New Blog Location

In order to make our blogging and lfe easier, we're moving Writing In Tandem to livejournal. You can Follow it here.

Updates and Thoughts from Twitter

* 15:11 Watching Private Practice. Alexis Denisof is guest starring. I love him. He is so pretty. #
* 12:29 You know, real life can stop getting in the way of writing any time now... #

Follow our Twitter!!!

Jamie Craig Interview with Jessewave

Hi all! Long time no post. That's my bad. But to make up for it, I bring an interview. Here's our interview--read and learn something new about us, comment and have a shot at winning one of three books!

Long time no see!

Okay, so we're really bad about blogging. More like, we suck at it. The fact is, I'm lazy and inclined to focus on writing and other projects. Blogging is not a priority for me. Which means I forget about it for weeks at a time. But we have developments!

First, though I haven't remembered to post weekly updates, we've finished the novel formally referred to "Spence/Rebecca." It's called Cowboy Blues now, and we decided to query agents with it. At first we were going to submit it to Kensington directly, but honestly, I want to establish a relationship with an agent now. It's a little scary, and more than a little tempting to just sit back with be happy with the tiny little space we've carved out for ourselves. But we're capable of bigger and better things, and this is the logical next step.

We're working on the sequel to A Renaissance in Blood. It's called The Age of Retribution and we're cutting things pretty close. It was a last minute addition to the Master Chronicles series, which means it was going to be slotted into the schedule without disrupting the other two planned books. But unfortunately, Vivien has been feeling ill. On the bright side, we're a little over half-way completed. But we don't know if it'll still be released in October or pushed off to November. Once we finish The Age of Retribution, we've got to work on the final two stories for The Calendar Boys and then hopefully we can get to 10,000 Kisses. Though we still have to finish the final two books of The Master Chronicles and start our new series for 2009 Triple Sin (Six m/m/f short novels set in Las Vegas). So a lot to do, but school starts in a few weeks, which means Vivien and I should have more time to work. And I even found a job that won't take my attention away from writing!

We had a new m/m/f release this weekend. His Very Own which is just a sweet little novella with some m/m/f, m/f/m, m/f, and m/m. You can read the excerpt and blurb here.

Vivien's first gay erotic romance release!

I'm on vacation so I'm going to make this short and sweet. The very first gay erotic romance I've written all by myself came out this weekend at Amber Allure. It's called Bridge Over Troubled Water, and I went for what I've written most - vampires. I'm really happy with how it turned out, though, and it's most definitely not my last one...

Detective Brady Lindstrom deals in death, and not just because he’s a homicide cop with the slaughter of a century to solve. Ten years ago, vampires murdered his lover. Ever since, he’s looked over his shoulder, ready for vampires to strike again. Or maybe just the one he loved.

Exhausted and angry about the needless deaths he has to investigate, Brady worries that the killers he’s looking for aren’t even human. Those fears are compounded by an unexpected visitor, the battered and nearly broken Cole Singer, the lover he’d long ago given up for dead. When Cole offers to trade information on the killers in exchange for sanctuary, Brady realizes he doesn’t have a choice. He just can’t turn his back on the face of the only man he’s ever loved. Even if he’s a vampire...

And now for an excerpt not seen anywhere else...

They remained quiet as Brady shot down the road. He kept alert, checking all his mirrors repeatedly, watching for any sign that they were being followed. Only when he was completely sure they weren't did he angle toward the highway.

He glanced across to the other seat. Cole was out cold. No wonder it had been so quiet.

Brady had a whole shopping list of questions he wanted to ask, questions about who the vampires were, how Cole knew them. They would have to wait. Rather than torture himself with the unknown, he focused on the road and getting home as quickly and safely as possible. None of it would make a difference if they didn't make it.

He parked illegally in the handicapped spot nearest his house. Cole hadn't moved or made a sound for the entire journey, and blood had soaked through into Brady's car seat. Brady took his coat off and threw it over Cole's shoulders, hefting him out with an arm around his waist. He kicked the door shut and took the shortest path possible to his front door.

Inside, he was at a momentary loss as to what to do with him. Cole was a mess; he needed to be cleaned up. Bathroom then, he decided grimly. Blood trailed slightly over the carpet, but that was something else Brady ignored. He couldn't do anything about it anyway.

Leaving Cole slumped in the tub, he hurried back and moved his car, his gaze jumping from shadow to shadow the entire time. His exhalation when he finally locked his apartment door behind him was as much relief as it was weariness. Nobody had followed him. They would be safe. He'd get Cole taken care of, then call in to Webster and see what steps were being taken, what Brady could do next.

He came to a dead halt in the bathroom doorway. An unconscious Cole couldn't bathe himself. He couldn't even undress himself. But Brady couldn't do anything about bandaging him up while he was such a mess.

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he stripped out of his shoes and shirt before kneeling at the side of the tub. The bloodstained gauze he'd taped over the injuries was a wreck, unusable. So was the shirt he'd given to Cole. Keeping his gaze from the worst of the injuries, he scooped an arm behind Cole's back in order to pull the shirt over his head.

He froze. Scars mottled Cole's shoulder blades. Skinny, thick, long, short. Most were white with age, but there were a couple still pink from newness. There were even a few puncture marks. Fangs. Unmistakably.

He wished Cole was awake. He wanted to know what the hell had happened to him. If this had something to do with the pair at the frat house.

Somehow, he got the rest of Cole's clothes off, and still, Cole wasn't moving. Brady sat back on his heels and debated his options. A bath was out of the question. Cole might not drown, but...he couldn't do it. A shower? There was still the question of how he'd get clean. Brady could do it, but he'd get wet.

For the first time since putting him in the tub, he looked at Cole's face.

The smooth skin. Bruises blued one side of his jaw.

The dark lashes. Cole could have been sleeping.

That mouth. Blood had dried at the corner where his lower lip split. Brady reached forward and rubbed it gently away.

He's a vampire.

He's hurt.

He deserved it.

He saved my life.

Brady scrubbed at his face, wishing at least one of the little voices in his head would shut the other one up. The scent of Cole's blood clinging to his fingers settled his decision.

He undressed in record time. Angling the showerhead so that it hit farther down Cole's body, he started the water, deliberately opting for as hot a temperature as he could stand. It was harder to slide into the tub with Cole already in it; it wasn't exactly built for two. But Cole had always been narrower than him, and by spreading his legs farther apart, Brady slipped Cole carefully in between them, leaning him back against his chest.

He immediately closed his eyes and shuddered. Memories like sharp glass rained down on him, too many to avoid getting cut. Falling asleep on the couch with Cole stretched out on top of him, watching TV. Clinging to Cole after his father's funeral, when everyone had already left, when the only thing that made sense was having Cole in his embrace.

His arms stole around Cole's body, holding him even closer. Resting his head against Cole's, Brady ran his hands up and down over the lean body he'd once known so well, tenderly, gently, washing away the blood that marred its pale perfection. His fingertips barely touched the rough edges of the cuts; he didn't want the moment ruined by more of the reality he loathed so much.

It wouldn't hurt to pretend. Not for a few minutes. Pretend Cole had never died. Pretend that they were together, that everything was fine, that there was nothing to mourn except the loss of their youth.

The water stung where it pelted against his skin, but Brady welcomed it. It made him feel alive. The heat soaked into Cole's flesh, too, which just made it easier to pretend. Except then he remembered that he was pretending, that none of this was real, that Cole rested ravaged in his arms and would never be that innocent, carefree young man no matter how much Brady wanted him back, and the loss hit him all over again.

The sob caught in his throat. He felt like he was choking.

Maybe if he just held him a little bit tighter...

Another New Release! Time In a Bottle

Vivien selected the title Time In a Bottle when we signed up for this pax, and honestly, we struggled for an idea. We struggled a lot. I don't even remember exactly who struck on the idea of setting it at a music festival and featuring the romance between two musicians--opposites in every way. I might have, but Vivien threw herself into it enthusiastically and Wendy and Macaulay were born (and we fell in love with them).

Opposites in temperament, success, and genre, two artists find they literally make beautiful music together...

The Hoolabaloo Musical Festival is one of the summer’s biggest events, but country artist Macaulay Jensen isn’t there for the much-needed career exposure. He’s there to see one woman—rock and roll superstar Wendy DeMartino. Beautiful, wild, and wildly successful, Wendy is out of his league. So Macaulay is shocked when she agrees to an after-concert date.

Wendy has always been attracted to Macaulay, and she’s thrilled when he asks her out on a date. But the reality of their lives is too pressing to ignore, and the most she hopes for is one perfect day...

Genres: Contemporary / The Arts / Exhibitionism / Public Places
Heat Level: 2
Length: Novella (24k words)

And now a never before seen excerpt.

“I need to write that down,” she said when the last note faded away. Twisting, she grabbed her notebook from the table and flipped past page after page of scribbled music and lyrics. “Maybe we should call that one ‘Ten Thousand Kisses’.”

Macaulay nodded. “I like that a lot. It’d be great to perform it live. If we ever end up in the same venue and the same city at the same time.”

Her pen paused in its scratching. “You know, you say it like that, and I start to think we need to steal the bus and not look back.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…frustrating because there was a time, not too long ago, when I could have just shifted directions and followed you across the country.” Macaulay shook his head. “And that sounds really creepy.”

“Not any creepier than me wishing I could do the same.”

“You’d think, being musicians and all, we’d be better at timing.”

She grinned and resumed her writing. “You’d think.”

Macaulay drew his thumbs over the strings. “What would be good timing for you?”

Wendy didn’t respond until after she closed her notebook and set it aside. “Remember that sense of being trapped? It’s because there’s no end in sight. Today’s probably going to be it for awhile.”

“Yeah. I thought that might be the answer.” Macaulay couldn’t hide his disappointment, though he wasn’t in the least bit surprised. They both had to work hard for what they had. He needed to work hard to get a bit of success, and she needed to work twice as much to sustain it. “I guess something like this was bound to happen with my lifestyle. I finally find a girl I really like, and she’s the one
girl who doesn’t have the time.”

Her hand settled over his, stopping his playing. “Don’t think it’s because I don’t want it. I do. It’s just…”

Macaulay met her gaze, stunned, as always, by the vivid color of her eyes. “I know. I understand. Believe me, I understand. It’s not like I’ve got the time, either.” He leaned over, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “But we do have time right now to finish this great song. And after today….well, we can work something out.”

“And we have tonight.” She smiled, pure mischief. “I can sleep on the bus tomorrow. We can have hours and hours, just the two of us.”

His groin tightened at the promise in her words. Normally, he would not sleep with a girl he liked on the first date. But it felt like this relationship needed to be accelerated. They had an awful lot to fit into one day, even if Wendy claimed they had hours and hours.

“And Jill can’t up and leave if she can’t find me.” He couldn’t resist the urge to run his thumb over her full, bottom lip. He leaned back before he was tempted to do more, and settled his guitar more firmly on his leg. “Do you want to take it from the top?”

Her gaze raked deliberately down his body, her head tilting in order to peer around the obstruction in his lap. “Well, I’m more interested in your bottom, but I guess we have to start somewhere.” Grabbing her guitar, she started playing the melody she had picked out earlier, waiting until he joined in before adding, “So if we’re going with that title, does that mean the lyrics should focus on what one lover wants from another?”

“I think so. Do you want it to be a duet?”

New Release Day! Calender Boys--July: Vintage

This month we're releasing Vintage. I wanted to write a story about two older gentlemen--silver foxes, if you will. Because, let's face it, older gentlemen are hot. Just take a look at Patrick Stewart if you don't believe me.

Friends or lovers—or is it possible to be both?

For more than a decade, renowned chef Alain Tiessart has been married to his restaurant, driven to make it one of the finest in Paris. But time is slipping away. Lonely and ready for a change, he packs up his bags on one of the busiest holiday weekends of the year and drives into the French countryside.

Retired Brit Simon Hastings is prepared to spend Bastille Day as he always does—quietly and alone. When his oldest friend Alain arrives on his doorstep prepared to spend the next few days together, Simon is surprised but welcomes him in. He’s even more surprised when Alain suggests they move their relationship to a deeper one. Unwilling to jeopardize their friendship, Simon turns him down, a decision Alain accepts gracefully...

Until a friendly bet and an eager young man cast Alain in a new light. Now, Simon doesn’t know what he wants.

Or who...

Genres: Gay / Contemporary / Ménage (M/M/M) / Group Sex / Multicultural / Series
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (25k words)

And a never before seen excerpt

“No, I’m sure it won’t be. You’ll be utterly charmed by the shops. This is why I always walk to the village. Then I won’t be tempted to bring home more than I can carry.”

“Except now you have me to carry things for you.”

Simon smiled at him. “No, I’ll probably end up carrying things for you. Which is fine with me. I don’t mind being your faithful servant.”

“You say that now. But will you say as much if I ask for other sundries during my stay?”

“It depends on the other sundries, I suppose.”

Something about his tone made Alain pause. They hadn’t discussed the events of the previous night, even after they had occurred. Once the matter had been dropped, that was it. Now, he wondered if he was wrong to ignore it, but until Simon did or said something a tad more overt, he would remain wary of ruining what was already the best relationship he had.

“Oh, I wouldn’t ask anything I wouldn’t be more than happy to do in kind,” Alain teased. “Though Claude will likely tell you I’m a slave driver, so perhaps saying you’ll be my servant isn’t in your best interest.” He smiled and winked. “Even if it
is in mine.”

“I’ve seen the way you treat poor Claude. He’s right to call you a slave driver. But I don’t think you’d be quite so hard on me. For one thing, I suspect you like me more than you like Claude.”

Alain roared with laughter. “This is true. I can honestly say I’ve never propositioned Claude, or even entertained the thought. It would be like fucking one of those Ewoks.” He chortled at the image. “Those big eyes staring at me? I’d have to bend him over to even consider it.”

Simon snorted. “Well, thank you for introducing the image of you fucking an Ewok. That’s the sort of thing that could haunt my nightmares.”

“Then we’ll both be haunted. And I thoroughly blame you for it. You’re the one who put the thought in my head.”

“I wouldn’t have mentioned anything if I knew you were going to bring up Ewoks. And now the next time I go to Paris, I won’t be able to look at Claude without laughing.”

Alain waved it off. “Half of Paris already can’t look at Claude without laughing.
That’s why I keep him in the kitchen. Lucky for me, he’s a fantastic cook.”

“Have you ever propositioned any of your cooks? The ones who didn’t look like Ewoks?”

“Cooks? No. Waiters? Yes. Once.” Better to be honest. Simon would know if he was lying. “But in my defense, the boy wore pants to work that were painted on. A monk wouldn’t have been able to resist his cock.”

“And nobody’s ever confused you with a monk,” Simon said dryly.

“Exactly. I’m a man of carnal pleasures. Anyone who’s eaten at Rêver should know that.”

“True. The first meal I ever had at Rêver was the first one I could ever describe as truly sensual. I think that’s why I wanted to meet you.”

A car rumbled behind them, driving them off the road and onto the edge, out of its way in order for it to pass. Alain’s arm brushed against Simon’s, his skin firm and warm, and his body reacted automatically. He gritted his teeth. Did Simon even know what he did to a man? Did he have any idea just how appealing he really was?

“Lucky for me, you’re a man who can appreciate the truly sensual then. Which only proves my point. You wouldn’t have been able to resist Gilles either.”

“I might have been able to. I have excellent self-control if I have the proper motivation.”

His words from the night before drifted back, but Alain resisted the urge to remind Simon of them. No point in firming his resolve in that matter. In fact…

“How about a wager on that?”

Simon’s regular stride faltered for a moment, and then he was walking at the normal pace again. “What sort of wager?”

“I’ll find the most irresistible young man I can. Here or in one of the larger towns, perhaps. If you manage to resist him, I’ll cook every meal for you until I leave. And you’ll never have to pay for another meal at Rêver again. Is that motivation enough?”

“What if I can’t resist him?”

He hadn’t considered that. Simon seemed too proud of his restraint. “Then…” His mouth curved. “You promise to share him with me.”

And we already got a review from the lovely Elisa Rolle

The story is very interesting: two almost fifty years old friends who finally have the courage to admit that, if for so many years they manage to stay friends, when all the other men in their life disappear, maybe is since they have something more than friendship between them. But two "old" wolves are hard to lose their vices... Even if Simon seems the more steady and quite of the two, he is also a little grumpy, he is content with his quite country life and above all he fears to lose the only real friend he has: love could be a fleeting feeling, instead their friendship is very strong. But Alain has had a lot of time to re-think his life and he is sure that Simon is the right man for him, and his seductive powers are very good.

A very good story which manage to rebuild the right atmosphere of the lazy and wealthy life of a retired English business man in the lustful French countryside; it seems like you can savor the wines and the good foods Alain used to vow Simon, and you can also smell the flavor of their relationship; the setting is idyllic and the two characters really original.