coming. I felt bad for him, but was also secretly hopeful he’d be ready to let go, that he wouldn’t do something stupid now we were back.

Just a month before we began preparations for our unit’s return from Afghanistan, Haddox had gotten the Dear John letter from his girlfriend, informing him she’d moved his belongings from their apartment into a storage unit. She’d included two keys taped to the page—one for the storage unit and one to his Mustang. She’d written she was sorry, but had he really expected her to wait all those months?

Had I been in her shoes, I would have. But then, I knew the feeling of being so far from home that Skype and email couldn’t fill the loneliness. I’d survived it once. However, my husband’s second tour had severed our connection—that and the emails I’d discovered when I’d hacked his Gmail account. Ones he’d sent to a female corporal stationed in another province who was planning a little R&R rendezvous. As quick as that, my love for him dried up like a closed tap. I’d forwarded the email to my account, then sent it to him along with a request for a divorce.

So I knew what Haddox felt. The searing betrayal. The anger. Maybe she’d been a decent person, but personally, I consigned her to hell. The worst thing the person at home could do to a deployed soldier was abandon him when he was too far away to do a damn thing about it.

I hoped he didn’t plan to go find her now.

“Company, attention!”

I snapped into position.

“Dismissed.”

Cheers from our unit and from the family and friends who filled the armory motor pool rang in the late afternoon air.

Head down, Haddox stomped away, not bothering to share a word with anyone.

My sister waved and made her way through the throng spilling from the bleachers, a wide smile splitting her face. I gave her an answering smile, but couldn’t help darting a glance to watch that broad set of shoulders move toward the open motor pool gates—the only space large enough to hold the formation and the guests who’d come to welcome the Reserve unit home.

The buses that had delivered us from the airport were pulling away. Most of the soldiers and their friends and family were heading inside the armory for the welcome home celebration, but Haddox strode toward the parking lot.

I gave my sister a quick hug. “Go say hi to Shelby—he’s got it bad for you.”

She laughed and blushed. “Where are you goin’?” Then her gaze followed mine. “Seriously? I thought you said he was an asshole.”

“He grows on you. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She gave me a smile and hitched her purse over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. But you better call.”

“Tell Shelby to grab my gear!” Out the gates I sped.

Haddox was already dropping his duffel bag into the trunk of a car—an older model black Mustang.

I halted beside him, trying to figure out what I could say to keep him from driving away.

“You forget something, PFC Hollister?” he asked, glancing to the side as he slammed down the trunk lid.

“Megan,” I said, suddenly breathless. “Thought you might like some company.”

His gaze narrowed. “Did you, now? I’m gonna blow the carbon out of the exhaust. The ride’s gonna be bumpy.”

“I don’t want to get in the way—if you have plans.”

“No plans.” He snorted. “Don’t even have a place to sleep. Didn’t your sister come to pick you up?”

“Yeah, but she’s all right with me leavin’.”

This time, his mouth twisted into something between a smile and a snarl. “Shelby?”

“Yeah. You know they’ve been writing each other.”

His gaze trailed straight down my body, then up again. “Get in.”

I strode quickly to the passenger door, opened it, and slipped into the bucket seat. Then I tossed my hat in the backseat and began unbuttoning my ACU-camouflaged jacket.

When he slid in beside me, one dark brow lifted, but he didn’t say a thing when I threw it into the back as well and sat in my sweat-damp shirt in the musty car.

“Better roll down the windows.” Then he said a little prayer under his breath and turned the key in the ignition. I buckled my seatbelt. The engine rumbled into life. With a quick, tight grin, he jerked the stick into reverse, and then punched it forward. We rolled out onto the street, heading west rather than east into town.

Hot wind whipped through the interior of the car, dispelling the musty air and tugging at my blond hair looped into a clip at the back of my head. I reached back and released it, then laughed as the Mustang roared.

Glancing toward Haddox, I noted the hard edge of his jaw, the hand wrapped so tight around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearm tensed. I didn’t have to crawl inside his head to know he didn’t want me there, but I was.

Maybe I could help him out a bit. And maybe, he’d see me as more than a fellow soldier who’d shared the bench seat of a deuce-and-a-half truck a time or two. One I’d been driving when he’d had to talk me through a hail of gunfire when our transport convoy came under attack.

I unbuckled my belt, ignoring his deep frown. I turned in the seat and reached for the buttons of his jacket, flicking them open then parting each side.

He didn’t say a thing, but his nostrils flared, his jaw sawed tighter.

I gripped the front of his t-shirt, bunched it in my hand, and tugged it from his ACU trousers.

His stomach jumped, and he sucked it in, making just enough room for me to get my fingers behind the waistband as I unbuckled, unbuttoned and tugged down the zip.

“Dammit, Hollister,” he said, his voice rough as gravel. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

His gruff tone spurred me on. “Not if you keep your eyes on the road,” I said, tilting up my chin. Then I leaned over his lap, folded down the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulled his cock upright.

UPDATE: The winner is…Carol!
*~*~*

Hello Delilah! Thank you for inviting me here today to discuss my latest contribution to a charity anthology. This would be my sixth anthology in four years, and I just love participating in these! The main reason is, of course, to raise money for charity. In this case, breast cancer research. The second reason is to stretch my authorial wings. To try something new. To step out of my comfort zone. Earlier this year, I wrote a short story about a female billionaire for a billionaire anthology. I liked doing something a little different. Flipping expectations on their head.

So, to is my newest project…

When I read The Romance Café was putting together a Jane Austen anthology, my interest was piqued. I love Austen and happen to think Colin Firth was made to play Mr. Darcy. And Jennifer Ehle as Lizzie? Perfection. That being said, my favorite of Austen’s few precious works is Persuasion. I empathized with Anne Elliot and adored Captain Frederick Wentworth. When I saw the premise of the Austen anthology was that each story would include an encounter with an Austen character, I knew which famous couple I would choose.

I also wanted to push other boundaries. I write gay romances. There were gay men way back in Regency England. Some authors I know write amazing Regency MM romances. I aspired to write something just as good. Also, I often write interracial romances. Well, there were Black men in Regency England as well. Many were former slaves, but some came from more esteemed backgrounds. I’d just watched the movie Belle about a Black woman in high society, and I knew what I wanted to write. Along came John Blackthorne and his friend Phillip. When John is recalled from the Navy to attend his family’s estate, he’s shocked. Fortunately, he has his good friend (and sort-of lover) Phillip to accompany him as he takes a position of prestige within his family.

Shoving all that story into 7,000 words was challenging, but I’m always up for doing the near-impossible. I was also writing in a time period I knew virtually nothing about, with a language I wasn’t familiar with and with military protocol I had no clue about. Two good friends (including one who is an actual historian) read the story and gave me suggestions.

I had my story. And I’m hoping readers will enjoy it along with the other twenty or so stories set in Austen’s England.

As a thank you to your readers, I’d love to offer up a $5 Amazon Gift Certificate to one lucky commenter. I’d love to hear which is your favorite Austen novel. And if you’re not a Regency fan, do you enjoy seeing classic characters popping up in modern books? Leave a comment and one random commenter will win!

Thank you, Delilah, for hosting me. I hope everyone runs out and buys the anthology—available through Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited.

Austen’s Tea Party

Take care not to spill the tea (literally) while we share the latest on-dit (aka dish the dirt) about the Ton, who is courting, and who has been compromised in this collection of Austen-inspired romance stories.

Join us for a turn around the room in stories from USA Today best-selling and award-winning romance authors curated by the New Romance Café featuring cameos from some of Jane’s most memorable characters (and some we’d like to forget). ALL proceeds go to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation.

Authors:
Alexa Santi
Angela Kady
Anja Raney
Bianca White
Carrie DiRisio
Catherine Bilson
Catherine Stein
Cecilia Rene
Charlie Lane
Christina Alexandra
Clyve Rose
Deborah E Pearson
Debra-Ann Kummoung
Gabbi Grey
Katy Rose
Kenna Campbell
Michaela Brent
Sharon Michalove
Tabetha Waite
Tanya Wilde
TL Clark

The anthology will only be available for a limited time.

Links:
Universal Link: https://books2read.com/AustenTeaParty
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Austen-Tea-Party-Historical-Collection-ebook/dp/B0BKRC76PS
Add it to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63135499-austen-tea-party

About Gabbi’s story inside Austen’s Tea Party
“An Uncommon Gentleman”

John

I have served as a sailor in His Majesty’s Royal Navy for the past ten years and had no intention of changing that path. The death of my uncle means I must return to Blackthorne Estate to take up my position as Lord and Master. I’ll step up to do my duty. My dearest wish is that my beloved joins me. When he chooses to accompany me, I set my mind to making him mine. Body and soul.

Philip

I have been a sailor for nearly thirty years and will only retire when my captain orders it. When my beloved is called to attend to his family’s estate, he asks me to attend to him as a valet. I’m happy to do so as it keeps me close to him. He wants to grow the affection between the two of us, but I feel the need to attempt to hold myself apart. In the end, though, I suspect he will win this argument.

About Gabbi Grey

USA Today Bestselling author Gabbi Grey lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black and Gabbi Powell.

UPDATE: The winner is…flchen!
*~*~*

Tin Soldier, the third and final book in my Silver Cyborg series releases today. And, while it’s not exactly the end of an era (I was being dramatic when I wrote the title), it is an end.

And I’m oddly conflicted about it.

You see, while I’ve typed #The End# many times in my writing career, this is the first time I’ve concluded a series. And I kinda don’t know how to react.

I’m so excited to bring readers the love story between Gage Austin, a cyborg with a machine-gun leg, and Audra Muir, a woman battling the ravages of breast cancer. I’m equally excited to wrap up the over-arching government conspiracy storyline, and I hope I’ve done it in a believable and emotionally-satisfying manner. If you’ve read my short story inside Silver Soldiers, you’ve already been introduced to Gage and Audra. I had fun writing a short story about them, knowing I was going to finish their story in my book. (Don’t worry, you don’t have to read that story if you want to jump right in to read Tin Solder!)

But… I love my characters. I’ve had three books in which to develop my main characters and a few secondary characters and merge them into an on-page family that supports one another, lets each other be themselves, and—of course—teases each other. Maybe this series is subconsciously my slightly-futuristic underground rebel alliance cybernetic version of F•R•I•E•N•D•S. Maybe it’s my way of showing that “family” isn’t always blood, but those with a shared experience who you choose. Maybe I just stumbled into it without realizing what I’d accomplished. Whatever the reason, I’m emotionally-attached to my characters.

*Pouts* I don’t want this to be #The End#.

Is this how it is with a series? It’s not just the storyline that continues from book to book, but a relationship that builds between characters and readers until we feel we know each other inside and out, and love one another because (or in spite) of it? I mean, I’ve read series before, but never given much thought to why I enjoyed them. And that doesn’t mean I’ve enjoyed them more than other stand-alone stories. Or, at least, I think.

 

When I originally set out to write the Silver Cyborg series, it was only ever going to be three books. And continuing to write past that conclusion feels a little like watching Natasha Romanoff in the “Black Widow” movie after I watched that character die in “Avengers: End Game.” I’ve already said my emotional goodbye, even as I hate to let go, and resurrecting that character feels… weird.

Whatever the case, I’m not ready to say goodbye to my Silver Cyborg family. But, I kinda gotta. Could I write a few more novellas for the secondary characters who didn’t get their HEA story told? Yes. Will I? I’m debating. Should I? Well… I guess that’s up to my readers, isn’t it?

I hesitate to write those stories, mostly because I have a dragon shifter series to finish. Two more hawt dragon shifter brother books and my Star of the North Dragons series will be completed. And that will be another family I love that I have to say goodbye to. Another knife twisting in my heart, thank you very much.

Makes me want to write only stand-alone stories.

That’s not true… I’ve loved writing my series and want to do more.

So, give me a few days to mourn, to pout, to wail… (after all, I am dramatic 😉 But also help me celebrate. I have a new book out! I have a series filled with awesome characters who I adore! I have stories I hope readers will relate to and immerse themselves into!

And, because any writer worth her salt is this way, I have more stories banging around my head that need to be written. So, even though I’m saying a fond farewell to my cybernetic rebel alliance (for now), this certainly isn’t THE END for me 😉

For a chance at an ebook version of Tin Soldier, comment with your preference: stand-alone or series, and why.

Tin Soldier

The Army shuffled Staff Sergeant Gage Austin off to a menial desk job at the Pentagon as hush money… as if he’d admit to anyone he’s a cyborg. Society abhors cyborgs, so Gage keeps to himself and suffers the daily humiliation of an extensive security scan with stoic fortitude. He’s a soldier down to his core processor and would willingly give his all—red blood and blue lubricant—for the land he loves. As such, he accepts the task to locate and safely retrieve missing Pentagon assistant Audra Muir. Yet as sparks sizzle between them, Gage questions whether he’s delivering her to salvation… or doom.

Audra Muir has spent years pilfering secrets about corrupt government oversight of the cybernetics industry under the guise of her job at the Pentagon. As she leaves for breast cancer treatment, she happens upon earth-shattering intel. Determined to hand this information over to the people who will wage that particular war, she battles her own personal recovery and rages against a society that can make a cyborg, but can’t save women from breast cancer. Yet when Gage Austin kisses her, that anger dissipates, replaced by a passion that just might deliver her flagging faith in humanity… and herself.

Gage and Audra find peace from their own inner demons within the heat of each other’s arms. But defeating the evil that is ruining the cybernetics industry is a far bigger enemy, and requires the force of a secret band of rebels and their hidden cyborg army.

Book Three of the Silver Cyborg Series. This story has a romantic happy ending and a resolution of the storyline continuing through books one and two.

Excerpt from Tin Soldier…

“David spoils us with his cooking.” Doc patted David’s hand, then squeezed it. “Among other things.”

Audra smiled at the look of utter adoration Doc sported whenever he glanced at the other man. Did the others see it as well? It was the same expression they each wore whenever they looked at their beloved. Very likely the same expression she had when she looked at Gage.

Did that mean she loved him?

“All those years cooking at the firehouse come in handy.” David shrugged off the compliment, but he winked at Doc.

“I only have years of patting people down and handcuffing them.” Adam offered as he dipped his taco into the adobo stew. “Not sure what I offer the group is on par with you, David.”

“Those skills are for me, alone.” Eve glared at Adam, then jerked. He grunted, then shot her a smirk. Had she just kicked him under the table? “Don’t you dare share.”

He appeased her with a quick kiss on the lips while the others merely chuckled at the innuendo.

Audra chewed slowly, savoring the delicious meal and the comradery, made all the more intimate and serene by the greenery and flowers surrounding the dining area of the bunker. The ceiling screens had switched to early dusk mode, so a light pink digital sun dipped down the horizon of one end of the bunker while a digital half-moon and a galaxy of twinkling lights hovered in the expanding darkness at the other end. Strands of merry lights draped around the dining perimeter like warm hug, lending a halcyon summer picnic vibe that oozed contentment. How could anyone stress about the wrongs of the world above when immersed in the languid peace of this setting?

She’d only met these individuals today, and yet they settled under her skin like comfortable old friends. Friends she’d never had because her life had always been upended and embattled and dangerous. And this past decade of having to isolate herself from humanity…Knowing what little bit of each person’s history they’d shared with her, the others here had suffered much the same. They knew what it was like to live a lonely life on the sharp edge of danger, fearful the secrets in their hearts and bodies would be discovered.

Before they’d found each other, everyone at this table had lived with a mutual trauma that no doubt strengthened the bond they had. And they’d accepted her without question.

Buy Links:
Books2read: https://books2read.com/TinSoldier

About Ava Cuvay

Ava Cuvay is an award-winning bestselling author of out of this world Sci-fi and Paranormal Romance featuring sassy heroines, gutsy heroes, passion, and adventure… often set in a galaxy far, far away. She resides in central Indiana with her own scruffy-looking nerfherder and kiddos who remind her daily she’s not nearly as cool as she thinks. She believes life is too short to bother with negative people, everything is better with Champagne, and Han Solo shot first. When not writing, Ava is thinking about writing. Or wine. And she’s always thinking about bacon.

I’m posting late again. This time, it’s not due to my age-addled brain. We had heavy thunderstorms last night and lost power around 3:30 AM. It came back on around 5. Then went out again at 6 AM. Power did not return until after 6 tonight. I live in a rural area, so our service restoration ALWAYS takes last priority after more populated areas (even though our service is more expensive than for the townies).

How did we spend our day? We waited for a good five hours before digging the generator out of the shed. Usually, outages only last about four hours. So long as we don’t open the fridge, we’re good. We hunker down, eat sandwiches, and during the heat of summer, we open the windows to get a breeze flowing through the house. This time, it didn’t pop back on so we ran one cord to the fridge and used the second plug on the generator to run a coffee pot then charge our phones. It was hot and sticky. The house smelled. We smelled. When most of the others decided to head to town to eat dinner and sit in the AC, the 14-year-old and I stayed behind to walk and water dogs and SWIM in the pool. So refreshing.

Mostly, we hung out and napped. Our internet was down, but we could pick up a few bars by walking out into the yard to call the damn electric company. It would’ve been nice if they could’ve given us updates, but they don’t do that. All we got was the message that said there were outages in our area, and they were working on them. I feel for anyone who didn’t have a generator because no doubt they are emptying their refrigerators and freezers of spoiled food. I know in some places, somewhere, you can make a list of your losses and submit them for some amount of refund, but not here.

So, long story short. The power’s back on. I lost of day of work. I have a ton of emails to get through, and I’m burning candles and incense to freshen the air. Humidity + animals + human sweat = a stinky house. But we’re back! No contest today, and more than you wanted to know about my real life, but this space is mine and I over-share.

Y’all have a great evening. I plan to putter around a bit more, feed my traumatized betta, and get an early night. I have a lot of catching up to do tomorrow.