Sid Love is Coming to Dreamspinner Press!

Sid Love of blogging faHoldingontoHopeFSme has joined the author ranks of Dreamspinner Press. I am excited to announce the upcoming release of his book! I wish you the best of luck, Sid and may you have great success!

Holding on to Hope
Sid Love
Coming February 14, 2014

Dreamspinner Press
68 Pages
Cover Artist: Paul Richmond

BLURB: Bradley Parker has waited twenty years for Mr. Right, and on Valentine’s Day, he finally finds him. It’s love at first sight, and Brad even loses his virginity to the man of his dreams. But when he wakes up the next morning unable to remember anything—even what the man looked like—his best friend, Leslie, is convinced he imagined the whole thing. Brad knows he didn’t make up the best night of his life, but he has no idea of the danger he’s putting himself in as he struggles to recall the details of his perfect man. His search may lead him to parts of New York City he never dreamed existed and a war being waged in the shadows.

PRE ORDER LINK: Holding on to Hope

Sid Love grew up in one of busiest cities in the world, Mumbai, listening to the excerpts of Indian epics from his father every night. While it served as an inspiration back in time, he has always had an ambitious mind. In 2007, when he had just turned sixteen, he decided that he would make his lifelong dream come true—to become a well-known, respected author some day.

Ask him and he would refuse to accept that he is obsessed with books. Or movies. Or TV shows. Addicted may even be the right word. He is a die-hard fan of Jane Austen’s romance novels and loves to reread them time and again.

You can find him on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sid.love.16?ref=tn_tnmn or tweet him anytime: https://twitter.com/FatefulMercy, or simply e-mail him at sidlovethewriter@live.in.

Eric Update from TJ

TJ Writes: Eric spoke today. It was only for a little bit, and it was a rasp, but he spoke. I cried all over myself in the hallway at work. Then the good people at his new hospital helped him sit up from the bed and put his feet out on a stool for about ten minutes. It’s the first time he’s been able to do that since this started. It tired him out, but there were no other issues other than he couldn’t do it on his own. Not yet.

I motherfucking believe. You can count on that.

Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.

Good News: Eric Update

1470362_263238180496034_20054493_nTJ Writes: I know I said I needed to take a break and maybe I do, but I couldn’t just leave it sounding so down.

In one day, this new hospital has done more for Eric than the previous hospital did in the entire two weeks. They are giving us HOPE. They are talking to him directly, treating him like a goddamn human being. He has already been seen by doctors and therapists and anyone else that can find some way to help him. They plan on having him up and in a wheelchair as soon as possible to get him used to being upright again.

And the best part? His left foot moved. HE WAS MOVING HIS LEFT FOOT. Not a fucking nerve reaction. Not a fucking glitch. He was MOVING HIS LEFT FOOT.

Some of these days are hard. Some of them are dark. But then some days, like today, I am filled with so much hope that I am about to burst. It sucks that he is so far away, but FUCK that previous hospital. Fuck them for trying to take our hope away. We may not get back to where we were, but it’s not going to be because we haven’t fought for it.

Let’s GO, let’s GO, let’s GO!!

Three Things You Probably Don’t Know About ZA Maxfield and a GIVEAWAY!

(From Rhys: The fantastic ZA Maxfield is here today and she’s bringing all sorts of goodies with her!)

Three Things You Probably Don’t Know About ZAM

Which ZAM story was the hardest to write:
The hardest thing I ever wrote was a short story called Jumping Off Places. I wrote it for an anthology called Because of the Brave, which featured authors Josh Lanyon and Laura Baumbach as well. (The timing was terrible, but I wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to be between the covers with my IDOLS.) Due to my schedule that year I had to write the story the week after my mother passed away unexpectedly. My thinking was this: there was never ever going to be a better time to write about a character losing his mother because all those really visceral emotions and images were available to me, right then.

What I didn’t realize was I was fairly numb when I wrote it but when I went to go through the edits, it all came back—whoosh—and I was no longer protected by the shock. I probably wouldn’t do that again.

I wish I could be in a band with my author pals!
I’d want Rhys Ford on vocals (and to write the music) because she just seems perfect for the job! Belinda McBride and I would sing backup and shake tambourines dressed like Stevie Nicks. I’d put Damon Suede on drums, because he kind of reminds me of Animal from the Muppets. (Only kind of, but it’s there.) And on Guitars, Hmmm…Devon Rhodes and TA Chase because they work together so well and of course, they’d bring all that beauty, charm and humor to the party! Imagine me tumbling out of a smoky tour bus with that lot…

If one of your titles could be made into a movie, which would it be?
Crossing Borders, starring Shaun White at nineteen! Which actor should play Michael? Rhys, I think we should have people comment and see who comes up with the best actor for the job. Ebook goes to winner!

Thanks for letting me be here today, Rhys. I’m waiting on Dirty Deeds…my fingers are itching I want it so bad!

Each post I create for the My Cowboy Heart Blog tour will have the following items in common, cover, blurb, links, and contest. To add these elements easily, please copy and paste the following into the blog text editor:

My Heartache Cowboy
(Cowboy Series, Bk #2)
By Z.A. Maxfield
Blurb:

Can love conquer all?

Jimmy Rafferty and Eddie Molina go way back at the J-Bar ranch. They’ve worked together, bunked together, camped out, and drank together. So how has Jimmy failed to notice that Eddie is gay? Eddie has not failed to notice that his friend has a serious drinking problem, and he’s determined to help Jimmy kick the booze cold turkey.

Taking him up to a snowbound cabin to detox, Eddie is confronted with Jimmy’s fierce denial. But the pains of withdrawal are nothing for Jimmy compared with the heartache of denying his true feelings and his deep longing…for the one man who cares for him more than anyone else on earth.

Available for purchase at
Excerpt

When I woke, I was alone and the truck wasn’t moving.

Who the hell did Eddie think he was, leaving me asleep by myself in a truck outside in the freezing cold? My pa and my older brother, Jonas, used to do that. We’d be on the road, and when I fell asleep, they’d leave me in the parking lot of some dive bar or motel—just leave me asleep outside in the dark. I’d wake up with no clue where I was, no idea if they were coming back or if I should go in and try to find them.

My first useful thought was to look for the keys, because I hadn’t forgotten what Eddie said. I hadn’t forgotten the plans him and boss Malloy made for me behind my back. It would serve them right if I up and hightailed it back to the J-Bar with Eddie’s truck and no Eddie.

No keys.

Not like that was going to stop me. Where the hell did Eddie get the idea I’d go quietly? I slid over and tore the wiring out from under the dash. Found what I needed without hardly even looking.

I hated waking up alone like that. Unwanted. Abandoned.

One twist. Two. Touch the wires together and the engine should . . .

Fuck.

Nothing.

What the hell? I checked I got the proper color-coated strands and tried again. I was frowning down at the mess of tangled wire when someone tapped on the window behind me.

I glanced up and saw Eddie frowning down, no doubt pissed at what I’d done to his truck. Serves you right for leaving me like that, you prick.

“You need a working engine for that,” he told me as he opened the door. “One that has a battery.”

“Fuck you.” I spilled out of the car ready for a fistfight.

“What?” Eddie jumped back.

“Why did you have to leave me like that? What did I ever do to you?”

Eddie shook his head at me. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. You were sound asleep and I thought maybe you needed it.”

I took a swing at him. “I hate waking up alone in a car like that.”

Ed plucked my fist from the air and peered at me like he was trying to see through my skin. “I didn’t know.”

“I hate that. Left behind in the car like a damn dog. Like a fucking duffel bag. You can’t be bothered to even wake me up and take me in out of the fucking snow.”

Now Eddie frowned like he was thinking about it. Now, after the fact. “I’m sorry, Jimmy. I didn’t think how you’d feel waking up alone like that. I won’t do it again.”

“Would have served you right if I took your truck and left you up here to walk back to civilization, wherever the hell that is. Would have served you right if I’d died out here.”

“All right, all right. Simmer down now.”

I glared at him. “Fuck you.”

“It’s pretty civilized inside. How about you come in with me.”

“How about you suck my fucking—”

“That’s enough.” He turned and headed toward the cabin’s welcoming front door. “I almost didn’t bother to disable the damn thing, but I thought on the off chance you knew what you were doing and could—”

“Which I did,” I pointed out.

“Come inside.” He jerked his chin toward the cabin like I was a dog and I was supposed to just follow along and yip around at his heels.

I debated making a run at him, but frankly, Eddie was a tough buzzard. He wasn’t too much older than me, just forty-two compared to my thirty-eight. But I was a lover, not a fighter, or at least that’s how I thought of myself. Back there on the road, Eddie had proved he wasn’t above using violence to get his way in this, so I went along.

You’re going to have to sleep sometime.

Eddie led me into a rustic-looking cabin that seemed awful nice for the middle of nowhere. There was a place for us to hang our hats just inside the door, over a table with a passel of pictures on it. There were old time black-and-whites of families and framed pictures of a good-looking man, a pretty woman, and some kids. There were some of the kids alone, and holy cow, there were probably a dozen pictures of Ed. He looked so young in a couple of them, they must have been from before we met.

One of Ed and the unknown man caught my eye. Something about the difference in height, the casual way they leaned together, the way they looked at each other, made me think this was Ed’s friend from the road, Don. Even though they’d both aged some since it was taken, I was almost sure of it.

No knobby hands, no weathered angel, this Don was good looking, without a doubt. He was lanky and chiseled. He had an intelligent face and a smile that drew the eye. He seemed sure of himself and charming. Whatever I’d seen in the darkness outside the car had to be a trick of the light.

Ed looked so young and earnest next to him it took my breath away. Brawny and tan, he wore a yoked Western shirt with the sleeves rolled up past well-muscled forearms and he eyed Don like he would follow him anywhere.

And that Don, he looked like he could appreciate a guy like Ed, as well.

Hadn’t I seen firsthand how much he did appreciate him?

About the Author

Z. A. Maxfield started writing in 2007 on a dare from her children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized, and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. Three things reverberate throughout all her stories: Unconditional love, redemption, and the belief that miracles happen when we least expect them. If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four can find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you give up housework.”

You can find ZA Maxfield at

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Clockwork Tangerine Now Available for Preorder

Clockwork TangerineLook just went up for preorder on Dreamspinner! Link to Clockwork Tangerine.

Clockwork Tangerine, a steampunk novella by Rhys Ford

The British Empire reigns supreme, and its young Queen Victoria has expanded her realm to St. Francisco, a bustling city of English lords and Chinese ghettos. St. Francisco is a jewel in the Empire’s crown and as deeply embroiled in the conflict between the Arcane and Science as its sister city, London—a very dark and dangerous battle.

Marcus Stenhill, Viscount of Westwood, stumbles upon that darkness when he encounters a pack of young bloods beating a man senseless. Westwood’s duty and honor demand he save the man, but he’s taken aback to discover the man is Robin Harris, a handsome young inventor indirectly responsible for the death of Marcus’s father.

Living in the shadows following a failed coup, Robin devotes his life to easing others’ pain, even though his creations are considered mechanical abominations of magicks and science. Branded a deviant and a murderer, Robin expects the viscount to run as far as he can—and is amazed when Marcus reaches for him instead.