Good morning, y'all! I'm having a great time here in Atlanta at GayRomLit, and hope to have pictures for you soon. Also attending GRL is a good friend that I met back when we shared a publishing date.
I'm very pleased to have Michael Rupured on the site again. Thank you, Michael, for joining us. The blog is yours!
Published: A Year Later
Thanks so much, Eden, for having me back to your lovely blog to talk about After Christmas Eve, my new release from MLR Press. It’s nice to visit with you and your readers again.
My first novel came out the same day as Naked Tails. I wouldn’t say we’ve been joined at the hip ever since, but I certainly count Eden among my inner circle of writer pals. Besides, we’re practically neighbors!
To celebrate the release of my second novel, I’m giving away 10 copies (ebooks) through an 11-stop blog hop. To enter, comment before midnight, October 25, 2013 on this post (#4 in the hop) or any of my posts on the eleven participating blogs. Be sure to include an email address.
Becoming a published author is, hands down, the coolest thing I’ve ever done. The December 2012 release of my first novel kept me on Cloud Nine for months. With the October 11 release of After Christmas Eve by MLR Press, I’m happy to report that the excitement hasn’t diminished one iota.
Publishing my first novel was educational. Writing After Christmas Eve and taking it through the process allowed me to put into practice what I learned about writing and the publishing process the first go around. I’m grateful to my editor, Christie, and everyone at MLR Press for all the tender loving care.
Philip Potter plays an important supporting role in my first novel, Until Thanksgiving. Readers loved him. Me too, so much so I made him the main character in After Christmas Eve, a prequel, set thirty years earlier in 1966. His story came with quite a few surprises, even to me.
Here’s the blurb:
As Philip Potter wraps up his last minute shopping on Christmas Eve, 1966, James Walker, his lover of six years, takes his life. Unaware of what waits for him at home, Philip drops off gifts to the homeless shelter, an act of generosity that later makes him a suspect in the murder of a male prostitute.
Two men drive yellow Continentals. One is a killer, with the blood of at least six hustlers on his hands. Both men have secrets. And as Philip is about to discover, James had kept secrets, too. But James wasn’t trying to frame him for murder…
*This is the fourth of eleven stops on the After Christmas Eve Blog Hop. Excerpts appear in serial form along the hop, beginning with my post at Shira Anthony's.
Excerpt #4 of 11
Philip watched him fill line after line with a feathery script that was without a doubt the most beautiful penmanship he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat to get the boy’s attention. No luck. The pen flew across the page of the spiral notebook so fast, Philip expected to see smoke. He cleared his throat again, adding a little cough for good measure.
The boy looked up, startled. His ash blond hair might have been parted on the side earlier in the day, but now fell over his forehead, almost concealing the violet eyes that anchored his symmetrical face. “Gosh! I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you there.”
“I admire your focus. What are you writing?”
The boy blushed. “It’s my journal. One day I’m going to cash in on all this pain and suffering with a runaway bestseller about my life on the street.”
“Oh?” Anger at the boy’s ignorant parents rippled through him. Philip wondered what the parents who produced and abandoned the boys who ended up here were thinking. Here was a young man that any parent should be proud to stand beside. How could one small thing provoke such a callous response? “I bet your story will be a fascinating read.”
“Yes, sir. One day you’ll see Daniel Bradbury on the library shelf between Isaac Asimov and Truman Capote. That’s me, Daniel Bradbury.”
Philip extended his hand. “I’m delighted to meet you, Daniel Bradbury. Philip Potter.”
The young man grasped his hand in a strong grip and pumped it twice. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. Can I help you with something?”
Mr. Potter? He winced. The title was appropriate, he supposed, even if he still felt more eighteen than thirty. He placed the shopping bag of transistor radios hidden beneath cheerful wrapping paper and color-coordinated bows on the desk. “For you, and anyone else here tonight. Merry Christmas.”
“Gee thanks, Mr. Potter.” Daniel reached into the bag and pulled out a package. Then he called to the boys playing Chinese checkers, “Hey guys, presents!”
The game broke up in a clamor of falling chairs and bouncing marbles as the young men rushed to grab a gift from the bag. Philip stood back, enjoying the excited ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhs’ the radios elicited from them. Yes, Philip thought. This is shaping up to be the best Christmas ever.
Continued on 10/17 on Andrew Grey's site.
Buy link: MLR Press
Web site: http://rupured.com