He’s Crafty
Thank you so much to Love Bytes for hosting my new holiday novella and huge thanks to Davidson King for inviting me to join the Once Upon A Story collection. I know folks feel all kinds of ways about the holidays—myself included—but there’s just something about the feel of the stories that come out this time of year, especially the queer ones, that hit just right. Whether it’s found family, hurt/comfort, or holiday magic, I’ve managed to find so many holiday stories to love…and I’ve found a love for writing them as well.
My first attempt was a wacky tale called Father F’in’ Christmas, which is set in a world with Intervention Specialists in the Afterlife. I asked the folks in my reader group to give me some random story elements and I managed to fit them all in. They gave me things like “a fire fighter who is afraid of heights, a cat lady in fuzzy slippers, and a gargoyle shifter. It was a lot of fun and I hope to do that sort of a story again. A couple of years later, I had a trad pubbed book (now self pubbed) called A Peace Offering that featured two rival crafty guys that meet at the Dickens Family Christmas Fair in San Francisco. It’s a real-life even that I love, and writing the story made me so happy, I decided that in the future I would write more stories about artisans. Mr. Ro and I love to go to art and craft fairs of all kinds in the Bay Area, and I even had the opportunity to have a vendor table at the Menagerie and Oddities Fair a couple of times. So fun. But the Treasure Island Festivals were some of my favorites. The views from the island in the middle of the San Francisco Bay are breathtaking, and on a clear, sunny day, you can see for miles. When I wrote A Peace Offering, I’d already planned to write another story about artisans, and this project was the perfect opportunity.
Now, I am not a super crafty person. Mr. Ro is, he paints and makes acrylic and wooden pens. My daughter knits and crochets. She’s even made herself clothes! My youngest kid is a musician and writes their own songs. My mom used to paint ceramics, she sewed costumes, and she’s made the most incredible quilts I’ve ever seen. Me? I can crochet in a straight line but that’s about it. I’m working on a paint-by-numbers right now that looks fine…if I don’t have my glasses on! But I am in awe of the art that folks create. I especially love when I see folks repurpose things to make new and exciting things! We’ve got a couple of creatures made from pieces of metal. I have a clock made from a vinyl record that has an overlay to make it look like the half-finished Death Star. And one of my beloved readers even brought me a wood cutting with a design of Jason Voorhees burned into it. I’m fascinated by the creativity people have.
Doug and Luther have different styles and mediums, but they both use art as a way to process all that life throws at them. Doug sews, paints, bakes…he’s a makeup artist and all-around talented guy. I volunteer with my local shelter and have rescued pets from various organizations, and I love all the creative things people make for our furbabies, so Doug I made sure Doug went hog-wild with his Goth Dog Accessories.
Luther is disabled and uses his downtime while recuperating honing his painting skills. He’s a fan of fantasy; the fae, dragons, etc, and he paints intricate woodsy magical scenes on wood cuttings. I got the idea from that gift from my reader, plus a local artist I love, Bruja_Eyes, painted a fantastic piece on a wood cutting. It’s an American traditional-style finch flying in front of a coffin and above it says “shit.” I love it. It hangs in my bathroom. But I also picked up some super cute wood paintings of ghosties in the woods at a shop in Portland recently and that sold me on the idea. There’s just something about a big burly military hero who has a softer, arty farty side.
I’d love to see some of your favorite crafty folks, and if you are a crafty one, message me with their links! Hit me up on Instagram or Facebook, both @rlmerrillauthor, and show me all the crafty goodness. I hope you enjoy Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice and consider getting out and doing your gift-buying from local artisans and small businesses. Stay Tuned for more…
From the author of the award-winning novel You Can Do Magic: Carnival of Mysteries and Publishers Weekly’s BookLife quarterfinalist Earthquake Ethan comes a heartwarming holiday tale of found family and sacrifice. Two wildly opposite veterans connect over a shared love of art, rescue dogs, and a very special foster child.
Doug Cross spent the first half of his life attempting to appease his career-military father. After a stint in the Air Force and a successful career in cybersecurity, he’s traveled the world in search of fulfillment. He believes he’s found it in the San Francisco Bay Area with a room on an urban farm, a new spot in a goth punk band, and the support of his extended family. He’s always been a helper by nature, so when he learns that his housemate’s dog rescue is in trouble, he creates goth-influenced dog accessories to sell at the Treasure Island Arts and Crafts Fair in hopes of raising much-needed funds for the pups. He also lends a helping hand to his neighbor at the fair, and the two have a potential meet-cute…that quickly fizzles, leaving Doug wondering why his charming personality failed to make a new friend.
Luther Sorenson is a disabled Marine veteran who is struggling to keep his family afloat—and himself literally on his feet. His sister convinces him to sell his wood paintings at the fair as a way to supplement his income. He’s a single foster dad to eight-year-old Mila and is desperate to give her everything she deserves. His body doesn’t always cooperate, however, and having to ask for help from the goth guy next door at the art market could have potentially been humiliating. But Doug makes it easy, and Luther can’t stop thinking about him in between markets. Doug seems like the kind of person Luther could add to his support network. Not to mention, his superb makeup skills and the way he rocks a utilikilt have Luther smitten in no time.
A brunch “business meeting” turns into adult summer camp, and Doug and Luther embark on a tentative courtship while navigating the challenges of parenthood and owning a small business. But as the seasons change, the two men find in each other what they’ve always desired: love, family, and acceptance. On the night of the winter solstice, will they choose to combine forces and step into the unknown together?
Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice is a part of the multi-author series Once Upon a Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook’s Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.
About the Series:
Once Upon A Goth Dog Solstice is a part of the multi-author series Once Upon a Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook’s Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.
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R.L. is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour:
Eight-year-old Mila Saavedra stood in the doorway of Luther’s room with a stuffed dinosaur hanging limply from one hand. Her other hand was pressed against her stomach.
Luther turned over and sat on his yoga mat with his arm out, gesturing for her to come closer. The brief seconds she hesitated to move toward the mat gutted him. Once she settled on a course of action, she approached him, not front on but coming around the mat to stand nearer his side.
“What happened in your dream?”
Mila sat cross-legged and folded her hands in her lap with Terry D’actyl against her body. It was still tough to get her to make eye contact, but Luther knew better than to push that issue. It hadn’t worked with him as a young man, and he was determined not to make the same mistakes as the foster parents he’d lived with.
“I went to school and no one was there to greet us. I went to my classroom and no one was there. No one came to take us to lunch. I sat at my desk all day, and no one came. And at the end of the day…” She ducked her head, and Luther heard the shaky breath she took in.
“At the end of the day, I come to get you.”
She shook her head.
Luther let out a breath. As much as he hated to revisit his past, Mila’s social worker, Miss Vanessa, told him from the start that building rapport with his foster daughter would likely require him to find ways to connect with her around their shared experiences.
The whole reason he’d become a foster parent was to help other kids avoid having those kinds of shared experiences.
“I used to have dreams like that, too.”
She lifted her head long enough to look at him from under her thick bangs, and then she looked at his feet. “What did you do?”
Luther definitely didn’t want to get into all of the negative ways he’d coped as a kid. That was in the past. But he could tell her about the ways he coped with life now.
“When I have bad dreams now, I exercise, or I go work in my studio. Those are things that make me feel better.” He let out a breath and thought how much he wished he could spend the day with Mila, but he’d signed on to work the art market on Treasure Island one weekend a month, and today was his first day. He’d gone over and parked his trailer in his spot the previous night, so he could scope the place out. He’d been a little nervous about registering to become a vendor, but once he’d stepped out of his truck and breathed in the San Francisco Bay breeze, he’d allowed himself the briefest moment of peace. The view of the San Francisco Bay at sunset was breathtaking, the weather was forecast to be mild, and he’d finally have a chance to see what—if any—kind of money he could make selling his wood paintings.
It had been his sister’s idea for him to try selling the art he usually reserved as gifts for his closest friends. Violet helped him research vendor opportunities, got him registered for this one, and helped him get everything set up to run a business. She volunteered to stay with Mila on the days he’d be at the fair. If he hadn’t already known how incredible his sister was, well…now he knew she was an absolute gift.
“I like to fix things,” Mila said quietly. She reached over and tentatively touched a tiny hole in the hem of his sweatpants. “My tummy feels better when things are all right.”
Luther’s own stomach clenched at her words. “Mine does, too. What do you think would make things all right this morning?”
She glanced at him under her bangs. “I wish I could sew,” she nearly whispered. “I could fix your pants.”
Luther wanted to reach out and take her hand, but Miss Vanessa had suggested he wait for her to engage with him when she was ready. She’d been with him for six months now, and they’d made huge progress, but he was determined to do everything right so she could have a chance to heal. He wanted to make things safe for her, give her a place to find herself.
“These old things?” He tugged at the cuff and showed her the inside. She gasped at the barely attached threads. “Don’t you worry about these. I’ve had them since before I was in the Marines.” There was a hitch in his voice as he mentioned his previous calling. He cleared his throat. “If you tried to sew these holes, the material would likely disintegrate in your fingers. Auntie Violet will be up soon. She’s an expert at sewing.”
That got him a timid smile. “Would she teach me?”
“I’m sure she will. She taught me.”
Her eyes bugged out. “You know how to sew?”
Luther let out an exaggerated sigh. “Marines know everything, remember?”
She groaned and squeezed Terry tight. Then she turned him around and pointed to a seam on the critter’s back that was barely hanging on. “Do you think I can fix this?”
Poor Terry had been through it. Luther had gently tried to replace him, but every morning he’d find Mila’s arms wrapped around the beat-up pterodactyl. He was the only toy she’d been able to bring with her when Miss Vanessa took her from her unsafe situation, and Luther knew the two of them had seen some shit together.
“I do. Now,” Luther said, looking at where she still had a hand on her stomach. “What can we do to fix your tummy?”
She tilted her head as though it was a difficult decision, but Luther knew her answer.
“Pancakes?”
“As if it would be anything else. Come on,” he said, knowing that cutting his exercise time short would bite him in the ass later, but he was determined to give the world to this little girl, no matter the price he paid.
He managed to push himself up off the floor without cursing and he took it slow as he straightened his back, stretching his arms above his head.
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