I'm so excited that Iyana Jenna is here today to talk a little bit about her new book, A Single Black Rose. Please welcome her and make sure you enter the giveaway at the end of the post!
My new novella was released on
November 17, 2013, from JMS Books. My story, A Single Black Rose, is the longest release from me so far and I’m
very excited about it!
Please don’t forget that your
readers can win some prizes. Just enter the Rafflecopter below.
Like I said before, this story is
the longest being published so far. There will be a slightly longer story to be
released in February 2014 but it’s also a novella. Sometimes I wonder why I
don’t write longer pieces like other writers that I admire that seem to have no
problem whatsoever producing one full novel after another. I think I know the
answers. Let me see.
1.
Developing plots
I tend to write snippets of stories. Even if it’s a
longer story, it’s just still a more elaborate fragment of the lives of the
characters I write. I blame it on my ability to develop a plot and things I
want to write. Perhaps I have to loosen my mind and let it wander freely anywhere
it wants to go. I shouldn’t have restricted it. Plots have sub-plots, and
sub-plots have sub-sub-plots.
2.
Patience
One of the things that keep me from having longer pieces
is my patience. I seem to always want to finish my stories as fast as I can. I
paid the price by having publishers and reviewers tell me that my stories could
have been fleshed out more. This has something to do with my endurance to write
longer stories, too. Writing a 30K story, although I managed to do it in the
past, is hard work for me. I really had to be very determined about it.
3.
Slow writing
It’s going to sound as if I were looking for excuses but
I promise it’s true. My RL work, teaching, and my language barrier keep me from
writing faster. This is probably the hardest problem I have. I need to focus
more and make use of every spare minute I have to write. The Internet is
certainly not helping! LOL.
I know it’s not easy to follow my
own advice as elaborated above. Let’s say those are my resolutions for next
year. I will promise I will try my best.
A Single Black Rose
Blurb:
When actor Sean O’Reilly receives a
flower bouquet containing a single black rose on set, he assumes they’re from
his boyfriend Nate. But they aren’t. Flowers keep arriving for him after that,
each with a black rose in the arrangement. Soon other things arrive as well,
such as photos and a recording of Sean’s voice. As the number of flowers
dwindle with each bouquet, Sean begins to worry they’re supposed to be some kind
of a countdown ... but to what?
Fan Gene Scott worships Sean. He maintains a blog dedicated to the actor and writes out all his fantasies there. He wants Sean to belong to him, and only him, and he’ll do anything to make the actor his own. He can’t accept the fact that Sean has a boyfriend. To Gene, Nate might as well not exist.
Despite increased security and all efforts to keep him safe, Sean vanishes, and Nate feels as if his world has come tumbling down. When the police response is too slow for him, Nate enlists the help of his producer and bodyguard to find Sean. Will he manage to find his lover before Sean disappears forever? Or will Gene finally get what he’s always dreamed of, and make Sean the love of his life, instead?
Fan Gene Scott worships Sean. He maintains a blog dedicated to the actor and writes out all his fantasies there. He wants Sean to belong to him, and only him, and he’ll do anything to make the actor his own. He can’t accept the fact that Sean has a boyfriend. To Gene, Nate might as well not exist.
Despite increased security and all efforts to keep him safe, Sean vanishes, and Nate feels as if his world has come tumbling down. When the police response is too slow for him, Nate enlists the help of his producer and bodyguard to find Sean. Will he manage to find his lover before Sean disappears forever? Or will Gene finally get what he’s always dreamed of, and make Sean the love of his life, instead?
Excerpt:
Note: may contain sexually explicit
scenes of a homoerotic nature.
Gritting his teeth, Nate hisses under his breath. He is
standing in front of a cop, giving his statement on what has just happened. Not
that there's much to say. His mind keeps replaying that scene when Sean turned
to him, his face ashen, and Nate wishes with all his heart that he was the one
who had opened the door, the one who found the flowers instead of Sean, sparing
him the shock of seeing the seemingly innocuous pink bouquet with its single
black rose.
Nate is angry with himself, feeling like a failure even though he knows what happened wasn't his fault. There was no way he could have predicted that the pervert was going to put the flowers inside their SUV. He runs his fingers through his hair, ends his statement, and turns to go to Sean who is sitting slumped on the pavement with Osborn by his side. Sean is staring ahead of him, his face expressionless, his hands clenched tightly into fists. Osborn is talking to him but Sean seems to not be aware of him, or of anyone else around him for that matter.
“Excuse me, Mr. Matthews.”
A man stops in front of Nate, a reporter, judging by the tape recorder he holds in his hand, and Nate feels his temper rising. This is so not the time for an interview and how in the world did the media get to hear of this so quickly anyway? Fucking reporters.
“Yeah?” Nate asks impatiently.
“Scott, Eugene Scott from The Vancouver Daily." The man is tall, almost as tall as him, and Nate rarely meets someone who is the same height as him here in Vancouver. "Are these the first flowers Sean got from the stalker?"
“We don’t know if he’s stalking Sean or not.”
“But it’s obvious that he is, right?”
Nate frowns, looking at the reporter more closely, "No, it is not obvious that he, or she, is stalking Sean."
“Oh, it’s just -- but back to my question --”
“No, they’re not,” Nate cuts him short. He really wants to get this over with without being downright rude.
“Huh?”
“These are not the first flowers.”
Scott nods. “Any weird thing?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, if there's something strange with the flowers or --”
“They’re just flowers, okay? Look. I’m tired and I really don’t have anything more to say. If you'll excuse me." Nate walks past Scott, going toward Sean who is still sitting at the same spot, alone. Nate glances over at Osborn who is now with the police, presumably giving his statements to them.
"Sean," he says softly as he sits beside Sean on the pavement. He puts his hand on Sean's knee, stilling it.
“Nate --” There's a tremor in Sean's voice.
Nate turns his head toward Sean who is looking even more agitated than before.
"Hey, man.” He puts his arm around Sean's shoulders, pulling him close, kissing him on the temple. He can feel Sean shaking. "I've got you."
“They found a picture,” Sean says abruptly. "Inside the flowers. The police showed it to me."
“What picture?” The police didn't say anything to him about that. Nate's stomach sinks. Sending flowers is one thing but pictures? Of Sean?
"It's one of me. Sleeping. Inside the house." Sean's voice is bordering on the hysterical now. "Whoever it is must have used a long-lens camera or something. How could they get through the gate, Nate?"
"Ssh, baby.” Nate tries to put as much reassurance as he can in his voice. Someone has to remain calm even though Nate is feeling anything but. He puts both his arms around Sean, can feel him trembling, and holds him even tighter. "Breathe with me, c'mon."
Sean stills and takes a deep breath. “Can we go home now? Have the police finished with us?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think we can go home now." Nate stands up and holds out a hand to pull Sean up. They hold each other tight for a moment longer, both of them unaware of a pair of eyes watching them from a distance.
Nate is angry with himself, feeling like a failure even though he knows what happened wasn't his fault. There was no way he could have predicted that the pervert was going to put the flowers inside their SUV. He runs his fingers through his hair, ends his statement, and turns to go to Sean who is sitting slumped on the pavement with Osborn by his side. Sean is staring ahead of him, his face expressionless, his hands clenched tightly into fists. Osborn is talking to him but Sean seems to not be aware of him, or of anyone else around him for that matter.
“Excuse me, Mr. Matthews.”
A man stops in front of Nate, a reporter, judging by the tape recorder he holds in his hand, and Nate feels his temper rising. This is so not the time for an interview and how in the world did the media get to hear of this so quickly anyway? Fucking reporters.
“Yeah?” Nate asks impatiently.
“Scott, Eugene Scott from The Vancouver Daily." The man is tall, almost as tall as him, and Nate rarely meets someone who is the same height as him here in Vancouver. "Are these the first flowers Sean got from the stalker?"
“We don’t know if he’s stalking Sean or not.”
“But it’s obvious that he is, right?”
Nate frowns, looking at the reporter more closely, "No, it is not obvious that he, or she, is stalking Sean."
“Oh, it’s just -- but back to my question --”
“No, they’re not,” Nate cuts him short. He really wants to get this over with without being downright rude.
“Huh?”
“These are not the first flowers.”
Scott nods. “Any weird thing?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, if there's something strange with the flowers or --”
“They’re just flowers, okay? Look. I’m tired and I really don’t have anything more to say. If you'll excuse me." Nate walks past Scott, going toward Sean who is still sitting at the same spot, alone. Nate glances over at Osborn who is now with the police, presumably giving his statements to them.
"Sean," he says softly as he sits beside Sean on the pavement. He puts his hand on Sean's knee, stilling it.
“Nate --” There's a tremor in Sean's voice.
Nate turns his head toward Sean who is looking even more agitated than before.
"Hey, man.” He puts his arm around Sean's shoulders, pulling him close, kissing him on the temple. He can feel Sean shaking. "I've got you."
“They found a picture,” Sean says abruptly. "Inside the flowers. The police showed it to me."
“What picture?” The police didn't say anything to him about that. Nate's stomach sinks. Sending flowers is one thing but pictures? Of Sean?
"It's one of me. Sleeping. Inside the house." Sean's voice is bordering on the hysterical now. "Whoever it is must have used a long-lens camera or something. How could they get through the gate, Nate?"
"Ssh, baby.” Nate tries to put as much reassurance as he can in his voice. Someone has to remain calm even though Nate is feeling anything but. He puts both his arms around Sean, can feel him trembling, and holds him even tighter. "Breathe with me, c'mon."
Sean stills and takes a deep breath. “Can we go home now? Have the police finished with us?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think we can go home now." Nate stands up and holds out a hand to pull Sean up. They hold each other tight for a moment longer, both of them unaware of a pair of eyes watching them from a distance.
About the Author:
Iyana lives in Jakarta, a city
famous for its traffic jams, a lot of cars and motorcycles, and people selling
stuff on the roads. You can spend two hours on the road going to a place you
can reach in half an hour in a normal situation. Thanks to the traffic jams,
though, Iyana can come up with a lot of stories, mostly shorties, as she
prefers to spend the time during her trips writing into her cell phone rather
than sleeping.
Another thing Iyana loves is
kitties. Right now she has five of them. Their names are Larva, Nyil, Cil,
Mermood, and Horus. When she doesn’t write, she plays with them, or they would
play with her when she writes.
Author’s Links:
And
now, please enter the Rafflecopter to win the prizes!
Thank you so much for having me, Cate. I really appreciate it! <3
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Iyana. I have the same difficulties with patience and seem to want to wrap my stories up fast as well. I'm working on writing longer pieces--a New Year's goal for me, too--including the 50k word NaNo novel I'm writing now. Really enjoyed the excerpt and look forward to reading more of your work. Paul
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Paul. So we'll make our goal come true next year. :)
Delete