Hi! I’m so happy to be here celebrating the release of my first cozy mystery, The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean. As with many of my books, people have told me they love the title. That delights me, because I’m a title freak. I think authors can be taught most any writing skill – blurbs, taglines, even the dreaded synopsis, but titles? Not as much. It’s either a passion or it’s not. For me, it is. Maybe it’s because my day job is in advertising and for years I’ve had to come up with headlines. Headlines are a lot like titles. They have to encapsulate something essential about the book while attracting readers and getting them to pay attention.
Titles are organic to me. If I don’t have a title I love, it’s actually hard for me to write the book, and sometimes the title precedes the book and helps suggest the plot. For example, Hearts and Flour that I rereleased this past February was literally written out of a love for that title. I made it up one day when I was thinking of possible stories for Valentine’s Day and those words popped into my mind. The plot unfurled from the title. The book Volley Balls became the harbinger of a whole naming frenzy with everyone I knew suggesting Balls names I could use. I had a wonderful time creating my Knight, Knave, Prince, Lord, and Fool titles for the Love in Laguna series.
When I started writing The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean I didn’t have a title. I basically knew my hero would be a historical researcher from an imaginary university called Middlemark in San Luis Obispo, California, and he’d investigate “histories mysteries”, but I didn’t know which mystery I wanted him to investigate. I did lots of research and settled on the question of who was Shakespeare really? Once I had that idea it shaped everything! The plot, the mystery, and, of course, the title. For the second book in the series, I decided I wanted to focus on the central coast wine country, which is close to San Luis. The title leaped out and became The Case of the Voracious Vintner. The title came before the story. You’ll get to read that book early next year.
I hope you enjoy The Case of the Sexy Shakespearean – title and all.
traveled out along his nerves from the soothing touch of Blaise’s hand until
the hairs on his arm weren’t the only things standing up. Why did Blaise just
turn his whole existence upside down? When Blaise was around, Llewellyn wanted
things it was stupid for him to want. Things that only happened to the special,
lucky guys. Forever things.
spite of himself, he sighed and slowly lowered his head to Blaise’s shoulder.
dropped his cheek against Llewellyn’s hair. For minutes they just sat like
that, their beer bottles dripping on the coffee table. Weirdly, it was the most
peaceful moment Llewellyn had experienced in… at least days. Since that fateful
night when he’d first seen Blaise dancing.
Blaise slipped a hand under Llewellyn’s chin and turned his head toward him.
Almost like he was stealing his breath, he moved his lips ever so slowly toward
Llewellyn’s, pausing a half inch away. Llewellyn’s lips quivered, the scent of
the beer they’d both drunk filling his head. Dear God, could he climax just
from the anticipation of kissing Blaise?
finally their lips touched. Softer than Marie’s fur.
bam! Blaise grabbed Llewellyn’s head
and devoured his mouth like a five-course banquet menu.
silly analogy used in novels, that people went up in flames—not silly anymore.
Llewellyn’s nervous system overloaded before Blaise’s tongue had even explored
the deeper recesses in his mouth. He heard himself moaning and whimpering.
Embarrassing, but he couldn’t stop.
brain knew there was something off about Blaise. Some truth that needed
exploring. He didn’t care. He wanted to delude himself all the way to the
bedroom. He’d trade his greed to know the answers for a night in Blaise’s arms.
Psyched to read an m/m based in SLO…does the Madonna Inn make an appearance? (I’ve never stayed there, but it seems so quirky and cool…)