Blog Tour - Sweet Giordan, Please Remember by Raine O'Tierney

Raine O'Tierney is here today as a part of her blog tour for her new release Sweet Giordan, Please Remember. Giordan comes out today from Dreamspinner Press and you're going to want to head over there right now and buy it. Trust me on this one. In fact, here is the link so you can go order right now. It's such a beautiful story that pulls you in right from the very beginning, wraps you in loveliness, and keeps you there until the very end. I wish this story had been longer, but I have it on very good authority that there are going to be more stories in this series and I'm doing a happy dance right now just thinking about it.

She has stopped by to share with us, a letter to her brother, an excerpt and some pretty amazing prizes:

An Open Letter to My Brother, on This, My Release Day!

Dearest Andy,

How are you? I hope well. (This is for show, I speak to you almost every day and so I know how you are...nerdlinger. Also, you smell vaguely of farts. I love you.)

Today is my release day! Sweet Giordan, Please Remember is available for download. I already bullied you into pre-ordering it, so I’m just letting you know you can go and download it now. And read it. And call me. And talk with me about it. If you want, no pressure! (Pressure.)

I wish that was all this letter was about. Love, farts, and my release. Unfortunately, it is not.

Andy, there’s been this problem, this issue, this grumble, hanging between us for almost twenty-eight years and I think it’s time that you and I settle it. I’ve run to the refuge of Cate Ashwood’s blog to address this. Why?

Because she may very well be the only one who can stop your reign of terror.

Today this ends, Andrew.

Today you admit…you are not the only redhead.

I get it, I do! Your hair is beautiful. It glows so brightly red that one could light a candle off the flame-hue. I have never seen a red so beautiful.

But the tyranny has to stop, Andrew! You can’t go around declaring other people’s reds LESS red because your red is so magnificent! Cate Ashwood is proof positive other redheads exist. And this includes me, sir. I. AM. A. REDHEAD. Admit it, Andrew! I beg of you, before our relationship is torn apart by jealousy and lies. Is it as beautiful as yours? No! Have I been envious since I was a child? Yes! Am I blonde? NO sir, I am not!

And all I ask is that you admit that you can be the King of the Gingers, while still allowing the rest of us our brief moment in the sun.

Please.

I beg of you.

Love always,

Your sister

P.S. Download my book, dork!

(Thank you, Cate, for hosting me as my brother and I publicly tackle our darkest issues!)

Blurb

Sweet Giordan, Please Remember by Raine O'Tierney

Giordan Stone is lucky, all things considered. Sure, he spent five years in a coma only to wake with a right leg that’s practically useless and no memories other than his name. But now he’s under the care of sassy southern surrogate mother, Chloe Devereaux, spending his days painting and healing. Giordan wants for nothing at all… until he looks out the window one morning and sees Chloe's gorgeous son, Shane, standing there. Something very familiar stirs in Giordan.

When he sketches, Giordan is able to go into an “art trance” where pieces of disjointed memory come back to him without time or place. More and more of these flashes are of Shane Devereaux and the intense, intimate experiences they shared together. Even though Shane keeps his distance now, Giordan is convinced his flashes are real. But he doesn’t have the whole story. Giordan is determined to fill in his memory blanks and convince Shane his feelings are genuine.

Excerpt

Outside, the light of the morning was a gentle white. He was ready to go with Chloe to the orchard and paint anything and everything. Maybe she’d take him all the way down to the end of the lane so he could sit near the creek that separated the Devereaux’s property from county land.

Giordan was daydreaming about smearing blues across fresh canvas when something down below caught his eye. He looked closer.

His cane slipped through loose fingers, but he didn’t hear it clatter to the wood floor. He didn’t hear anything. Suddenly, his whole attention was intensely focused on a man standing down on the walk. He was talking seriously with Chloe’s husband, Mr. Devereaux.

Giordan couldn’t have torn his eyes away if they’d been burning, because something about the man he saw there was familiar and that familiarity strained against the mental veil. A hot feeling spread over him, and he flushed, at once both embarrassed and curious. He wanted to throw open the window and call out to this stranger, but of course, he didn’t know his name. What in the world was happening to him? Did he know the man standing below?

Giordan opened his mouth and raised his fists to the pane to call attention to himself when Chloe caught his arm and placed the cane back into his hand.

He’d never seen the look on her face before, and it startled him into obedient silence. She placed a finger to her lips and motioned him back to his bedroom. Giordan snuck one final look at the man standing outside before Chloe hurried him on, faster than his aching side wanted to go. That deep, familiar feeling lingered inside him, and Giordan felt achingly disappointed at his missed opportunity.

“Maman, who is that?” Giordan asked once she’d shut his door.

Her look softened and she placed a gentle hand against his cheek. “That’s my son, Shane.”

“Shane,” Giordan repeated. He was hoping once he had a name to go along with the handsome face that memories would flood in and everything would become clear. “But I know him, right?” he begged, certain she would confirm it. Seeing Shane’s face was like the trances Giordan went into when he drew: too familiar not to be real.

Chloe took one long, slow breath and replied, “Ah, not anymore, honey. It’s been a long time.”

“Well, then I’d like to meet him. I-I should reintroduce myself!”

“Giordan, I….” Chloe’s hesitation, much like the expression she’d had on her face, quieted him. She didn’t want them to meet. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Buy links

DSP: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_1024

Bio

Raine O’Tierney is an always-writing, boundlessly enthusiastic, exclamation point addict! (!!!) She is known for declaring every day “the best day EVER!” and every thing her “all-time FAVORITE!” Despite this (obnoxious?) exuberance, she still somehow manages to have a wonderfully encouraging husband and writing partner, Siôn, and an amazing group of friends and colleagues who continue to support (read: put up with) her. Raine spends her days working as a library lady, fighting the good fight for intellectual freedom.

Website and social media links

Website: http://raineotierney.com/

E-mail: Raineotierney@gmail.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RaineOTierneyAuthor

The Hat Party (LGBT Author Interviews) http://raineotierneyhatparty.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @RaineOTierney

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/RaineOTierney

Blog Tour and Prizes!

Sweet Giordan, Please Remember Blog Tour

March 17th--March 29th

Prizes:

*** Set of Sweet Giordan, Please Remember and Under the Table and Into His Heart ebooks

*** I Believe in the Sweetness Notebook

*** I Believe in the Sweetness Tote

*** 2x I Believe in the Sweetness Bumper Stickers

*** 2x Sweetness! Bumper Stickers

Please visit Home of the Sweetness to enter:

http://raineotierney.blogspot.com/2014/03/sweet-giordan-please-remember-blog-tour.html

Someone to Keep Me Blog Tour

I am so very pleased that the first post of the new year is going to be for a book (and a writing team) who are very special to me.

Someone to Keep Me is one of my all-time favourites. I had the pleasure of reading this one before it hit the shelves and I fell in love with Scott and Ben right away. There is something so innocent and naïve about Scott, and Ben is so stoic. Both men are flawed, but the flaws are what make them so perfect for one another and so endearing to readers. They draw strength from one another, albeit in very different ways. Both men will burrow their way into your heart and you won’t want them out.

Parker and KC write so seamlessly together. They are a wonderful team and they have created a wonderful book that I will be rereading over and over again.

And the cover. Let me just say, the cover! So beautiful and it fits the story perfectly.

In addition to the fantastic blog post they've got for us today, they're also running a giveaway. Actually, I don't know if it can just be called a giveaway. There should be a bigger, more fantastic name for what KC and Parker are doing. They are giving away a Kindle Fire loaded with over 100 books to one lucky winner. 

You can enter to win this amazing prize here: Rafflecopter giveaway

BLURB:
Eighteen-year-old Scott Keating knows a whole world exists beyond his parents’ strict control, but until he gains access to the World Wide Web, he really has no idea what’s out there. In a chat room, Scott meets “JeffUK.” Jeff loves and understands him, and when he offers to bring Scott to the UK, Scott seizes his chance to escape his humdrum life and see the world. But when his plane touches down and Jeff isn’t there, panic sets in.
Collars & Cuffs favorite barman and Dom-in-training, Ben Winters, drops his sister off at the airport and finds a lost, anxious Scott. Hearing Scott’s story sets off alarm bells, along with his protective instincts. Taking pity on the naïve boy, Ben offers him a place to crash and invites him to Collars & Cuffs, hoping his bosses will know how to help. Scott dreams of belonging to someone, heart and soul. Ben longs for a sub of his own. And neither man sees what’s right under his nose.

Buy Someone To Keep Me Here

And now, Parker and KC have written something very special for you to give you a little taste of the men from Someone to Keep Me!

Scott

He’d been drinking. Again. The shouting began earlier than normal, which meant he’d stopped off on the way home for a few beers with his friends. It also meant that he’d read the report from my teacher. Being homeschooled wasn’t a picnic. Having one person who knew everything about what I learned or, in this case, was disinterested in, really sucked.

“Scott!” I winced at the tone of the voice because I knew what was going to come next. Heavy footsteps on the stairs ceased outside my door. It flew open, hitting hard against the wall, the divot in wood a little deeper each time.

“What the hell is this?” he shouted, flapping a paper in front of me. Before I could answer he stepped closer. It hadn’t been beer tonight. He’d been hitting the hard stuff. Great.

“We’re paying damn good money for you to get an educashun,” he slurred. “This kind of work is un-unacceptable. An architect needs to know this shtuff.”

And there it was. I wasn’t asked what I wanted. I was told. He and my mother had been telling me since I could remember what I was going to be doing with my life, and I accepted it.

“Your mother and I are having dinner,” he snapped. “You’re going to be spending the night studying.” He grabbed the Nook off my desk and threw it at me, the corner catching on my arm. I picked it up, opened it, and began reading one of the books he’d given me on buildings in the US. He grunted and slammed the door closed behind him. I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. The warmth on my face told me I wasn’t succeeding.

Outside my window I could hear the people from the coffee shop. I looked out and saw them sitting close together, having a good time. I wished I could be there with them. I wanted nothing more than for someone to look at me the way some of those people stared at one another. Like they were the only thing in the world at that moment. I heaved a weighty sigh and lay back down on the bed. I fiddled with some of the settings on the e-reader when I noticed a setting for internet connectivity. I switched it on and found that I had bars from the coffee shop! My reading abandoned, I started playing around online. I wished I could lock my door, but my parents saw no reason I should need privacy. Still, the Nook made it easy to switch to something else if necessary.

I spent every spare moment of the next several weeks looking for a life online. I searched for gay youth and found a website called Top and Bottom Boys that had a chat room. It was a lively place with kids from all over the world talking about themselves. It wasn’t really sexy chat, though discussions about things like condom use did get heated at times. Anything sex related was usually taken to a private room. I’d had invitations, but never accepted. Still, I longed to talk about sex with someone. My parents kept me locked up most days. I wasn’t allowed to go out, not that I had anywhere to go. But I made some acquaintances in the chat room and they were a good sounding board for me. I promised myself that one day, I’d accept when someone asked me to chat. Three days later, a message popped up.

JeffUK: Hi.

HomeboyS: Hello.

JeffUK: I like your name. What does it mean?

HomeboyS: Nothing really. I’m at home, I’m a boy, and my name is Scott.

I rolled my eyes. Thinking of it that way made me roll my eyes.

JeffUK: Great. My name is Jeff and I live in Manchester, England. You feel up for a chat?

I took a deep breath and slowly typed my reply.

HomeboyS: Yeah. I think I’d like that.

Ben

I wiped down the top of the bar again. I hated the weekends. Yeah, I made good tips, but Saturday nights I saw all of the usual people stroll through the door. Leo and Alex, Miles and Pietro. Even Thomas, whose sub Peter wouldn’t come to the club, was constantly on the phone with his boy. I wanted that. A sub of my own. Oh, I didn’t begrudge Thomas his happiness with Peter. Far from it. Though it did put a crimp in my training. Thomas had offered to find me someone else to train with, but it felt awkward to me.

My phone rang, pulling me from my reveries. I smiled when I saw Annie’s name pop up on the display.

“Annie! Nice to hear from you. I haven’t seen you all week.”

She sniffled and I could hear her gasping.

“Annie? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I-I was made redundant today,” she sobbed.

It wasn’t unexpected. Annie’s company had been having money problems, just like most other places around the world. Still, she brought in some money to the household we shared and this was definitely going to hurt.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure something out.”

I ran some mental calculations and figured I had enough money to support us both for three, maybe four months, if I really tightened things up. Maybe I could pick up a few extra shifts. Felix seemed to be in another world lately, so I might be able to work a few more days.

“I’m sorry, Benjy,” she whispered.

She hadn’t called me that in years. She sounded so sad and defeated. I wanted to hug her and let her know that we’d be okay. I wasn’t expecting the next words, though.

“Pablo asked me to go with him back to Spain. He’s going back home next month. Their job is almost finished here and the next one will be near where he lives. Would you hate me if I said yes?”

I ran my thumb and forefinger over the bridge of my nose. It would be a relief that she had somewhere to go. Pablo worshipped the ground she walked on and I’d never seen her happier. Still, I’d miss her.

“Of course I wouldn’t hate you. If that’s what you want to do, you need to go for it.”

“But the money—“

“Isn’t your concern. I’ll find a way to make it work. How long will you be gone?”

She was quiet for a moment. “A month, maybe.”

I forced a smile so she wouldn’t hear the desperation in my voice. “I’m happy for you, hon. Pablo is a great guy.”

“But what about—“

“Annie,” I said sternly, “stop worrying.” I looked at the clock. “My shift is almost done. I’ll grab something for dinner on the way home. What do you feel like?”

“I’ll make us something. Hurry home.”

With that she disconnected. I looked at the happy couples watching the men on stage and I felt my heart break a small bit. Even though I very much wanted what they had, I realized it was something I was never going to get.

I sighed and went back to wiping the top of the bar till it shone. Maybe one day.

Bios:

Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C.Wells always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way.
K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings – writing about men in love was even hotter...
K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career.
The laptop still has no idea of what hit it... it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
K.C. can be reached via email (k.c.wells@btinternet.com), on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld) or through comments at the K.C.Wells website (www.kcwellsworld.com ) K.C. loves to hear from readers.

PARKER WILLIAMS began to write as a teen, but never showed his work to anyone. As he grew older, he drifted away from writing, but his love of the written word moved him to reading. A chance encounter with an author changed the course of his life as she encouraged him to never give up on a dream. With the help of some amazing friends, he rediscovered the joy of writing, thanks to a community of writers who have become his family.
Parker firmly believes in love, but is also of the opinion that anything worth having requires work and sacrifice (plus a little hurt and angst, too). The course of love is never a smooth one, and Happily Ever After always has a price tag.
Website: http://www.parkerwilliamsauthor.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ParkerWAuthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/parker.williams.75641 

E-mail: parker@parkerwilliamsauthor.com




Excerpt

I was trying to make shopping a fun experience, but Scott wasn’t making it easy. I figured he’d had a heavy morning emotionally, and I thought taking him around Debenhams department store would provide him with a little light relief. I kept holding up these really loud shirts and telling him he’d look good in them. His reaction confused the hell out of me. It was almost as if the boy didn’t know how to have fun. And when I held up some really skimpy underwear, I thought he was going to faint from embarrassment. I kept looking at the clothes he’d picked out. Two pairs of jeans, no problem there, but the shirts were bland, boring even. Scott was eighteen, for God’s sake. In desperation, I picked up a blue shirt I thought would really suit him. The color was a perfect match for his eyes. I held it out to him.
“Would you wear this for me?”
He gazed at me for a moment, and I thought he was going to refuse. Then he nodded shyly. Thank God. I put it in the basket along with his other choices, and we headed for the till. I handed over Leo’s letter of authorization confirming his phone call, and we were done. As we left the store, loaded up with bags, Scott asked for the receipts, to keep them safe to give to Leo.
I snickered. “You do know Leo won’t do anything with those receipts, don’t you?” I knew my boss better than he did.
Scott stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, his mouth open. “What?” I shrugged. He held out his bags. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept these.” God, he could be stubborn.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, be like that. I’m sure the people at the launderette won’t mind seeing you standing there in your underwear washing your one suit.” I started walking again, laughing inwardly as he caught up to me in a hurry.
Scott tilted his head. “Launderette?”
I searched for the American equivalent. “Laundromat.” A horrified expression crept over his face. Yeah, I’d thought that would make him stop and think. “Can you afford to be proud right now?” His face fell, and I instantly regretted my words. The boy had to see things clearly, though.
Scott looked at his bags of clothing, his expression grudging, to say the least. “Okay, but I still want the receipts.” Out came that chin again. The lad had some backbone to him.
This time I stopped. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”
The color rose in his cheeks. “It’s not being stubborn, it’s being responsible.” His lips narrowed. “I don’t need someone to take care of me.”
“Fine. Whatever,” I muttered and started walking again. I glanced at the boy surreptitiously as we went along. Regardless of what came out of his mouth, everything about Scott said something entirely different. Alex was right: the lad needed a keeper. I turned off Piccadilly onto London Road, back to the hotel where I’d left the car.
“Where are we going?” Scott looked at me in confusion as he caught sight of the hotel.
“We’re going to my place. I have a flat.”
An eager expression crossed his face. “Do you need help with that?”
I frowned. “Help with what?”
“Your flat. Have you got a jack?”
I struggled for a moment to understand. Then it dawned on me. I laughed. “Okay, for future reference? A flat is an apartment.” I shook my head, still chuckling. “How do you expect to write if you don’t even know English?” His cheeks flamed.

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone!

To celebrate, since Xto is away this week, I spent my day studying the heart for my electrocardiography class, and writing about two men falling in love.

Fitting, isn't it?

It was a really great day though despite being by myself for most of it. Dreamspinner was giving away free books all day, and I managed to score copies of Plan B by SJD Peterson, Reflections of Love Valentine's Anthology, When One Door Opens by JD Ruskin, and World on Fire by Hayley B. James.


I am so excited and can't wait to read them all. Things have been so busy lately though and I have been sick for over a week, so I am way behind on my reading. I started reading Andrew Q. Gordon's The Last Grand Master last night, but passed out before I could get very far, which was a shame because so far I really like it.

So besides having a really great Valentine's Day, the rest of the weekend is going to be pretty awesome too. I have a ton of new reading material, my cousin is coming to town tomorrow and I get to see him play hockey, then Saturday, Xto and I are doing something really romantic for our belated VDay... we're going to see the new Die Hard movie.

Ah, the sexy and exciting life of newlyweds.

Anyone Need Fluffing?

I have been reading some chats this week and there have been a few that have been talking about tropes, specifically the idea that love is all you need to overcome any obstacle.
One of the reasons I chose to write romance is because I love a lot of the tropes that exist in the genre. I love the idea that love conquers all. In my opinion, it is the basic foundation of the romance genre. It's also one of the largest reasons I read (and got started in writing) romance. Romance is fantasy; it's escapist and I like it that way.
There have been some grumblings about writers using the classic (or maybe cliché) "love conquers all" trope as an easy way out -- a fallback because they are not talented or creative enough to write something different -- and that the characters and plot lines in these stories are one dimensional and trite. Yup, some are. I've read quite a few that left me feeling annoyed and shortchanged.
But have also been lots (and I do mean a lot) of stories that are perfectly fluffy and feel-good and charming just the way they are. Is it possible to fall madly in love with someone after three days? Three minutes in some cases? Maybe, maybe not, but it's awfully fun to imagine.

---

One of my favourite m/m romance books ever is Bareback by Chris Owen. That story fucked me up. I started it somewhere around eleven and by midnight I was so upset that I felt like I was going to throw up. It was that good. I had to stay up to finish the rest of the book because there was no way I was sleeping otherwise. Amazing book. If you haven't read it, go buy it now. It is such a good book (I just can't emphasize that enough), but so emotionally taxing at the same time. I try to read at least four books a week, and if they were all like that I might end up throwing myself off a bridge somewhere. There has to be a balance in the book world, just enough "brain popcorn" (as my friend Lex calls it) to feed the soul. I'm not asking for literary masterpieces inside every book I read. God knows the book I've written isn't a literary masterpiece, but I believe there is value to it. It's hopelessly written for hopeless romantics (the club to which I received my membership at the tender age of twelve) and I think it has merit.
American History X was a great movie. It carries an important message and I believe that as disturbing as it is, people should see it. Would I want to watch it over and over? No. You know what movie I would like to watch over and over? The Little Mermaid. Yes, it's a kid's movie. Yes, it's animated. (By the way, I fucking LOVE Disney). But it's a good story, and Love Conquers All.  (Besides, Ariel is a redhead, and us redheads have to stick together).
The chats that I was reading reminded me a bit of conversations I had in middle school about music. Everyone was trying to fit in; no one wanted to be the uncool kid that listened to the crap music, so most people I knew pretended to like some indie band no one had heard of that only played dissonant chords and performed at skeezy hole-in-the-wall clubs. There is nothing wrong with liking bands like that, if that's what you truly enjoy listening to. I'm betting though, that a lot of those people went home and listened to Backstreet Boys on repeat when no one else was around.
I suppose the moral of my long-winded rant is that there is value in fluff. There is nothing wrong with liking boy bands or believing in love at first sight or happily ever after. If there is, maybe I should quit writing now