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I Do Two is out!
I'm delighted to say that charity anthology I Do Two is now available in pdf here!
As I understand it, alternative e-formats will be available in the next day or two, and the print version in a couple of weeks.
All profits from this anthology will be donated to the Lambda Legal Defense to fight Prop 8 in support of marriage equality for all - so if you only buy one anthology thisweek year, please consider making it this one!
There are 22 fabulous stories from well-known authors such as Alex Beecroft, Charlie Cochrane, James Buchanan, Lee Rowan and Lenore Black, making it a bit of a snip at $6.99!
And yes, there's even a story from me:
Aim Higher
He’s sitting on my bed again when I wake up this morning, all bulging muscles, stupid little wings and that pathetic bow and arrow. “Well, you can bugger off, for a start!” I tell him, annoyed.
He doesn’t, of course. He’s got a hide like a bloody rhino.
“Language, Simone! Does your mother know you talk like that?” And then he looks like he wants to bite his tongue out, which cheers me up a bit. I mean, yeah, I’m still a bit hacked off with mum for dumping me here with Dad so I won’t scare that new bloke of hers off, but I’m not a little kid. I can handle it. In four years time I’ll be old enough to get married, not that I’m planning to. Ever.
It’s not all her fault, though. I mean, I know it must be a bit weird, having a daughter who talks to Greek gods. Well, a Greek god. Eros, or Cupid, or whatever he decides to call himself these days.
Lately, he’s been going by Eric. I used to like calling him that, I thought it suited him—stupid git, stupid name. But then that vampire show with all the sex in started, the one that Dad doesn’t know I watch, and now everyone thinks Eric is sexy. The name, I mean, not the stupid Greek git. Nobody but me can see him.
Lucky them.
“Anyway, I’ve been thinking, Simone,” he starts off brightly, settling himself down cross-legged. It doesn’t seem to bother him that his stupid girly skirt is now gaping wide open and if I look in his direction, which I don’t, obviously, I’ll probably see his bits, which, ewwwww. “New plan of attack.”
“No!” I tell him. “No plan of attack! Look, why don’t you save your stupid arrows for people who want boyfriends?”
“Look,” he says in that patronising tone grown-ups always use when they’re about to talk all over you. “I must have been sent down to you for a reason.”
Yeah, I think. Your mum couldn’t stand you either.
As I understand it, alternative e-formats will be available in the next day or two, and the print version in a couple of weeks.
All profits from this anthology will be donated to the Lambda Legal Defense to fight Prop 8 in support of marriage equality for all - so if you only buy one anthology this
There are 22 fabulous stories from well-known authors such as Alex Beecroft, Charlie Cochrane, James Buchanan, Lee Rowan and Lenore Black, making it a bit of a snip at $6.99!
And yes, there's even a story from me:
Aim Higher
He’s sitting on my bed again when I wake up this morning, all bulging muscles, stupid little wings and that pathetic bow and arrow. “Well, you can bugger off, for a start!” I tell him, annoyed.
He doesn’t, of course. He’s got a hide like a bloody rhino.
“Language, Simone! Does your mother know you talk like that?” And then he looks like he wants to bite his tongue out, which cheers me up a bit. I mean, yeah, I’m still a bit hacked off with mum for dumping me here with Dad so I won’t scare that new bloke of hers off, but I’m not a little kid. I can handle it. In four years time I’ll be old enough to get married, not that I’m planning to. Ever.
It’s not all her fault, though. I mean, I know it must be a bit weird, having a daughter who talks to Greek gods. Well, a Greek god. Eros, or Cupid, or whatever he decides to call himself these days.
Lately, he’s been going by Eric. I used to like calling him that, I thought it suited him—stupid git, stupid name. But then that vampire show with all the sex in started, the one that Dad doesn’t know I watch, and now everyone thinks Eric is sexy. The name, I mean, not the stupid Greek git. Nobody but me can see him.
Lucky them.
“Anyway, I’ve been thinking, Simone,” he starts off brightly, settling himself down cross-legged. It doesn’t seem to bother him that his stupid girly skirt is now gaping wide open and if I look in his direction, which I don’t, obviously, I’ll probably see his bits, which, ewwwww. “New plan of attack.”
“No!” I tell him. “No plan of attack! Look, why don’t you save your stupid arrows for people who want boyfriends?”
“Look,” he says in that patronising tone grown-ups always use when they’re about to talk all over you. “I must have been sent down to you for a reason.”
Yeah, I think. Your mum couldn’t stand you either.