The Long and Winding Road

Eight years ago, I decided to write a book.

It was scary. I didn't know what I was doing. I opened my ancient laptop and started writing. I talked myself out of it about a quarter of the way through, thinking it was crap and no one would ever read it.

For some reason, more than a year later, I went back and opened it up. It wasn't bad. It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad.

And one day, in the winter of 2010, I finished it.

God, how terrifyingly cathartic that was.

I sent it in to Dreamspinner, the first publisher that came up when I searched for "gay books publishing". (Keep in mind, back then, I wasn't very computer savvy. I didn't have any social media, and the only time I ever really got on the Internet was to get directions or to buy physical copies of books off Amazon.)

Oh man, that draft I sent in put the rough in rough draft. I spell-checked it. Annnnd that's about it. 

But for some reason, the good people at DSP saw through the terrible presentation, and decided to accept a book with the unlikely title of Bear, Otter, and the Kid.

(side note--when I first announced it, some people thought it was a threesome book about a bearish man, a less hairy otter-type dude, and a younger man. So. Way to think that one through, Klune.)

On August 12, 2011, it was released.

And for some reason it blew the fuck up.

I dunno, man. I still can't explain it. Luck, maybe. Right story, right time, possibly. Maybe a little talent, but it's not the best told story (and you hush; I am allowed to be critical of my own work). I would change things about it now, but that's probably why I'll never go back and revise it. I don't want to mess with the flaws, because I think it shows how much I've grown as a writer since then.

I've gone over this all before, and in greater detail, both the good and bad that followed. There's no need to rehash that here.

Six years, though. Here we are six years later, and I'm once again writing about this funny little family of mine. But I go into it now knowing full well that I'm approaching the end. Because make no mistake, this is the end. I know that's not what people want to hear, and I get that. I do. But if I went in and tried to write BOATK8 or 9 or hell, even 5, it would lessen the impact these books have. I believe the sign of an adept writer is knowing where to end the story.

And here, finally, is their ending.

On August 11, 2017, just one day shy of the sixth anniversary of Bear, Otter, and the Kid, I'll invite you back to Seafare one last time. I have put as much love and care into The Long and Winding Road as any book I've written before. Because as much as you care about these characters, they are my first, and mean more to me than I could ever say. I needed to know that once I said goodbye, that whatever journey they'd go onto without me, they'd be safe and happy and living the lives I wished for them ever since I wrote that first chapter so many years ago.

Pre-orders will be up soon.

Sean Crisden (Bear, Otter and the Kid, The Art of Breathing) will be narrating the audio, though it won't be out until probably this winter.

I'll have more to say on it in the coming weeks, but I'll end this with the reason you're all here.

Talk soon,

tj

 

Official Blurb:

Family is not always defined by blood. It’s defined by those who make us whole—those who make us who we are.

And here, at the end, Bear and Otter will be tested like they’ve never been before.

There’s a knock at the door from a little girl who has nowhere else to go.

There’s a phone ringing, bringing news they do not expect.

There’s a brother returning home after learning how to stand on his own.

As these moments converge, all of their lives will change forever.

Beginning in Bear, Otter, and the Kid, and continuing in Who We Are and The Art of Breathing, TJ Klune has told a saga of family and brotherhood, of love and sacrifice. In this final chapter, the events of the past pave the long and winding road toward a future no one could have imagined.

 

Cover by Paul Richmond (who also did the redesigns for the first three books):

 

 

A Destiny of Dragons: Hold on to Your Butts

   

 

 

First things first:

Pre-order is up through DSP only. All other sites will come mid-June.

DSP Pre-Order:https://goo.gl/oyGkEH

Next order of business, a few things:

1) The audiobook will be out when its out. Look, folks, I wish it could be out day one. I've advocated for pushing back releases on books and letting everything happen all at once, but no dice. I know everyone loves the audios, and they're great! Michael is amazing. But it won't be out right away. Depending upon the length of the story, it could take months. So when you hear a release date for a book, plan on on adding 4-6 (possibly longer) mos after for the audio. 

2) There is a new character that has caused a bit of an uproar (heh). His name is Ruv (pronounced Roov), and as people have read from the blurb, he is supposedlySam's true cornerstone. Now, if you'll recall from The Lightning-Struck Heart, there is never just one cornerstone. Morgan tells Sam that if it's not Ryan, it could be someone else. Take that as you will. Which leads to--

3) This will not become a menage or MMM story. I don't write MMM. Nothing wrong with it, it just doesn't hold any interest for me. So rest assured this won't all of a sudden go in that direction.

4) The length of Destiny is roughly around the same length as Lightning, possibly a little bit shorter.

But when all is said and done, you should still expect some what-the-fuckery.

(BWAHAHAHA!)

The Lightning-Struck Heart is built around a trope. If youthink about it, and take away all the manic crazy and the dragon rimming a unicorn in the butt stuff, TLSH is about rescuing a prince from a dragon who has stolen him to its keep.

Simple, right?

I love fantasy. Ever since I was a kid, I've read as much as I can get my hands on. I grew up in Mordor and Discworld and Earthsea and Narnia. I love everything about it: swords and wizards and magic and fantastical creatures in faraway places.

That being said, sometimes, fantasy is really fucking stupid.

Which is what I wanted to do with what I refer to as the DESTINY FUCK YEAH! Trilogy. It's comprised of A Destiny of Dragons, The Consumption of Magic, and A Wish Upon the Stars. These books, which follow the events of TLSH, tell one massive story. (Which brings me to another point: since all the books are connected, you should be aware of the dreaded word cliffhanger. Destiny doesn't end on a cliffhanger, not really; at least not the type where everyone is about to die and all of a sudden, it's over. However, it does end with many things unresolved. But the good news is, all the books are complete and will be released within a few months of each other: Consumption in the fall and Wish in early 2018.)

And I built this new trilogy around tropes, mainly the Chosen One Who Has A Destiny Trope (capitalized, so you know it's true).

Look, destinies are dumb. They really are. Frodo and Bilbo and Harry Potter and countless of other heroes have had destinies thrust upon them. They are the CHOSEN ONE. And I hate how much I love that trope (or love how much I hate it, I dunno). I wanted to write a book(s) where there is a destiny, and it's immediately called out for how ridiculous and vague it is.

In addition, each of the books in this new trilogy will play around with another specific trope. For Destiny, it's the trope you find in sequels to books that feature an established couple: the dreaded Introduction of a New Character Who Only Exists To Cause Trouble and/or Jealousy for a Happy Pair.

I've done this before. Legit. Check Isaiah in Who We Are. But I really wasn't conscious of the trope when I wrote that book back in 2011. But holy hell I am now, and I exploit it as much as possible. I liked the idea of grumpy and growly Ryan Foxheart. I also like Ruv. I really do. I wanted to create a sympathetic character that you will hate initially, but then might have a little twinge of something for later on. Hell, some of you might even root for him to get all up in Sam's bidness. (You know who you are, you Lady Tina's of the world.) And while I won't say what happens there, I can promise that Team HaveHeart will have much to cheer for (even if it takes them--you know what? Never mind. I'll just keep that to myself.)

These books will always first and foremost be absurd comedies. Always. However, there is an emotional heft and a sense of urgency that wasn't in Lightning. While I firmly acknowledge the tropes I'm playing around with, that doesn't mean they won't lead to...consequences. Of a...certain variety.

Before I do sequels, I always sit down and ask myself what do I want to accomplish? Why does (fill in the blank character) need another story, and what will they learn by the end?

Destiny picks up roughly a year after Lightning ends. Sam is young, of course, still in his early twenties. When Destiny begins, he's still...Sam. The main goal, aside from fucking around with Tropey McTroperson, was to show Sam mature. He's gotten his happily ever after, but what does that mean? And can he be the same person he's always been, even when the weight of the world falls upon his shoulders? Sam of Wilds needs to grow up if he's ever going to do what's being asked of him. Or does he even want to?

The other question I asked myself arose from this scenario: in TLSH, Sam of Wilds is told repeatedly that he's stronger than any other wizard out there.

So, just how strong is he?

Which led to: Morgan and Randall are hundreds of years old because of the strength of their magic.

What does that mean for Sam? Will he stay as he is now while most everyone he knows and loves ages and fades away around him?

(ooooooooh!)

There are specific scenes in Lightning that paved the way for this new trilogy. If one were so inclined, I might suggest one goes back and re-reads the scene with Dmitri and the fairies in the Dark Woods, specifically the end of that meeting. And also any scenes that explain just how important cornerstones are. Because in the end, it always comes back to the cornerstones.

All pre-order locations should be up soon, and I'll have more to say on Destiny in the weeks ahead.

 

tj

Here's Why You're Clueless

I tend to stay away from drama in this community. I think, for the most part, it's usually pointless and contrived. It's usually some bullshit blown out of proportion, and honestly? I've got other things to focus on. Which is why I've been on Facebook less and less. Everyday it just seems to be something new.

So, of course, imagine my complete surprise (insert eyeroll) when this happened:

 

Okay, so, big deal right? Funny, ha ha. A known female author(s) identifying with something she is not. Whatevs.

Except.

It's not that funny.

And some people began commenting as such.

Now, from what I understand, most of those comments were deleted by Kindle Alexander.

However, they had a point. The point being that Kindle Alexander is a woman. Who writes gay romance. Which, in of itself, is no big deal. But, she is most certainly not a man.

Instead of buckling down and apologizing, or hell, even deleting the post and ignoring it, this happened.

 

That's not an apology. Oh, sure, it has the words I'm sorry in the first sentence (which, is conveniently negated by the second sentence, but hey--cool, cool, cool). 

There is a difference, Ms. Alexander, between "supporting" LGBT rights, and appropriating it like you have done.

But hell, even I could forgive a tone-deaf, half-assed apology. I mean, who the hell hasn't said something stupid? I have. All the time.

But it's the comment that followed this "apology" and Kindle Alexander's response, as shown above, that is the most ridiculous thing I've seen so far today. (Granted, I've been awake for an hour, so.)

The people referenced as "haters" were, from what I understand, part of the LGBT community, pointing out that Ms. Alexander is, in fact, not a gay man.

So when the commenter, Jo Grimmster, says "round them all up, shove'em in some nasty place like outback Australia and let them kill themselves off," Ms. Alexander should have responded, as one does when they claim to be an "ally" by condemning such a remark. I don't think I need to point out the connotations of Jo Grimmster's comment. They are pretty damn clear.

Kindle Alexander doesn't condemn it, as you can see. It made her "smile."

Ms. Alexander, here's why you're clueless.

You claim to be an ally. You profit off the lives of gay men, given that's what you write about. You say not one word of disrespect was given, and yet, the very next comment is disrespect that you did nothing but "smile" about.

You can't be a part time ally.

That's not how this works.

I urge readers to make up their own minds.

I offer another piece of evidence.

We aren't your enemy.

roundthem all up, shove'em in some nasty place like outback Australia and let them kill themselves off

you made me smile

Ms Alexander, you are not an ally when this makes you smile. When someone (multiple someones, even) tells you that something you said wasn't right, then you need to check your words before doubling down on them.

Don't tell us what to fear. Don't tell us you are going to build us up when the evidence indicates you have no problem tearing people down.

Start with an actual, real apology.

And for the love of god, don't claim to be something you are not.

 

 

New PO Box

So, I've been asked again and again and again to set up a PO Box so y'all can send me books you want me to sign and other stuff. I've been lazy, but I finally did it. Keep in mind that if you do send me something that will be mailed back to you, you need to include proper return packaging and postage. Otherwise, I will yell at you over the internet and possibly say something mean and then throw whatever you sent me into the fire.

Do not send me porn. I get enough people doing that in my messages. (WHY DO YOU DO THIS.)

Do not send me a movie directed by Michael Bay. I will come and light your house on fire.

Do not send me food. I will not eat it in case someone is trying to assassinate me.

Tj Klune

PO Box 7386

Fredericksburg VA 22404

Until You Cover/Blurb/Pre-Order Spectacular!

Donald Trump is now president.

Let me do my part in welcoming him by releasing the cover for the next At First Sight book, which is the super gay wedding of Paul Auster and Vince Taylor. This is a novella comprised of 50K words of shenanigans, a bachelor party planned by a drag queen, workplace blowjobs, and happy tears.

So, without further adudes--

Pre-order:

https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/until-you-by-tj-klune-8201-b

Blurb:

Together with their families and friends

Paul Auster

and

Vincent Taylor

request the honor of your company at the celebration of their marriage.

 

Cover by Reese Dante (notice the chubby cake topper *dying*)

Cover By Reese Dante

Cover By Reese Dante

Here, Have Some Happy:

I'm sad, today. And angry. And frustrated.

I don't want to be.

The Lightning-Struck Heart has always been one of my happy places.

And I hear from a lot of people that it's theirs too.

So.

I was saving this for a special occasion. And today is as good as any.

So, here. Have a short story following the events of The Lightning Struck Heart, featuring the adventures of Sam and Justin as our favorite idiot wizard's apprentice tries to find the prince a boyfriend.

Yes, it goes as well as you think it will.

(and forgive any mistakes. It's just been given a cursory run through, so my bad if it's not completely edited. Also, don't add this to Goodreads as part of the series. I don't want it listed on there currently. It's actually the first chapter of the next book, A Destiny of Dragons, but it stands on its own as a short story with no spoilers for the book that follows.)

Be safe, be well, and keep your chin up, okay?

Tj

 

Best Friends 5eva

 

“Do I even want to know what we’re doing?” Prince Justin asked me as we walked down a side street in the City of Lockes, trying to avoid detection.

“Absolutely,” I said. Probably not. “I have the best ideas.”  There was plenty of evidence to the contrary, but it was usually spouted by excessively negative people, and I hated excessively negative people. “You can trust me.” This was going to end in tears and death, mostly likely my own, but he didn’t need to know that. At least not yet. I grinned at him my most trustworthy grin as I led him into an alley.

He stared at me.

I widened my smile so he’d understand.

 “Are you…are you about to be ill? Because you look like you’re about to be ill. Like you just ate a plate of bad beef and are entirely unsure of what end it’s going to come out of. I suppose that’s how you normally look, though, so I don’t really think there’s much of a difference.”

“I’m smiling at you. To show my trustworthiness.”

He grimaced. “Funny how that works. I still don’t trust you at all.”

“Lie. You trust me a little bit. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have snuck out of the castle with me without asking me why.”

“I didn’t do anything with you. You put your hand over my mouth and told me I had to come with you if I wanted to live. And I repeatedly demanded you tell me the reasons for—”

“We’re the best of friends,” I told a rather large alley rat as it scurried along down the cobblestone. “He hugged me once in the forest while a naked man with wings tried to get us to touch each other inappropriately.” I frowned at that. “Huh. What does it say about my life that that sentence makes complete and total sense to me?”

“We’re not anything of the sort,” Justin snapped. “In fact, my first act as King will probably be to have you beheaded. Fair warning. And the hug was against my will, like most of the things you do to me. And it was made worse by the fact that the King of Fairies kept telling you to lick my—”

“You can’t kill me,” I reminded him as I stopped us at the entrance of the alley. “You would miss me too much and would probably feel really bad.” And I would also be dead, which would suck for me.

“I highly doubt I would feel anything at all but immense relief.”

Okay, I could work with that. “The people would revolt.”

“Or there would be celebrations in the streets as they would no longer need to hear your inane prattling.”

My ace in the hole! “Gary would come after you.”

Justin sighed. “Now that I believe. He still looks at me like I wasn’t the one left standing at the altar on my wedding day while my fiancé stared lovingly into the eyes of another man and spouted disgusting platitudes of jerking off your heart or whatever the hell else was said.”

I glanced out the alley to make sure we hadn’t been noticed. “I don’t know if that’s quite what happened.”
           

His glare was rather ferocious. “Care for me to refresh your memory?”

Nope, not at all. “You’re distracting yourself from what’s important.”

He gaped at me. “Your level of self-awareness would be remarkable if it wasn’t so terrifying.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t—”

 “Don’t you want to know why we’re here?” I asked.

“No.”

“You did just a second ago.”

“I’ve since changed my mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to know? Not even a little bit?”

“Sam, if you don’t take me back to the Castle this instant, I’m going to make sure you’re miserable for the rest of our lives.”

My heart swelled. It was inevitable.

He took a step back. “What. Why are you looking at me like that? Like you’re having feelings?”

I needed to hug him very badly. “Because,” I said, taking a step toward him. “You just said you wanted me to be miserable for the rest of our lives. Like we’re going to live long and miserably together. Forever. As best friends.”

He blanched as he held up his hands, back hitting the brick wall of the building behind him. “That’s not what I meant. You stay back! You hear me? Goddammit Sam, you stay back—”

“We’re going to hug,” I demanded, taking another step.

“No, no we’re not.”

“You can’t stop it,” I said, holding my arms out wide. “It’s gonna happen.”

“Godsdammit, I will kick you in the—”

But before he could move, I had him pressed up against the brick wall, arms wrapped tightly around him. His own arms were trapped at his sides. I laid my head on his shoulder, tucking my nose against his neck. “Shh,” I said. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay. Just let it happen.”

“You are hugging me against my will.”

“There’s no such thing,” I whispered. It was a good hug. Maybe not the best, but we had time to get there. Justin had all but just admitted that. It was glorious. I would probably write a poem about this day when we got back home.

He sighed heavily, like he couldn’t believe I could be so wonderful. “You really don’t understand boundaries, do you?”

“Only that they’re made to be broken,” I said. “Also, I would let your arms go, but you’ve already proven you can’t be trusted to hug me back.”

“It’s not my fault you bruise so easily,” he muttered.

“Yet, you still seem to try—”

“Are we done yet?”

“It hasn’t even been a full minute. Everyone knows that hugs last for at least two minutes. It’s mandatory.”

“No one thinks that. Sam, literally no one.”

“Maybe we should,” I said, squeezing him tighter. “Maybe there’d be no wars if people just hugged all the time. After all, you can’t be armed if you have someone in your arms.”

“Unless I stab you in the—”

I felt like that was a good time to end the hug.

I turned back toward the entrance to the alley as he grumbled what I was sure was nothing but compliments about my existence.

It was going on dusk, and the street ahead was busy as people scurried about. Shopkeepers working the stalls called out their wares in loud, boisterous voices, selling fresh fish from the port and handwoven baskets and jewels crafted by the fires of dragons. It stank of animal shit, cooking meat and something so distinctly Verania that I couldn’t help but love every single piece and part of it. These were my people, this was my city. As if in response, somewhere in the crowd, there came the sweet, sweet chords of a lute playing a song that had taken Verania by storm over the last several months after it’d spent close to a year circulating in the pubs.

“I swear to the gods,” Justin muttered, “if I have to hear that goddamn song about cheesy dicks one more time, I’m going to find out who started it and send them to the dungeons forever.”

Since I had no desire to poop in a bucket for the rest of my life, I said, “I don’t hear anything, so let’s stop talking about it and focus on other things. Like how I’m about to change your life. For the better.”

“Anyone else, I might believe that. Coming from you, it sounds like a threat.”

Since anything he had to say was, at this point, entirely without merit, I ignored him. I had a scene to set, after all. “Imagine,” I said, waving my hands slowly in front of me, setting the shit out of that scene. “It’s a lovely evening. There’s music in the air. Everyone is happy. There’s a feeling of joy in your heart.”

He glared at me.

“Joy,” I insisted. “You’re feeling joy.”

His eyes narrowed further.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll come back to that part and work on it a little later. By the way, did you know that the skin under your eye twitches when I talk? I noticed that a long time ago. I wonder why that is. You may want to see the doctor in case it’s a sign of illness or stress. Are you stressed? I can’t imagine why. Where was I? Dammit. I forgot what we were talking about.”

“Sam,” Justin ground out.

“That’s right,” I said. “The scene. There’s music and happiness—mostly—and joy in your heart, or there soon will be. The night stretches out in front of you filled with promise. Your senses are tingling and you’re thinking, yes, this is going to be something magical. This is what I’ve been waiting for.”

“That’s not what I’m thinking right now.”

“Regardless,” I said, “you will be thinking it. And when you’re thinking it, when you’re caught up in the moment, when you feel like you’re finally alive, what’s the one thing you notice is missing?”

“The reason for why your parents didn’t sell you for the highest price they could the moment they realized you were nothing but an unmitigated tragedy?”

“Close,” I said. “You’re missing love.”

He blinked at me, looking startled.

It didn’t last long.

“Love,” he repeated slowly, starting to frown.

“Love,” I agreed.

“Sam, I mean this in the most succinct way possible. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“What. The fuck. Are you talking about?”

I sighed.  “Look, maybe, quite possibly, I feel bad for a certain knight coming to a dawning realization at the worst possible moment.”

“Really,” he said flatly. “You feel bad about that.”

I did. Granted, it led to my virginity getting completely destroyed by the love of my young, albeit adventurous, life, but yes. I still felt slightly bad. It’d been years since I’d given my heart away, but only thirteen months since I was sure it’d be protected enough for me to let it go. And I would always remember the look of betrayal on Justin’s face when his husband-to-be looked him straight in the eye and said he loved another. “Mostly bad,” I said. “Slightly giddy, but bad too. It’s paradoxical, but then I am an enigma.”

He rolled his eyes. “I still blame you. But mostly him.”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“Right? Such a fucking idiot.”

“Seriously! Who does that? He literally waited until you were getting married to confess his undying love and admiration for me.”

“I would have believed that more if you hadn’t gotten that sappy look on your face.”

 I shrugged. “It’s a byproduct. Of the love and admiration.”

 “It’s an affliction. A symptom of a festering disease that must be eradicated.”

“Or one that we need to infect you with, which is why we’re here. Gods, I love it when conversations come full circles. Don’t you just love that? I do.”

He stared at me with an expression on his face that suggested he did not love that.

“Anyway,” I said hastily. “Let me get a good look at you before we proceed. I have to know what I’m working with.”

“Working with? Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you’re making me do?”

“To be fair, you don’t like anything I make you do, so. Now, hush. Let me gaze upon you.”

“Is this some freakish wizard thing?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t. “That’s exactly it.” That wasn’t it at all.

 I suppose if one liked frigid bitches hiding hearts laced with gold, one could reasonably say that that Grand Prince Justin of Verania was an attractive man. Sure, he often looked like he’d bitten into the most bitter of lemons (something I’d tried to cure him of but only seemed to make worse) but men and women alike fawned over his porcelain skin, waxing poetically over his chocolate brown curls. How regal he was, they exclaimed. How beautiful. It was as if the gods themselves had a hand in his making.

Even after I’d essentially princenapped him, he looked well put together. He was statuesque, broad shouldered with a narrow waist. He had elegant fingers and calloused palms, a testament to how well-versed of a swordsman he was. His expensively embroidered tunic was stretched tightly across his arms and chest. His trousers had the right amount of pull along his thighs and—

“Holy crap,” I breathed. “You’re dreamy.”

He said, “What.” No inflection whatsoever.

“Like, no, just…give me a moment. My world view just shifted and I’m struggling to go along with it.”

“So…pretty much a normal day then for you.”

“When did you get attractive?” I demanded.

“Are you hitting on me?” he asked incredulously.

 “What! No! Of course not. At least, I don’t think I am. Am I? I really need to sit down and think about this. What am I doing? With this? With my life? Oh my gods, what am I doing with my—”

Justin scoffed. “It wasn’t enough that you swooped in and stole my fiancé right out from under me, but now you’ve taken me to a dark and dank alley to have your way with me? For shame, Sam of Wilds. For shame.”

“I would never have my way with you in a dark and dank alley,” I retorted. “I’m a gentleman. I would woo the shit out of you, wine and dine, the whole nine yards. And then we’d make sweet passionate love on a bed covered in roses and I would just go to town on your butt because apparently I’m a power top and—what the fuck are we talking about?”

He looked horrified. “I have no idea! You’re the one that stole me away to try and power top me! I don’t even know what that means!”

“That’s not—” I took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Okay. Somehow, you’ve gotten us all off track. As usual.”

Me? Why you little—”

“We’re here because we’re going on a date.”

“I don’t want to date you! In fact, I would rather do anything else—”

“Not me. I found you a date with an awesome dude!”

It wasn’t silent after that. No, it really couldn’t have been, seeing as how we were in the middle of the City of Lockes. But Prince Justin was silent, like his mind had been blown at the thought of my extraordinary generosity, his synapses firing in the face of just how much I cared.

Which, honestly, contrasted heavily when he finally spoke. “You did what.”

“Okay, so look. It’s really rather terrible, but something I’ve learned is that when one falls in love and is happy about it, one wants nothing more than to spread that love to others, to see best friends—okay, okay don’t growl  at me, almost best friends, gods—experience the same joy of falling for someone. I love love so much, that I want to shove it down your throat so you know what I’m going through.”

“Sam.”

“Yes, Justin.”
           

“Are you telling me that right now, there is someone waiting for me to come to them to go on a date with them? Someone I’ve never met.”
           

“Um. Yes?”

“How are you a real person?”
           

I frowned at him. “You know what? That’s not the first time I’ve been asked that.”

“Who is he?” Justin asked, sounding resigned (which, possible meant he was thrilled; I hadn’t quite worked out all of Justin’s facial expressions as of yet).

“Oh! You’re going to love him. His name is William and he’s a Sagittarius and he likes the same things you do.”

“Like…”

“Um. You know. Stuff. Things. That everyone likes.”

He cocks his head at me. “Sam.”

“Yes, Justin.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“At…the store.”

“What store?”

I was feeling awfully sweaty because I really couldn’t lie for shit. I suppose that was a good thing. Mostly. “The…hat. Store.”

“The hat store.”

“Yes,” I said, swallowing. “Where I was buying a hat.”

“What kind of hat?”

Why was it so warm in the dark and dank alley? “A porkpie.”

He took a step toward me. “Really.”

I nodded. “Gary says they’re all the rage this season. And I trust his fashion sense. Because he’s a unicorn. Unicorns are very fashionable, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“And this man. This…William. What does he look like?”

And godsdamn his inquisitive mind! How neatly a trap it laid! “Like a…male…person.”

“Sam.”

“Yes, Justin.” He was standing really close to me. I was uncomfortable.

“What—”

“Fine!” I cried. “You’ve broken me. I’ve withstood Dark wizards and really invasive corn but I can’t take the endless pools that are your eyes. I’ve never met him before. I’ve never even seen him before!”
           

“Aha!” Justin cried. Then, “Wait. What.”

“Ah, man. I feel better. That really was weighing on me.”

“What do you mean you’ve never seen him?”
           

I blinked. “Just that. I’ve never seen him before.” Was it that hard to understand?

“Then how do you know him?” he asked dangerously.

“He answered answered the ad.”

Justin closed his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily through his nose. “What ad?”

Well, this was off to a very bad start. “Um. The one I placed in the back of Lockes of Love, the periodical for singles who are ready to mingle in the City of Lockes under their man for man section?”

The skin under his eye twitched.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I made you sound really good. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s bullshitting.”

Another twitch. Or maybe a more pronounced one. Like it was spreading.

“I’m serious! Look, I even cut it out and saved it, it was so good.” I reached into the pocket under my robes and pulled out the folded piece of paper. I handed over to Justin, who just glared at me. I poked it against his hand. “Come on. Come on, take it. Take it.”

A man walked by the alley, staring at us with wide eyes.

I waved at him.

He walked away quickly.

Justin grabbed the paper from my hand and brought it up to his face. I didn’t need to see what it said. I’d already had the genius of it memorized.

Looking For Love!

M4M. In position of power, would like someone else to take charge. Me: 20s Attractive w/ resting bitch face. Intelligent, slightly evil, ambitious. People think I’m cold, but it’s really a front for a semi-soft heart. I like rolling my eyes at wizards even though I secretly like them and think they’re pretty cool. I also like deviled eggs.

“I know so much about you,” I said helpfully.

 You: Older? Maybe. Assertive attitude. Real go-getter. Takes what you want. Commanding, even. Must have eyebrows. Double jointed is a plus. No Darks or fairies named Dimitri.

Justin looked up at me slowly.

I smiled at him. “You’re welcome. Some of them got really porny, but I took the high road. One talked about splitting you like a—”

 “And someone responded to this,” he said, voice strangely even.

“Yes! Well, actually, like a hundred people did, but I narrowed it down to the best one. And I’ve been sending notes back and forth posing as you so I could get a real sense of him. He seems like a nice guy. Maybe a little bossy, but I figured that’s something you can work on when you marry him. Also, for some reason, he likes to call you boy and expects to be obeyed at all times, but hey, just roll with it. Could be fun.”

“What part of you thought that this would be a good idea?”

“Most parts,” I said. “But that’s why I’m here. In case he turns out to be a raging psychopath—which I highly doubt because it seems like that’s something you’d have to put down in the ad—I’ll be there right by your side.”

He said nothing for a long time. My jaw hurt from smiling so much.

 Finally, “So let me get this straight. You impersonated the Prince of Verania to set up a date for me by using a personal ad in the back of a magazine that I usually see lying in the gutters and covered with bird feces. And not only that, but someone responded to said ad and now I’m on my wait to meet him. Where you will also be in attendance.”

“All the highlights,” I said, suitably impressed.

Lots of twitching going on.

“Also,” I said. “One more thing.” I reached into my robe in the inner pocket and pulled out two matching beards from my old Mervin days. “Disguises. So we won’t be recognized. If all goes well, then William will understand why you had to lie. Especially if it’s for love. Do you want to put this on or should—you know what. I’ll just do it. Just…hold still. You’re kind of tense. Like really, really tense. It’s not good for your back. And your hands are fists right now. So much tension. Sorry the beard is a little wet. And sticky. Tiggy spilled juice on it right before we left and I didn’t have time to clean it. Just gonna hold it on your face for a moment to make sure it sticks…annnnd, done.”

He looked ridiculous.

“You look amazing,” I said. “William won’t know what hit him.”

I had the best ideas.

****

I had the worst ideas.

Not that they started out that way, mind you, but for some reason, they tended to devolve quickly and out of my control. Dragons, truth corn, getting gay fairy married, turning boys to stone and asking an important wizard to not explode my nipples. I’d like to think I have the best intentions in mind, but I lose the thread part way through.

Like today, for example.

I wanted Justin to find love.

And thought what if I brought love to him.

Ergo, I put out a search for love.

And then bring him to love.

Foolproof, right?

Almost. Except for the fact that William seemed to be almost as big as Tiggy, wore an entire herd’s worth of leather, and made us call him Sir.

Justin and I sat side by side in the open air café that William had suggest we meet at (though, if I was remembering correctly, he’d said negotiate rather than meet, but I had a lot going on at the time, so I couldn’t be faulted for not remembering every little detail.) I wore a beard similar to Justin’s, something that Sir hadn’t missed, given that he’d raised an eyebrow as we approached and said, “I’m down for twins.”

I should have known it was going to go downhill from there.

“Now, I understand you’re looking to be dominated,” Sir said.

Justin squeaked.

“Uhh,” I said. “I don’t think that’s quite what I—”

“Did I say you could speak, boy?” Sir asked sharply.

“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

He waited a beat, as if making sure I wouldn’t step out of line again. I didn’t, because I didn’t want to get fisted or have something shoved up my pee hole.

“Now. We should probably discuss hard limits,” Sir said. “I’m okay with most things, even the…fluids…some others might have problems with. Even the more solid ones.”

“So unbelievably gross,” I breathed in awe.

“Also, after you sign the contract, you will become my personal property, and I like to share. I have a lot of friends who will want to tear off a piece for themselves while I watch. You will treat them with respect while they treat you like a piece of meat. It’s how these things go. Also, I have this kink where I treat my subs like footstools.”

“I will see you castrated for this,” Justin whispered furiously at me.

“Stop saying things he might like!” I whispered back.

Sir coughed in warning.

We stared at him with wide eyes.

“Are you two quite finished?”

“You have no idea,” Justin said.

“Absolutely none,” I agreed.
           

“Good. Tell me. How do you feel about puppy play?”

Before I could answer that (Ooh, I like puppies!), we were interrupted by a shrill, grating, and dare I say shriekish voice. “Well eat me up and shit me out. Just what do we have here?”

I sighed. “Crap. I am never going to hear the end of this.”

I turned slowly, already knowing what I would find.

Sure enough, there on the street only a few feet away (how had I not hear them approach!), stood a hornless unicorn, a half-giant, a dragon, and a knight with a resigned look on his face, something that I was extraordinarily used to being directed at my person, even after all this time.

“Heyyy,” I said with a wave. “What. Is. Up.”

Hey, he says,” Gary snapped, flipping his mane prettily. “Can you believe this? You raise a child most of his life, watch him go through painful years of puberty to become a reasonably attractive man, only to find him negotiating kink contracts with a leather Dom and saying hey.” He sniffled. “I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life.”

Tiggy frowned. “Sam a pain slut?”

“I highly doubt that, kitten. You know how he gets when he stubs a toe. He doesn’t pop a boner, that’s for sure.”

“He’s growing up so fast,” the dragon named Kevin rumbled. “I remember when he was just a wee slip of a lad. Now he’s this young man finding his way in the world. A sexy way that I will probably actively participate in because that’s just who I am. No judgements. We’re all gods’ creatures, right? Just writhing on top of each—”

“Do I even want to know what you’re doing?” the knight asked, cocking a devastatingly unfair eyebrow.

Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart, the dreamiest dream to have ever been dreamed.

And probably currently not very happy with me.

“It’s not what it looks like?” I tried.

They all stared at me.

“Okay, it probably is what it looks like, but not for me. I’m not some kind of pain slut like Justin is. I’m here for moral support and nothing else.”

“Really,” Sir said. “You sure about that?”

“Wow,” I said. “Your voice is deeply intimidating. That’s impressive. I’m impressed.” I turned back to the others. “Did you hear that? He makes us call him Sir. This is fun. I’m having such a good time. Please save me.”

“Sam put a personal ad in the newspaper to try and make up for the fact that he is a homewrecker,” Justin said.

“See, that makes sense,” Gary said.

“Hey! What about what I said?”

“Sam,” Gary said, sounding disappointed. “Honestly, what do you expect me to believe? I know Justin’s not a pain slut, because I’ve never seen him at the club getting flogged by Honest Helga.”

“That’s not a club I want to go to,” I said. “Because of Honest Helga.”

“She certainly knows how to pack a punch,” Kevin agreed.

And,” Gary said, “I know you’re a homewrecker because I witnessed it with my own eyes. Remember that? Sam? Do you? When you wrecked their home? I remember when you wrecked their home.”

Tiggy crossed his arms over his considerable chest. “That’s not nice, Sam. Even if Knight Delicious Face ate your flower.”

“He most certainly did,” Kevin said. “We all heard it too. The acoustics in the castle are just extraordinary. Raise your hand if you thought Sam would be a screamer.”

Tiggy raised his hand. Kevin raised a claw. Gary stood on three legs.

“I didn’t scream,” I said, scowling at all of them. “I was providing encouragement to my boo so he knew he was doing a good job. It’s called positive reinforcement.”

Ryan turned his face toward the heavens and sighed. He was either silently agreeing with me or deciding now was a good time to study up on constellations.

Kevin snorted a little lick of fire. “It sure sounded like you were positively reinforcing his—”

“Dear,” Gary said. “We’ve talked about this. It’s not polite to discuss other people’s sex lives when one or more of them is a prude.”
           

“I’m not a prude. Do you know how many things Ryan has done to me? Like, seventeen things.”

“Name three,” Gary said rather gleefully as he pranced in place.

“Easily,” I said. “This one time, he put his toes in my—”

“That’s probably enough of that,” Ryan said.

I mimed the rest to Gary. It was the most accurate thing I’d ever done.

Gary squinted at me. “Are you pretending to eat a watermelon covered in peanut butter?”

“Close enough. I couldn’t walk straight for like three days.”

“I bet I could make it four,” Sir said as he leered at me.

“I like him,” Kevin announced. “We should all be sex friends and go on teambuilding retreats where none of us wear clothing and we all lay on top of each other.”

“Yep,” I said. “Time to go. This has just been lovely. Justin, will you be signing any contract or having any follow up with Sir? I take it by the way you’re squeezing my hand to the point of excruciating pain, that’s a no. Sorry, Sir. Looks like the date was a bust. Next time, huh?”

“Or maybe,” Sir said slowly, “you owe me for wasting my time.” He glanced at Ryan. “He your bitch?” he asked him.

“Oh girl, that was a bad idea,” Gary muttered.

“I smash?” Tiggy growled.

“Kind of my bitch,” Ryan said.

“No shit,” Justin said.

“Ha,” Kevin said. “I knew it. That’s so hot.”

“Hey! Okay, I am, but that’s still rude. Or maybe I’m my own man, and I can speak for myself. Maybe I want to go with him.” I looked back at Sir. “I really don’t want to go with you. I’m just trying to prove a point.”

“Autonomy is very important,” Sir said. “Unless I take it from you and cover you with my semen.”

“You are the greatest man alive,” Kevin said. “Teach me all your secrets.”

“One day,” Ryan said, “we’re going to meet someone new who doesn’t want to have capture and/or have sex with you.”
           

“I never did,” Gary said. “He’s a little too stringy for my tastes. Not enough meat on dem bones, if you know what I mean. Unicorns need a little more oomph since we’re such voracious lovers.”
           

Stringy?” I gasped.

“It okay,” Tiggy said, reaching down and patting me roughly on the head. “I do you.”

“Aw. Really?”

“No.”
           

“Dammit.”

“I can’t comment on this,” Kevin said. “Given my position as his stepfather.”

“You’re not my—”

“I’d hit that so hard,” Kevin told Sir.

“This did not turn out how I thought it would,” I said.

“Does it ever?” Justin asked. “That was a legitimate question, by the way. Does anything ever turn out like you think it will?”

I nodded toward Ryan. “Locked that shit down, didn’t I?”

“Oh snap,” Tiggy said.

“Fist bump me, babe,” I said to Ryan, holding out my hand.

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that,” Ryan said.

“Watch,” Gary whispered to Tiggy. “It’ll take five to ten seconds for him to give in. I’ve been teaching Sam how to unicorn.”

I widened my eyes as much as possible and fluttered my eyelashes. “But, I want you too. For me? Please?”

Ryan sighed and fist bumped me.

“Works every time,” Gary said.

“I can hear you,” Ryan said. “You’re standing right next to me and not trying to hide the fact that you’re talking about me.”

“I thought we talked about how stalking me is wrong now that you’re in a monogamous relationship with one of my best friends,” Gary said.  “Get a grip, Ryan. This obsession you have with me is going to ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

 “You talked about that,” Ryan reminded him. “Loudly and repeatedly. Once, you woke me up at three in the morning by standing above me and breathing on my face, only to tell me to stop following you.”

 “Maybe you should listen!”
           

“You were in my room.”

  “I’ll find you true love,” I told Justin. “If it’s the last thing I do.”

  “That feels like a threat,” he said slowly.

“A threat of love,” I agreed. “Now, I think it’s time we head back to the castle. I’m famished and I’m probably going to get yelled out by four or five different people for sneaking you out to meet with a leather daddy.”

“The castle?” Sir said.

            “Oh, right,” I said. “Yeah, this is Justin, the Prince of Verania that you just tried to violate with your existence. Good job.”

“Holy shit,” he said, paling considerably “The prince? That means—” He looked from Gary to Tiggy. From Kevin to Ryan. Then back to me. “That means you’re—”

I grinned at him. “Damn right. I’m Sam of Wilds, King’s Wizard.”

“Apprentice,” Gary coughed.

“Don’t explode my nipples!” Sir said as he stood up quickly, knocking his chair back. “I didn’t know it was you!”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s still a thing? And now it’s said about me? Sweet molasses.”

“Oh boy,” Ryan sighed. “This is something I’m never going to hear the end of.”

This might have been the greatest day of my life. “Babe! Did you hear that? He said—”

“Still standing right here.”

“But—”

“Don’t need to repeat it. Heard it enough the first time.”

And that’s when Tiggy decided to smash the table. But that was okay. He’d earned it.

****

“How’d you figure out we were gone?” I asked Ryan as we walked side by side toward the castle. The others were ahead of us, Gary and Justin bickering back and forth as Kevin tried to get them to agree to a threesome, Tiggy muttering to himself about his broom collection.

 Ryan bumped his shoulder against mine. “Hadn’t seen you in ten minutes or so. I figured you were probably getting into trouble.”

Huh. That was…probably more accurate than I cared to think about. “I could have handled it.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Do you?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to have backup.” He blushed a little at that, and I struggled to not launch myself at him and potentially be arrested for lewd and lascivious conduct in the streets of the City.

“You’re my backup?”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Nah, it’s out there, dude. You can never take it back now.”

“I regret everything.”

And I doubted that quite a bit. I could see the way he was fighting a losing battle against smiling, his lips quirking, eyes crinkling. To the world, Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart was strong and brave, dashing and immaculate. And he was all those things, even to me. But he was so much more than that, more than what the people of Verania thought he was. For one, he was the world’s sappiest dork, something I never expected and would lord over him for the rest of our days.

“Come riding into my rescue,” I teased him. “Someone might think you’re a knight or something.”

“I always have to rescue you.”

“Pfft. I think you’ve got that a bit backward there.”

“Probably. But that’s okay.

 “How’d you know where we were?”

He reached up and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. My arm went around his waist and he tilted his forehead against me as we walked. “I always know where you are,” he murmured against my hair.

And my heart absolutely did not trip all over itself at that. Not at all, no sir. “Yeah, Gary was right. That does sound stalkery. You might want to curb that a little before someone gets the wrong idea that you want to put them in a hole in the basement. Pete told you, didn’t he.”

“Didn’t even hesitate when he narced on you.”
           

“That bastard. He needs to hurry up and retire so I can get away with things.”

            Ryan laughed in my ear. I didn’t think I’d ever heard a sound so wondrous.

“You guys coming, or are you going to be grossly in love some more and make everyone hate you?” Gary called back, sounding appropriately disgusted.
           

“HaveHeart for life, motherfuckers,” Tiggy said.

“We need to have a name like that,” Kevin said to Gary. “So everyone will know our love is real. Something wicked. Like…Kery. Or Gavin. Oooh. Or Dragoncorn.”

I can’t say that I was really listening to them. No, I was getting kissed within an inch of my life and thinking, Nothing can get better than this. This is my happy ending.

 

Announcement on the Future of Burn and Sequels to Withered + Sere

So, this sucks to have to write, but it's a reality I think all authors face at one point or another.

I have been so damn fortunate in that my books tend to sell really well. It's humbling and awesome that people like what I write, and I truly appreciate the position it's put me in.

However, not everything meets expectations, which can be humbling in itself. I have never thought myself better than any other MM author; in fact, I think there is room for anyone that wants to tell a story.

Bluntly: Withered + Sere and Crisped + Sere haven't sold like I expected. Therefore, there will be no more books in that series, even though the end note in C+S says there will be. It's disappointing, as I truly thought I'd built up enough trust for my readers to follow. And that, of course, is on me, not those who buy my books. You have the right to buy whatever you wish; after all, it is your hard earned money. But since this is now my sole source of income, I have make the hard decisions as to what I put my time into. W+S and C+S took two years to write, and I don't know that I can take such time again on a single work. It's rough, but it's reality. Risk sometimes yield reward; other times, it does not. Which means, for the first time, I'm going to have to weigh what I write with what will sell. And that's unfortunate, but again, reality. And it explains the lack of promotion I did for C+S, seeing as how W+S didn't sell as much as I thought it would. I tried to force myself to engage, but in my heart, I'd already written it off as a loss, and that's hard to overcome.

Along with that, it means there will be no Burn 2. The reason is that any sequel was also going to be published by Dreamspinner Press Publications (who did W+S and C+S), and again, I don't believe it would be financially successful enough for the time I put into it. I was initially sold on the idea of Dreamspinner Press Publications in that it was meant for more literature driven stories, where there would be reviews in places such as Publisher's Weekly and Library Journal, but that never happened. The books did not get promoted outside of the usual places (and THANK YOU for those that did, you guys are truly the best).

I'm sorry to those who have waited for a sequel. I didn't come to this decision lightly, nor do I do it from a place of anger or self-pity. I write for a living, which means I have to make a living doing it. Comedies sell. Werewolves sell. Kids sell. Risks sometimes do too. But sometimes they don't. And that's okay.

You lick your wounds, and then get back up and try, try, try again.

Pre-Release Thoughts on Wolfsong: Or, Why I Am an Asshole

Okay, so.

First things first:

New website! New blog!

Honestly? I have no idea what I'm doing. Those that have followed me for any length of time know that I'm not exactly...competent, when it comes to technology. So, forgive me for how shallow this is for right now, and clumsy. It's obviously still a work in progress that I'll probably be tinkering with for a long time to come. But! I am having fun with it. The navigation bar is across the top and you can see some of the stuff I've done so far, including the latest updates on where I'm at with the book I'm currently working on.

(Also, the books page is my least favorite, because so far, I've only found a way to link Amazon links on here and not DSP, and it doesn't even show the blurbs. I got so annoyed with it, that I saved it as is and said "fuck you, stupid fucking fucker." Legit. That's exactly what I said. My cat was not impressed.)

(That last sentence is slightly depressing.)

Anyway.

Remember this?

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," the Kid says, scowling at me and interrupting my epic story. He sits up in his bed, the covers falling down at his sides. "Bears don't have wings!'

"Fat with my love for you?" Otter says incredulously from his spot next to me on the Kid's bed. You made me pregnant and said I was fat with my love for you?"

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" I ask, feeling insulted. "That was getting really good!"

"If by good you mean not good, then, yes, it was getting very good," the Kid retorts.

"You made me a pregnant shifting otter!" Otter yelps

"Whatever," I say as I roll my eyes. "Mrs. Paquinn told me that shifter stories are more popular than any other subgenre and that I should try to cash in on them."

Yeah. That was pretty much how I felt about shifter books. That opening chapter of Who We Are was as close as I ever wanted to get to writing about were-otters and were-bears. Werewolves? I scoffed to myself. Not this author, no sir!

The three most popular email topics I get from readers:

1) When is (fill in the blank sequel) going to be written?

2) Thank you for writing (fill in the blank).

and

3) Tj, I really like your comedies, but when are you going to write something angsty again?

Fun fact!

I am known for my comedies. For the last year, it's pretty much all I've released. There's been some minor angst, but nothing that couldn't be chuckled away with a well placed zinger or two. The exception being, of course, Withered + Sere, which is a mind fuck of a book, but even that wasn't about angst as much as it was the low-down-dirty-grit-under-the-fingernails of a post apocalyptic world.

I am good at funny.

But, if readers are to be believed, I'm good at angst, too.

For the longest time, though, I didn't want to write anything angsty. Too much shit had gone on in my life--none of which needs to be rehashed here--that I only wanted to write happy sunshine crack.

And I did. Lightning, Normal Person, Queen. Withered + Sere and its sequel, Crisped + Sere, were 3/4th of the way finished when shit went cray-cray, so I pushed through the rest of that before going back to the feel goods.

But a funny thing happened. With those stories, I was able to build myself back up again to the point where I thought I could once again consider writing something a little more...soul crushing.

The idea was this: two boys meet when they are young. They become best friends, they grow up together, but everything seems to keep them apart: families, friends, their own stupidity, life, bad decisions, blah blah blah.

So, essentially Ty and Dom from The Art of Breathing.

I had to stop, then, because I had already told that story.

I took a step back and thought, what could I do that's different? Something I've never done before?

I really wanted to tell a story that covered a long span of time, like a decade. And I really liked the idea of childhood friends.

I said fuck it and started writing, conscious of the fact that Ty and Dom exist and not wanting to rehash the same story.

And then something weird happened.

One minute, I was happily typing along (thinking, hahaha, people are going to cry their faces off when they read this HAHAHAHA) and then I accidentally wrote a bad pun involving werewolves that really had no context and--

Tj's Brain: Okay, but what if we--

Tj: Absolutely not.

Tj's Brain: But just think about--

Tj: No. No. That's stupid. I absolutely will not.

Tj's Brain: I just won't let you forget it, then. Or that Katy Perry song you tell everyone you hate but secretly like.

Tj: Fuck you so hard.

Tj's Brain: Werewolves. And baby, you're a fiiiiiiiirework! Come on, let your colors burst--

Tj: WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. I told myself I would never do shifters!

Tj's Brain: --as you shoot across the skyyyy--wait what? Why not?

Tj: Because that's stupid. I want to write serious literature.

Tj's Brain: Wow, you sound like an asshole. Also, Gary the gay hornless unicorn exists, so any chances of you writing serious literature is pretty much gone.

Tj: Huh. Well played.

So I went back, read through the 20K or so words I'd written and saw it wouldn't be too hard to switch it up.

Then I went and researched wolves and wolf packs for a week. I told myself if I was going to do this, if I was actually going to write a shifter book, then it was going to be the best goddamn shifter book I could write.

Also, I am an asshole. Because you know what?

I wrote a book about werewolves, and I had a goddamn blast.

Yes, I am going to shred your poor little hearts with this. Ox and Joe are two of the most heartbreaking characters I've ever had the pleasure to write. They will get their happy ending, but my god, are you going to work for it. A comparison? Not as angsty as Into This River I Drown (I doubt anything I write will ever be). Maybe a little more than the BOATK series, specifically The Art of Breathing.

And while werewolves are, you know, werewolves, I went about this as seriously as I could. Because it's not just a story about werewolves. In fact, that's not even the major part. The biggest thing in this story is the idea of self worth. What happens to a person who has been told their whole life that they'll never amount to anything? How does that shape them? And, if they are already beaten down, how would they act when a great secret is bestowed upon them?

And most of all, I wanted to tell an epic love story. Because, dudes and lady dudes, I love love. I do. I really fucking do. And I wanted to show that in this story. I wanted these two boys, Ox and Joe, to grow with each other so that when familial love turns to something more, it just explodes. That it would turn into something truly magical, that anyone could see that Ox and Joe were just meant to be. With werewolf romances, there is usually the idea of mates and the like, and I do touch upon that within Wolfsong,  but I wanted it to be more than that. By the time the reader finished, I wanted them to see what I did, that there is no one else for Ox other than Joe. And that Joe would always need his Ox.

Whether or not I succeeded is up to you, of course. But I can't wait for you to read this. Because I might have started with a half-baked story about two boys growing up together that suddenly involved werewolves, but it turned into so much more than that. It's about family, and sacrifice, and what a boy named Ox could become if only he found the strength to believe in himself. It's about brothers and sisters, healing the parts that are broken, and the long reaching sins of a father. It's about standing tall, even if you're bruised and bleeding and the odds seem insurmountable.

It just also happens to have werewolves.

I can't wait for you to read it!

Pre-Order:

Dreamspinner: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/wolfsong-by-tj-klune-7158-b

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Wolfsong-TJ-Klune-ebook/dp/B01GJ0S5M4?ie=UTF8&keywords=wolfsong&qid=1465052937&ref_=sr_1_6&sr=8-6

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wolfsong-tj-klune/1123876937?ean=2940158510434

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