(Early) Tuesday Tickle: Bite Me

The Dirty Birds had a scheduling conflict, so the first post on our new book Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, by Renni Browne, will begin tomorrow.

In the meantime, have a bit of young Glyn. I don’t know if this will make it into the book. still struggling through PTSD and not always making good choices, but this part’s a bit of a laugh, so I thought I’d share it.


“Get where, Gram? Are you kicking me out?” This would be the third time his family had dumped him on someone else.



“You’re going to Yale. Glynnie, you never go anywhere, you little house-mouse. No, you need to see the world. I’ve booked plane tickets since you don’t like travelling Underhill, and we’ll find you a house or an apartment or a swinging bachelor pad—whatever you want.”



“But, Gram…” He knew it. He’d gone too far with the C4 last week. Still, he could hardly regret it; it had been a glorious explosion, and one exterior wall had been small recompense for the spell Geneth had put on him the week before. Glyn still fought the urge to fall to his knees and bow every time his cousin came around—part of why he was hiding in the tree this afternoon.


Tuesday Tickle: Bite Me

I sent this to the Editor in Question the other day, as we were batting around ideas for lightening the mood in the second part of Bite Me. We’re heading for 90K now. *shakes head*

Glyn licked the last of the grease off his fingers and wondered when the hell KFC had become an option for supper. For that matter, eating on the couch, with his head in Levi’s lap, instead of at the perfectly good dining table he owned. He tipped his head back to look up at Levi, happily devouring another deep-fried heart attack disguised as chicken.

It was tasty, though. Still, he needed to do something to derail this descent into trailer park living. “Where’s the laptop?”

Levi swallowed, and said, “Kitchen, I think.”

Glyn thought about it for a moment, but he was far too comfortable here. “What about my phone?”

“Side table. You want it?”

“I’ll get it. Your hands are greasy.”

“And yours aren’t?”

“But they’re my hands.” Shamelessly, he crawled across Levi’s lap, hanging over the arm of the couch to poke at the phone. Out of habit, and because it was fun and he was part witch, he pressed himself against Levi’s thigh harder than was truly necessary.

Levi tossed a stripped bone into the box on the coffee table and grabbed Glyn’s ass with both hands. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Glyn jumped. “Fido, I hope you wiped your hands before you did that. That’s virgin wool.” Glyn craned his neck in an attempt to assess the damage.

“Not anymore.” Levi cocked his head to one side, very much in the manner of his wolf, and eyed Glyn’s ass speculatively. “I suppose I could lick it off.” He squeezed the muscle and grinned.

“Be my guest,” Glyn said as he turned back to the phone. The Times had a section on what was playing at the theatre. It had been a while since he’d gone anywhere except work and home. “Ouch, Fido. Fewer teeth please. I have to sit on that later.”

Still a few tweaks to tweak, but very much the fun side of Glyn. 😀

House of Manlove Fourth of July Flash Fiction

Fourth of July flsh eventPop over to Inlinks to catch all the links to all the stories! I went literal with the concept of Summer Madness, by the way, instead of writing a summer fling. But when witches are involved, it’s all madness. 🙂


Glyn turned from wiping up the countertop and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Gram!” After silence for half a year, he’d been sure he’d been cast off. But here she was, and it lifted a weight from his heart he hadn’t entirely acknowledged.

“Hello, Glynnie.” She stood in the doorway of his and Levi’s new kitchen, like a beam of sunshine transplanted indoors. “You moved.”

He smiled and hung the cloth over the handle on the oven door. ‘“I did.” Edges lined up just so, the middle row of checks exactly in the center of the handle. The more structured his environment, the less his craziness tried to break free of the bonds he placed on it. As the pattern of the cloth aligned, Glyn’s witchblood settled back into his new normal—slightly agitated and precariously balanced between sanity and witchiness.

“It seems rather…plain. Do you need money?”

“I’m fine, Gram. We only finished building a couple of weeks ago. I’m still decorating.”

“You may call on the coven at need. For anything.”

The tone of her voice raised his hackles. “I’m telling the truth.” He spun to face her, only to be brought up short by the look on her face.

She lifted his chin with one hand, examining his face, his expression. A faint tingle raced over his skin as she read his energy. “You didn’t do it.”

“I would have. I was going to.” Glyn looked away. He’d been willing to trade his free will for Levi.

She frowned, her eyes darkening from spring leaf to summer moss. “What changed your mind?”

“I didn’t.” An unaccustomed flush rose in his cheeks.

“Then what happened?”

“Levi poured it out.” Glyn had been willing, but Levi hadn’t.

Her eyes widened. “He did? So he does love you.”

“Of course he does. He wouldn’t put up with my shit if he didn’t.” She still hadn’t explained why she’d come in person.“Gram, you could have seen this just looking back. Why did you come here to ask me?”

“Oh, Glynnie. I love you. Of all my grandchildren, you’re my favorite.” She glanced away, and a rare glimmer of discomfort flickered across her face. “I should have come earlier, but I didn’t want to see you like that. No witch should live in such a fashion, bound in faerie chaine.” Her gaze met his again. “Even to someone who loves them.”

“He wouldn’t have hurt me.”

She stroked his cheek again. “You were always such a trusting child.”

Glyn rolled his eyes, an old habit he thought he’d given up years ago. “Gram.”

Her eyes danced, and she smiled at him with a witch’s smile, wild as the north wind and careless as the south. “Well, that doesn’t matter anymore. I think we should celebrate.”

Shit. “No, it’s okay—” But it was already too late. Her blood called to him, and his gleefully slipped its bonds, rising to join its voice to hers.

* * * *

Levi closed the truck door and reached in the back to grab the picnic basket he’d picked up for cheap on the way home. He’d started swinging by yard sales whenever he saw one—it helped with the limited decorating budget. Glyn never said a word, but the man had lived in a Central Park condo. Levi knew in his bones what a come-down their current situation was. New house or not.

As he got closer to the front door, he heard the rapid beat of a drum. Not rock music, which wasn’t Glyn’s style anyway, but something more exotic. Maybe African? Had the stubborn witch finally given in and spent money on something that wasn’t absolutely essential? The thought brought a smile to Levi’s lips as he walked through the door.

His excited greeting died half-formed at the kitchen door. The first thing he saw was Glyn, stark naked and laughing hard enough tears streamed down his cheeks. The walls were covered in something that looked like hieroglyphics, the same color as the paint splashed so decoratively over Glyn’s body.

The next thing he noticed was a willowy blonde, sitting on the floor with her back against the refrigerator, a set of bongos cradled within the nest of her crossed legs. She reminded him of Glyn, something in the graceful lines of her body and the way she moved as she tapped the surface of the drums.

A chair danced by, smacking his ankle sharply as it pirouetted in front of him, before galloping across the room to dart underneath the table. A table which stomped ponderously around the edges of the room like a near-sighted elephant with gout.

“Levi!” Glyn whooped in delight and spun over to him. His eyes practically glowed, and an eerie not-quite-human aura surrounded him. “My grandmother is here! Come dance.” He laughed madly and led Levi into the center of the room, singing off-key in some language that wasn’t English or Spanish.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re celebrating!” He hooked his arms around Levi’s neck and practically swung off him. “Somebody’s overdressed.” He let go of Levi and attacked the buttons of his workshirt.

Levi fended him off and looked at the woman. “And you are?”

“I just told you—that’s Gram.” Glyn struggled against Levi’s grip. “Oh, are we playing?” He laughed, and now that he was listening for it, Levi could hear something else in his voice. Magic, maybe? He’d heard Glyn go witchy before in a bad way, but he’d never heard him happy and drunk on power. His lover was normally locked down so tight.

Levi thought he could grow to like this side of Glyn.

“So this is the man my grandson loves.” The blonde—how could she be Glyn’s grandmother?—threw her arms around the two of them and made all three sway in time to the bongos, which played themselves on the floor at their feet.

She smelled like Glyn, a wildness like the call of the forest at full moon. He wasn’t particularly interested in women, but even so, his body reacted to her.

“He looks good in clothes, Glyn. What does he look like out of them?” she said.

Levi jumped back as she started tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “Glyn!” he protested.

Glyn laughed and kissed him. “Gram, mine!” Glyn pushed her hands away, only to replace them with his own.

She reached again for Levi’s clothing, giggling as she did. Glyn shoved Levi behind him and grappled playfully with her. Her laugh was joyful and happy and felt like a warm summer night with pack all around. It was like Glyn, a hundred times over.

But he’d be damned if he was going to let her undress him.

Glyn appeared to have the same idea. He shoved gently at the blonde and chivvied her toward the door. “Goodbye, Gram. You’ve seen him. Now it’s time to leave.”

“Such a greedy child.”

“Blood tells. Bye, Gram.”

Her laugh floated down the hall, the door slammed, and they were alone.

Glyn came back into the kitchen. “Celebrate,” he said and jumped on Levi.

Levi kissed him. “Celebrate. And tomorrow we can clean the paint off the walls.”

Aaand…We're Done!

happy-dance-animated-gif-1Finished out at 79, 400 words. It probably won’t stop there, but it was a whopper of a story. It’s entirely possible we may cut some chapters before we’re done, but that will have to wait for editorial comment.

In the meantime, I’m feeling a bit at loose ends. I shouldn’t feel like I still owe words, because I wrote 3000 today alone, went through the manuscript twice, and completely rewrote the ending. But I do. I guess because I’ve never shut down LSB before 10 pm in a long time.

I think, for tonight, I shall have a bath, read a book, and play a bunch of Tapped Out. I’m grinding for cash and Stonecutter emblems. Woohoo!

Tuesday Tickle: Bite Me Later

Back to near the beginning of the story. I should be turning this in by the end of the month. I added another chapter today, so we’re at 22 now, and looking to finish out at something close to 72 or 73 K. Which, as anyone who knows me can tell you, probably means that the final manuscript will be closer to 80K.

Every time I touch these things, they get longer. (Go ahead and giggle. I did. 🙂 )

So, after the bite, before the ‘everything else’:

Trevor followed Zachary’s orders to the word. There were never any fewer than four people in the cabin with Levi, and he was never left alone, even in the bathroom. He was fed, often, and sent to bed whenever he showed an inclination to roam.

“Rest. You’ll need your strength,” they told him, over and over.

“I’m fine,” he’d growl. At first, they’d just laugh at him and manhandle him to wherever they wanted him. By noon the next day, the laughter had mostly stopped, and by late afternoon, they’d taken to shooting questioning glances at each other every time they redirected him.

By the way, probably the last one for this book. Gotta keep something for later, right? 😀