Friday, June 30, 2017

Life is a constant re-set in thinking

June 30, 2017

Reaching the halfway mark in any given year always seems to catch folks by surprise. Everyone I know comments on how fast the time “flies” by. I certainly wonder about it. Was I somehow not paying attention every day? I was. Days filled with things to accomplish do pass quickly when we’re absorbed in our tasks.

That’s not a bad thing. I’m passing 2017 in what feels like yet another career re-set. Looking back, the first reset came in 2007, after the Triskelion debacle. That’s when KC came into being. Skip ahead to 2013 and I read the writing on the wall in a post from my then publisher, Amber Quill Press, now defunct. It was time to learn how to create my own covers and prepare to become an independent.

That publisher closed at the end of 2015 and I re-set as an indie author. The dedicated march to republish my entire backlist continues. A surprise in this endeavor has been the reception of my early work as Rayne Forrest. I republished those works more to please myself than anything else and apparently there are readers out there who remember the brand.  So there’s another reset.

Maybe it’s a good thing to re-set some parts of your life, especially if you can prepare for them. My recent birthday brought to light some ambivalence with the idea of early retirement.  There have been changes at the day job and going to work is fun again. If I could take Deuce to work with me, it would be perfect. Maybe I’m not ready to reset that part of my life and I've been adamant about retiring at the earliest opportunity. That’s a re-set in my thinking and planning.

All these resets have been educational. The more I learn about the publishing industry, and life in general, the better equipped I am to make the right choices. Opinions abound about where the industry is going but those opining tend to look at how those changes effect the “big name” writers. They bypass those of us writing for the joy of writing a story we want to read.

Perhaps if we could get the naysayers to give themselves a reset and find a little romance for them, the world would be a better place.

Ultimately, that’s what writers attempt to do. Whatever world we create for ourselves and our readers, we weave the story until it can reset and continue on in a better way. I think that’s worth doing.

KC Kendricks

My home on the web- Between the Keys: http://kckendricks.blogspot.com
twitter.com/kckendricks
facebook.com/kckendricks
pinterest.com/kckendricks/boards
instagram.com/kc_kendricks
My country life at Holly Tree Manor


Wednesday, June 28, 2017

MidWeek Tease - Kentucky 98 Proof


June 28, 2017
**Updated 4/2/21 - the MidWeek Tease blog hop is closed.**

This week, as part of the MidWeek Tease Blog Hop, I have an excerpt from Kentucky 98 Proof. Enjoy!



_*_*_*_*_*_

EXCERPT

Boone dropped the pickup in gear, gave the powerful four-wheel drive some gas, and swung the nose up the hill before allowing the truck to coast back onto the surface of the lane. He knew better than to try to back out the lane in the snow. 

“Can you feel your feet?”

“I’ve got a few pins and needles in my toes, but I’m fine. Honest. And thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“It’s my job.” Boone hoped Carter wasn’t about to get all sappy. He hated sap. It wasn’t manly. He stopped at the end of the lane, glanced at his passenger, and froze.



The blue lights of the dashboards danced in Vic’s glittering gaze as he studied him. That obvious speculation wouldn’t do. He’d prefer to battle his attraction to Vic without Vic correctly concluding he was gay. Getting involved with Carter was out of the question.


He was the sheriff here, with an image and a reputation to uphold. People in Four Points were in a lot of ways traditional - not intolerant, just old-fashioned. Boone wasn’t ready to come out even though he suspected his constituents wouldn’t bat too many eyes, but if he spent a year happily screwing this guy, people would notice.
                        
His was a high-profile position. He respected the badge he wore and the people he served. It didn’t matter how attractive Victor Carter was or that his cock was so stiff it likely had zipper marks embedded in it right now. He’d be damned if he’d throw away a dozen years of hard work just to get his dick sucked. Boone pressed his lips together then snapped at Vic.

“But it’s not my job to keep hauling your ass out of trouble every time I turn around. If you’re gonna be here a year, you’d better figure out a few things, and fast. And the first thing is, when I give you some advice, you need to fucking listen up.”

Vic stared at him for a few short heartbeats. “I’m sorry, Boone. You’re right.”

Boone glared at him. That was too easy. Carter was going to be in trouble every time he turned around. He checked to make sure the pickup was in four-high and third gear and drove forward into the swirling snow.

Give the man credit, Vic didn’t chatter at him while he drove through the squall. Visibility was low and he needed to concentrate. He knew the roads and where the intersections were and he still had difficulty seeing. Carter would have gotten himself well and truly lost driving around the mountain in this weather. Boone slowed as the lighted sign of the motor lodge glowed red in front of him.

“Which room are you in?”

“Last one on the end. Better for the dog.”

Huh. That made sense. Boone took his foot off the gas pedal and drifted into the parking space. Vic jumped out before he had the truck in park, slipped and landed flat on his ass.

The idiot.

Boone cut the engine and climbed out of the cab at a safer speed. With one gloved hand on the front end of the truck he walked around to the passenger side and found Vic leaning against the front tire. “You okay?”

“My pride is severely bruised.”

“I can just imagine.” Boone reached out to give Vic a hand up. As Vic got to his feet he brushed his jeans off.

“Thanks, Boone.”

“You said that. Get inside before your dog starts to bark and the manager yells at me.”

Vic’s gaze seemed focused on the motel office. “I got a coffee pot if you want to come in and warm up.”

Holy mother of … Wouldn’t that be the stupidest thing he’d done in years?

 “Sure, Vic. I could do with a cup.”

Who the fuck said that?

 Vic looked surprised and straightened. “Ranger needs to…”

Boone recovered a bit of his equilibrium. “I’ll take him around the side of the building. You get your ass inside. I want a good look at your head, and if I say we’re going to the clinic and wake up Doc Martin, you’re not going to argue with me.”

 “Yes, sir. I hear you loud and clear.” Vic opened the side door of the pickup and Ranger leaped to the ground. As soon as his paws hit the pavement, he jumped and hit Vic square in the chest. Boone lunged to catch him before he fell again, but ended up in the snow with him. Could this man be more trouble?

“I’m sorry, Boone! Ranger! Leave off!”

“Sorry my ass, Carter. Sorry ain’t good enough for this little misadventure.”



_*_*_*_

ABOUT KENTUCKY 98 PROOF


Victor Carter knows his grandfather only from a handful of black and white photographs, so his surprise when the man’s will is read is genuine. What’s he going to do with seventy acres on the side of a Kentucky mountain? More importantly, how’s he going to survive living there for a year to satisfy the conditions of the will so he can sell the property? Even worse, it’s not like the hills of Kentucky are teeming with gay companionship.

Boone Mosely is Kentucky born and bred with a proud family heritage he can trace back to his home state’s founding. Following in his uncle’s footsteps, Boone’s in his second term as sheriff of Four Points. He takes the job seriously and doesn’t suffer fools - or crime - in his town.


When city slicker Victor Carter arrives on Shepherd Mountain, Boone knows he’s got a whole new brand of trouble to deal with. And this time, the badge isn’t going to help him at all.

KENTUCKY 98 PROOF

Contemporary gay romance




KC Kendricks






Sunday, June 25, 2017

Bird song and character bios

June 25, 2017

Living in the country, my life is full of simple pleasures. Sunday mornings are singular among them. The quiet is unbelievable, so much so I wonder if a city dweller, accustomed to the constant background noises of man, truly believe such quiet can exist. 

Ron and Deuce are sleeping. The neighbors, my cousins, are ensconced behind their doors. They'll make noise soon, but never do they stir outside before seven-thirty on a Sunday morning. 

This quiet morning, I took a notepad and my coffee outside to my deck. The spousal unit has taken over the patio and I've "thrown in the towel" on reclaiming it. Outdoor living now takes place just outside my office door. 

I think better when it's quiet. With all of life's complications, it's been difficult for me to be intentional about the next few stories. Vague ideas don't get me started. Character bios do.

Who is the antagonist? What's he look like? What talents does he possess? What's his family history? What does he want that he cannot have? Does he have a vice? A secret wish? 

Enter the protagonist. What's he look like? What are his talents and family history? Is there a tragedy in his life? Does he need to be reformed in some manner? 

Once I know the main characters, it's easy to find a setting for them to meet and set them on the path to their future. Are all futures rosy? With some it is readily apparent it will be. Sometimes the characters need to be left accepting they're ready to love, nurture and cherish each other one day at a time just like real life. Sometimes trying to sell the total happily ever after is not true to who they are.

I can tell you this. After spending an hour on the deck with a few of the local songbirds, the next guy's story might involve his fondness for our feathered friends. Maybe he'll be a birdwatcher, or have a pet shop with birds. Maybe he'll have a parrot who helps him drink his Sunday morning coffee on his balcony. Maybe he'll like ancient birds - the dinosaurs!

Maybe I should get back to work before the world turns noisy.  Character bios don't write themselves and the birds won't sing like this all day. 

KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com
www.twitter.com/kckendricks

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

MidWeek Tease Blog Hop - The Ghost at the B&B - Kendricks/France

June 21, 2017
**Updated 4/2/21 - the MidWeek Tease blog hop is closed.**

Welcome to summer! Doesn't it seem like we reached mid-year awfully fast? It does to me but I guess that's what being happy and productive can do for you. There's just no time to sit and watch the grass grow. 

This week, as part of the MidWeek Tease Blog Hop, is an excerpt from The Ghost at the B&B. You won't find this excerpt anywhere else. It's special for today's blog hop. Enjoy!



_*_*_*_*_*_

EXCERPT:

As luck would have it, the headlights of a car flashed bright beams through the house as my bare feet touched the cold floor at the foot of the stairs. I peeked out the nearest window and saw the reflective decals on the cruiser. Colin smiled as I opened the door.

“You waited up for me? How nice. You really didn’t have to.”

I stepped into his arms and let him kiss me. He was warm and solid as I held him, and, best of all, when I pulled away, he blinked.

“I know that, smartass. I just came downstairs for a drink. Would you like one?” I motioned for him to follow me to the rear of the house.

He nodded and tagged along. “I’d love one. Do you have anything other than beer?”

“I’m going for the bourbon.” I didn’t say I thought he’d need one, too, once he heard my story.

“That sounds good to me. Listen, Michael. Don’t make a habit of waiting up for me. Shifts rarely end on time.”

I wanted to ignore the implication of his words but I couldn’t. He meant to stick around and see what was going on between us. I liked the idea and no way would I say anything to jinx it.

I pointed at a chair, then held up a fifth of whiskey. He sat and made a face. “Next time I come over I’ll bring you a bottle of something better.”

“I’m a poor untenured professor. This rotgut is all I can afford.” I checked the ice tray and found the icemaker had cycled a few times. I put a few cubes into two glasses, then poured us each a generous splash of bourbon. Colin murmured his thanks as I handed one to him.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t waiting up for you. I had a visitor.”

Colin tapped his glass to mine and took a sip. I could almost see him relax. He looked at me with open curiosity. “Who came to call this late? Do you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

“Got your hopes up for a threesome, big fella?”

He grinned from ear to ear as he lifted his glass and took another sip.

“Well, don’t unless you like sleeping with a…ghost.” Lord, but I felt silly saying the word out loud.

“Excuse me?” He leaned forward, his cop gaze razor-sharp as his full attention riveted on me.

“You heard me correctly. I had a conversation with a ghost who said his name is Robin.”

Colin gave me what I can only describe as a funny look. “I see. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

I took a healthy swallow of the booze and relayed the encounter. “And the fucker never blinked his eyes not even once. How fucking weird is that?”

Colin’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “You say he simply vanished?”

“I wasn’t dreaming, Colin. He—Robin—just sorta faded away. I turned on the light so I could see him better and that’s when he…dissipated.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Did you go down into the basement?”

“No way. If the weird noises I’ve been hearing are anything to go by, I think I have rats down there. Until someone gets rid of the little bastards, I’m not going down again.”

He chuckled wickedly. “I’m with you when it comes to rats, but I carry a gun.”

“Good. Go shoot the vermin.”

Colin leaned forward again. “Seriously, Michael. After what you’ve just told me, I need to go down in the basement and look around. If what the ghost said is true, it sounds as if he was murdered, and I need to see what I can find in the way of evidence.”

“You believe in ghosts?”

“I’m not saying that. But…”

“But what? You do but you don’t want to admit it?

“Not even that. Like I mentioned earlier, there have always been stories about this house being haunted..." 

ABOUT THE GHOST AT THE B&B


Michael Brooks’ life took an unexpected direction when he found the Taylor Mansion, a two-story Colonial perfect for a Bed & Breakfast. An untenured college professor, he’s suddenly also a successful entrepreneur. And best of all, he met sexy deputy Colin Jefferson and they hit it off in a big way. He’s even made friends with the mansion’s resident ghost. 

Deputy Colin Jefferson is a hometown boy who made good. As a member of the local police force, he serves the community he loves. He’s heard tales about the Taylor Mansion ghost all his life. Now he’s living there with Michael and knows the stories are true. There’s a ghost with a penchant for voyeurism lurking in his bedroom. 

How the ghost came to live in at the B&B is a mystery Michael and Colin need to solve. It’s the only way for their resident spirit to get justice and to find eternal rest. Until they can unearth the murderer, the friendly ghost at the bed and breakfast is a permanent guest. 


THE GHOST AT THE B&B

Available at
Barnes and Noble:

KC Kendricks





Saturday, June 17, 2017

WWW - The Ghost at the B&B by Kendricks/France

June 17, 2017


I'm participating today in the Weekend Writing Warriors blog hop! WWW is a weekly blog hop where authors post eight to ten sentences from a published work or a work in progress. Blog posts are to go live between noon Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday. It's a great way to meet new authors and expand networks. Be sure to visit the WEWRIWA page to check out all the Weekend Writing Warriors blogs. Click here to go to the home page.  It's good stuff. Don't miss out.

This week I have a few sentences from a mixed release. By that I mean Chris and I  got the story started with The Ghost Wore Denim and The Ghost Makes Three. We were unable to release the final book due to the closing of Amber Quill Press. Now, finally, the story is complete. The Ghost at the B&B is all three books in one special volume. (At a single book price because we know so many of you already have the first two stories.) And yes, Robin is a friendly ghost. Very friendly.

Here is a short excerpt you won't find anywhere else, special for this week's Weekend Writing Warriors.

*_*_*_*


Colin licked his lips and I had the flashing sensation of his tongue on my skin. “Have dinner with me Sunday night and maybe I’ll tell you.”

I must have looked stupid because I had not seen that coming.

He chuckled softly and the low, amused sound rippled through me like a symphony. “Sorry if I caught you off-guard. So, will you?”

I recovered my wits enough to flirt with him. “I don’t know if I’ll be safe with a big, burly boy like you.”

Colin grinned. “I’m a cop. If I give you any trouble, you can always borrow my handcuffs.”


ABOUT THE BOOK


Michael Brooks’ life took an unexpected direction when he found the Taylor Mansion, a two-story Colonial perfect for a Bed & Breakfast. An untenured college professor, he’s suddenly also a successful entrepreneur. And best of all, he met sexy deputy Colin Jefferson and they hit it off in a big way. He’s even made friends with the mansion’s resident ghost. 

Deputy Colin Jefferson is a hometown boy who made good. As a member of the local police force, he serves the community he loves. He’s heard tales about the Taylor Mansion ghost all his life. Now he’s living there with Michael and knows the stories are true. There’s a ghost with a penchant for voyeurism lurking in his bedroom.
 
How the ghost came to live in at the B&B is a mystery Michael and Colin need to solve. It’s the only way for their resident spirit to get justice and to find eternal rest. Until they can unearth the murderer, the friendly ghost at the bed and breakfast is a permanent guest. 

THE GHOST AT THE B&B
 Available at
 Barnes & Noble:
  
KC Kendricks
twitter.com/kckendricks
facebook.com/kckendricks




Friday, June 16, 2017

Blue Collar

June 16, 2017

My introduction to pop and rock music came by way of a little transistor radio. I was probably around eight years old. Motown was the big thing on the local stations but after dark, when the local stations went off the air, rock and roll from distant lands sailed in across the airways. Sometime in 1970, the first big local FM station lit up, screaming that it "came from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow."  Yes, the first song they played was Led Zeppelin and after that, rock in all its myriad splendor ruled my musical world. 

Why a picture of a Strat?  My partner has a black and white Strat, his last guitar and the one he won't part with, so it's now my logo when I want to talk about music. 

Fast forward to today and there's a new-ish station on the satellite tv - AXS. (I have DirecTV so that's channel 340.) They are music-focused and I've really enjoyed tuning in while I'm in my home office. Beats having to listen to the ballgame every night, that's for sure. This past weekend, they aired a Bachman-Turner concert. One of the songs, Blue Collar, jumped out at me. 

Blue Collar is one of those album songs that I loved at the time but managed to forget as the years rolled down the highway. Listening to it with a more seasoned perspective, I realize it's more than a lively guitar duel. I have a fondness for smooth jazz, and this song might be where that originated. 

Fred Turner's voice has lost nothing over the years. Maybe it's even better now than in 1973. Of course, Turner wrote this song so he knows its heart. 

With apologies to Fred for posting his words, here is the opening verse:

Walk your street, and I'll walk mine
And should we meet, would you spare me some time?
'Cause you should see my world, meet my kind
Before you judge our minds, 
Blue collar 

I think Fred Turner is a prophet as well as one incredible bass player and vocalist. 

We all walk the same streets, but do we do we take the time to get to know one another? We live in the same communities, but we segregate ourselves into groups of like-minded thinkers. In doing so, we think we know the Others, but do we? It's too easy to pass judgment on the thinking of those Others without adequate understanding. After judgment comes the wrong action. We see it on the news every day and it doesn't need to be that way. 

But in the end, Turner really sums up being blue collar, at least for me. 

You keep that beat, and I keep time
Your restless face is no longer mine
I rest my feet while the world's in heat
And I wish that you could do the same
Blue collar

If you have a moment, go to Youtube and find this guitar gem. It's worth a listen. 

KC Kendricks


Thursday, June 15, 2017

The Ghost at the B&B by KC Kendricks and Christiane France

June 15, 2017


THE GHOST AT THE B&B
Paranormal gay romance

We got the story started with The Ghost Wore Denim and The Ghost Makes Three. We were unable to release the final book due to the closing of Amber Quill Press. Now, finally, the story is complete. The Ghost at the B&B is all three books in one special volume. (At a single book price because we know so many of you already have the first two stories.) And yes, Robin is a friendly ghost. Very friendly.

COVER BLURB

Michael Brooks’ life took an unexpected direction when he found the Taylor Mansion, a two-story Colonial perfect for a Bed & Breakfast. An untenured college professor, he’s suddenly also a successful entrepreneur. And best of all, he met sexy deputy Colin Jefferson and they hit it off in a big way. He’s even made friends with the mansion’s resident ghost. 

Deputy Colin Jefferson is a hometown boy who made good. As a member of the local police force, he serves the community he loves. He’s heard tales about the Taylor Mansion ghost all his life. Now he’s living there with Michael and knows the stories are true. There’s a ghost with a penchant for voyeurism lurking in his bedroom. 

How the ghost came to live in at the B&B is a mystery Michael and Colin need to solve. It’s the only way for their resident spirit to get justice and to find eternal rest. Until they can unearth the murderer, the ghost at the bed and breakfast is a permanent guest.


EXCERPT

I’d barely had time to assemble the makings of the promised light tea when Robin appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Thanks a bunch.”
“For?” I knew exactly what for but I decided to play dumb.
“You use me as the star attraction to get paying guests, and then pretend I don’t exist. I’m deeply hurt. How could you?”
“Because the possibility there might be a ghost is far more intriguing than knowing we do for sure. Satisfied?”
“I guess.” He came into the room and wandered around, looking at this and that before sitting on the corner of the table. “Just think what fun it would be if they woke up in the night and found me tucked snugly between them. Can’t you just hear their screams now?”
I whipped around and fixed him with a stern glare. “Don’t you dare do that. Don’t even think about it.”
“Okay, but it’ll cost you.”
I couldn’t imagine what he had in mind but I just knew I wouldn’t like it. “Cost me how?”
“I want to watch.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Watch what?”
“You and whatshizname getting buck naked and doing the nasty.”
Oh shit! He was serious.
“You know his name is Colin, and are you kidding? Absolutely not. That would be an infringement of our privacy.”
He looked at me with a dismayed expression on his all-too-human face.
“You think that pimping me as the friendly ghost here doesn’t amount to the same thing? You didn’t even bother to ask if I’d mind being exposed to public view. I’m at least entitled to something in the way of compensation.”
I thought he would be if he was alive, but he wasn’t and that put me at a disadvantage in being able to understand him. I conceded the point.
“Fine, but there must be something else that you’d like.”
“I’d like to change history and come back to life. I’d like to punish the bastards who took my life from me. Since neither of those things will ever happen, and I still have needs the same as any other man, I—”
My mouth fell open. He’d never alluded to that before.
“You do? Really? I had no idea. I thought…” Actually, I wasn’t sure what I thought.
“I admit I have my limitations. That’s a given. Even so, I lost my life not my feelings.”
As much as I felt for him in such a predicament, I knew my partner.
“Colin will never agree to you indulging your voyeuristic tendencies by watching his bare ass. And don’t go all peeping Tom on the paying guests, either.”
Robin gave an offhand shrug and then grinned. “That’s easily fixed. Don’t tell him.”

* * *

THE GHOST AT THE B&B

Available at

 iTunes/Apple:  itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1244269027

 Amazon US:   www.amazon.com/dp/B072N5YBWC

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B072N5YBWC

 Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B072N5YBWC

 Amazon AU:  https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B072N5YBWC

 Barnes & Noble: www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ghost-at-the-b-b-kc-kendricks/1126495932

 Rakuten/KOBO:  www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-ghost-at-the-b-b

 Universal link to additional booksellers: https://books2read.com/u/3Lr7wJ

  _*_*_*_*_*_*_


Social media links:
Life through the eyes of my black Lab, Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com
My country life at Holly Tree Manor: hollytreemanor.blogspot.com
Snips and clips on my YouTube channel: KC Kendricks Between the Keys




Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Midweek Tease - Double Deuce by KC Kendricks


June 14, 2017
**Updated 4/2/21 - the MidWeek Tease blog hop is closed.**

I recently spent some time blog surfing and came across The Midweek Tease. Yes, that's pretty self-explanatory. It's a blog hop that posts on Wednesdays. I emailed the lovely Angelica Dawson and she said I was welcome to join in. So I am!

This week I have an excerpt from Double Deuce, the first book in the Ian Coulter's Amethyst Cove series. Enjoy!

*_*_*_*_*_*


The intensity of Rick’s gaze slammed into me.
“What if I told you I could give you something concrete?”

Cold sweat broke out under my arms and across my back. I shivered and sucked in a deep breath. “This isn’t the place to discuss business, Mr. Mohr.”

Comprehension flickered in his pretty eyes. He reached across the table and covered my hands with his. My skin prickled with a new awareness of him. I had the sudden urge to give him about eight inches of concrete, regardless of how bad an idea it had become.

“You’re right, of course.” I got another shock as he raised my knuckles to his lips. “How about a little stroll on the beach? We can kick off our shoes and roll up our pant legs and get our feet wet. Get comfortable with each other. Whataya say?”

A walk outside was better than a hook-up inside. For all I knew, he worked for Earl Fox and had on a wire. This could be a set-up. That’s how paranoid I was about Foxy. I pulled away from the warmth of his touch and kept my voice pitched to where only Rick could hear me.

“We’ll take my car. I’ll bring you back later. And I want you to put your cell phone in your car and leave it.”

“I understand your caution, but it’s unnecessary.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.” I set my hat back on my head, slid off the bench seat, and held my hand out to him. He took it and uncurled his long, lean body out of the booth. I had to look up at him, and I’m no little fellow at five-eleven and one hundred seventy-nine pounds of carefully crafted muscle.

His arms came around me and I realized just how big a man he really was. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered to me, “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Before I could think, much less ask him what the fuck he was talking about, his mouth covered mine. I opened my lips to protest, and his tongue slipped past my poor defenses. Little stars danced behind my closed eyes. My arms slid around his neck.

Familiar heat coiled low in my belly when his tongue danced over mine. My balls tingled as my over-eager cock hardened, swelling relentlessly to an aching fullness. I inhaled, and, under the warm, spicy scent of his cologne, breathed in the rich, earthy tang of an aroused male.

Rick’s big hand cupped my left ass cheek and pressed me tightly to his pelvis. The hard ridge of his dick met mine and I hazed on the rush of testosterone flooding into my blood. I needed to sink my root deep in this man and hear him beg for more.

What was left of my sanity shouted I was in big trouble when his lips trailed fire along my jaw line and down my neck. I ignored it and cupped his balls in front of all witnesses, covering his bulging zipper with my palm. At least eight inches.

His big hands stroked up my back, then down my sides. I leaned over into the booth and grabbed my drink with shaking hands.


What the fuck had I just allowed to happen?

_*_*_*_*_*_

ABOUT Double Deuce

Free spirited Ian Coulter works hard and plays harder. An ex-cop turned private investigator, Ian enjoys meeting new men and making new friends. A night out ends up with one man on the floor at his feet, and another asking for his help. Big trouble’s brewing in little Amethyst Cove, and Ian’s a step behind. He’s quick to see Rick Mohr is the man holding the flare at the end a long, dark tunnel.

Undercover agent Rick Mohr walks a fine line, serving two masters. Insider trading, counterfeit printing plates, and a blown-up yacht have Rick stuck between two Federal agencies, one of which has been compromised. Rick has to discover the mole before it’s too late. When Ian Coulter walks into his life, Rick grabs the chance to salvage his assignment with both hands.

It doesn’t take Ian and Rick long to discover joining forces, and sharing resources, has definite perks - ones not found in any departmental manual.

 DOUBLE DEUCE
Contemporary gay romance
Book I of Ian Coulter’s Amethyst Cove



  
KC Kendricks
mailing list at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/betweenthekeys
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KCKendricks


Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Will we remember her name?

June 13, 2017

I freely admit to being a woman of a certain age. Nothing can take the place of life experiences and decades-long friendships. I've seen a lot of change in my lifetime - some good and some not-so-good. I'm old enough to remember the year 1968. 

You don't remember 1968? The Tet offensive was launched. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. Andy Warhol was shot. Robert Kennedy was assassinated. Nixon was elected president. The unemployment rate was 3%. Helen Gurley Brown was running Cosmopolitan magazine and was one of its editors until her death in 2012. 

You remember Helen Gurley Brown, right? In 1962 she wrote "Sex and the Single Girl." Gurley Brown is the one who said, "Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go everywhere." She also conceded women face obstacles that are gender specific and declared- rightly so - a woman can rise above it. She was a role model for women for decades because she was correct. She struck a chord that rang true across many years - over fifty years. It still rings today albeit in more subtle tones.

And she famously got Burt Reynolds to pose nude in Cosmos. But did this icon to the success and freedom of women ever pose nude herself? I do not think so. 

The celebrity/social media news has been full of stories about a certain celebrity who posted an image of herself sans pants. It caused a ruckus, to be sure. 

I wonder at some of the "feminist" things I've seen in the last year. It seems to me feminism has become all about the flashbulbs and the headlines and who can shout obscenities the loudest. Today's version of feminism is not about continuing to lay firm foundations and embracing longevity, the bigger picture, and the future for our daughters. It's no longer about getting your message across while maintaining your dignity and self-respect. 

Do I think this celebrity has the right to behave the way she wants? Yes, I do, provided she harms only herself. 

So the question becomes did she only do damage to herself, or will her actions bring harm to other women? Will it harm our daughters? 

Maybe, in fifty years, if anyone remembers her name, we'll find out. 

KC Kendricks





Saturday, June 10, 2017

WWW- Open Roads by KC Kendricks

June 11, 2017

I'm participating today in the Weekend Writing Warriors blog hop! I came across it through the My Sexy Saturday blog hop several months ago, but with one thing and another, never really got going with it. Life is like that. Sometimes you get ahead of yourself and need to wait until you catch up.


WWW is a weekly blog hop where authors post eight to ten sentences from a published work or a work in progress. Blog posts are to go live between noon Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday. It's a great way to meet new authors and expand networks. Be sure to visit the linky list to check out all the Weekend Writing Warriors blogs here.  It's good stuff. Don't miss out.

Here are a few sentences from Open Roads, book two in the Men of Marionville series. 


*     *     *     *


 
“Nice car. How far back did the trouble start?”

He leaned inside and pulled the hood release lever. Little lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. “About forty-one years.”

I grinned at him, already liking his sense of humor. His gray gaze held my hazel one captive as I held out my hand to him. “Tyler Phillips, owner-operator.”

Strong fingers closed around mine, holding my hand a moment too long for politeness. “Noel Springs, stranded motorist.”

*    *   *

ABOUT Open Roads:


Tyler Phillips enjoys his small town life. He’ll never get rich working the family business, but he knows there’s more to a man than the size of his bank account. Easing into mid-life, Tyler’s restless for something he can’t find in the little borough of Easton – male companionship.

Noel Springs got caught up in the economic downturn. His job gone, and retirement a lot of years in the future, Noel decides to take a long drive and see some of the country before dedicating himself to finding new employment. The open road is just what he needs right now. 

When his car overheats outside the little town of Easton, Noel discovers the local mechanic is hotter than his radiator, and just as eager to blow off some steam.


OPEN ROADS
Available at Amazon, iTunes, B&N/Nook, and Kobo

KC Kendricks

Thursday, June 8, 2017

The hurrier I go...

June 8, 2017

Have you ever heard the old expression, "The hurrier I go, the behinder I get."? It's been around awhile and some days pretty much sums it all up. It's been in my head for the last few days - as a reminder to pay attention to what I'm doing. It's easy to forget things or make a mistake if one is too hasty. I think it's important to keep both feet on the ground, in a manner of speaking.

I've been anxiously awaiting the return of My Sexy Saturday, but it doesn't appear that's going to happen any time soon. I fear that may mean there's bad news there. I hope not, though. 

So what to do if it doesn't come back? Should I contact other participants and see if I can organize something over at Saturday Evening Romance? I'm definitely on the fence about that. I'm not sure I'd want the same 7/7/7 format because some of the participants can't count. (Or simply refuse to abide by the "rules.") How difficult can it be to set up a linky? I've never tried.

 Then there is the Weekend Writing Warriors blog hop to consider. I did that once and got okay results. What should I do? 

Maybe I need to buckle down and get with my writing buddy about getting The Ghost at the B&B and The Escort launched. There's also work to do on a July newsletter if I want to keep that going. Let's not forget I now have two works-in-progress as well as the formatting to finish on No One But You and Shining Victory. I think that my subconscious knows how special the Levi and Stacy stories are to me and knows I'm having trouble with the notion of sharing them again. 

Yes, there is a lot to accomplish. I know that if I try and rush through my list just so I can launch a book on a certain date, I won't be happy with the result. And a happy me is a happy writer. 

Thanks for your patience. More books really are coming soon. 

 KC Kendricks

My home on the web- Between the Keys: 
Visit my bookshelf at: 

Social media links:
Life through the eyes of my black Lab, Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com
My country life at Holly Tree Manor: hollytreemanor.blogspot.com

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Vacation come, vacation go.

June 3, 2017

Vacation come, vacation go. Yes, it's now the second Saturday of my spring vacation. That means the vacation is over and we've moved on to a regular weekend. There's laundry and cooking to do. Ho-hum.

Last year I tempted fate in my end-of-vacation blog, and fate decided to bite me. I dared to say I wondered what vacation 2017 would bring. I guess I know now.

With all the life changes in the last year, I truly hoped for some quiet time. (Read that I wanted to hide from everyone.) Unfortunately, on Sunday, May 28, my stepfather found out I was on vacation and on Monday, May 29, he called me at daybreak to say he "thought" he needed to go to the hospital. I told him to call an ambulance. Instead, he drove himself to the emergency room. They kept him all of about an hour and gave him instructions to call his primary care physician. He was back home before I'd taken shower. I knew there was nothing wrong with him and he only wanted attention. He's been like this ever since my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. After two years of this attention-begging behavior, I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted with this man. My mother married him, I did not.

That's not to say the entire vacation was a bust. No, we didn't get to go anywhere, not even a day trip, but we had some good moments just relaxing on the patio and playing with Deuce. Deuce had his annual checkup with booster shots and the vet proclaimed him to be "great." Of course he's great. He's Deuce!

The spousal unit baked me a birthday cake which turned out very well. He can open a box and add eggs and water with the best of them. The trouble happened when he added peanut butter to a can of buttercream frosting. The end result was well worth the cleanup.  I may even have cake for breakfast today.

It's back to work on Monday. I'm trying to be philosophical about burning five vacation days that contained very little mental health rest, but it's not really working. My fear is this week is a harbinger of things to come. Early retirement isn't looking so good. I need the escape into the day job to breathe. Trust me when I say I NEVER thought I'd say that! I've been obsessing about the day I no longer need to go to work every day and now here we are. It's not the least bit amusing. (Well, maybe a little if  you're outside looking in.)

And I do know something else. Next year for my spring vacation, I'm going to leave home and I'm not taking my cell phone, just my laptop. Maybe next year. 

KC
www.kckendricks.com