Quiet for a Reason

I've been a little busy. The Death in Double Mocha e-book went out to the backers of the Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse Kickstarter campaign who ordered it.

Also, I'm finishing up Queer Eye for the Super Guy for release next week.

Once that's done, I desperately need to weed my flower beds. The dandelions are going boinkers this spring.

I will have some news next week. (I hope.)

Are Things Finally Back to Normal?

With much relief, I sent Death in Double Mocha to my formatter around five a.m. this morning. Now that I'm awake and had some caffeine, I'll get some breakfast and turn back to Queer Eye for the Super Guy.

There's a sense of satisfaction in completing a project, which helps my mood. Plus, DH has two lacrosse games tonight (he is the timekeeper for the city's high school teams, so I have a few hours of quiet time. And I love writing Jeremy!

Plus, there's the stretch goal short stories to finish for the Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse Kickstarter campaign.

But I'm definitely ready to move on to a project that's not related to the fucking pandemic or last year's familial loss. While the next one will be a Justice Thalia story, it's too short to publish a snippet on the blog.

So there's either something from the Books of Apep or the sooper sekrit project I've been doodling with as a palate cleanser to post here. (I never thought I'd write paranormal women's fiction, but there you go.)

Or I might set up a Patreon for the sooper sekrit project.

I do plan to set up an online store at some point this year. Elaina Lee designed some cute Soccer Moms t-shirts for me.

Yeah, I think things are finally getting back to normal at Angry Sheep Publishing. And for that, I'm very grateful.

Update on Releases

I tried to finish both Death in Double Mocha and Queer Eye for the Super Guy last month. Getting sick at the beginning of March set me back nearly 50K words for the year to date. In my attempts to catch up, my back started giving me fits.

Now before anyone starts on my case about exercise, I do get up frequently for breaks, and I take Princess Bella for may short walks during the day.

No, my problem is stress. And when I'm stressed, it settles in my hips and lower back. The teeny, tiny tendons and ligaments torque, the muscles spasm, and anything short of deep pressure point techniques doesn't relieve the pain. And there's no point of getting a pressure point massage if I don't deal with the source of the stress.

Therefore, I called Amazon on Monday and politely begged them to let me push back the release of Queer Eye for the Super Guy for a month, and Cecilia, the representative I spoke with graciously allowed me to do so.

Those of you who preordered Queer Eye should have received a notice from Amazon by now about the delay. The last thing I want to do is put out a half-assed product.

As of this writing, I have roughly three and a half chapters left to write on Death in Double Mocha. It will of course be sent to the Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse Kickstarter campaign first, but it will be available to the general public in June.

Queer Eye for the Super Guy is a little over a third of the way finished, but the idea's have been in my head for so long that the writing is going fairly quickly. It will be released on May 12th.

 

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 7

Here's your last taste of Queer Eye for the Super Guy! See y'all on the other side!

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Jeremy relaxed against the back of the bench in his booth at La Churro’s and sipped his mango margarita. Today’s lunch with Elaine went far better than he expected. She already knew all his business procedures. Leonardo would spend the next two weeks walking through beginning and ending of the day routines with her.

Plus, she had no problem with a probationary period, though she negotiated Jeremy from his desired ninety days to sixty. If everything worked okay with Elaine, Leonardo would start cutting back on his time in the salon, and he’d share Jeremy’s chair for those clients they didn’t want to or couldn’t give up for various reasons. Leonardo could then focus on his design work.

Harri plopped down on the bench across from Jeremy, with her briefcase she used for court. Not a good sign. Without a word, she poured herself a margarita from the pitcher and downed half of it in two gulps before she scowled at him.

“Are you trying to punish me for ignoring your business interests over the past two years?” she said.

“Contract reviews aren’t anything new,” he protested.

“It is when Molly does a better job of pitching addendums than me.” Harri grabbed the pitcher and refilled her glass.

“You sound pissed,” Jeremy commented. “Is she insisting on only girl M&Ms in her dressing room for the show?”

“No, the kid should be going to law school, not screwing around with clothing design.” Harri took another gulp of margarita. “Please tell me you ordered queso and extra chips.”

The last time Harri plowed through alcohol and junk food like this was after she had fallen in love with Tim Canyon but didn’t want to admit it. She was worried about something more than Nix getting into some kind of trouble the TV people.

“Is you representing both me and the kid going to be an issue between us?” Jeremy grinned. “I can always go to Brick Montgomery at Bryson Gaither.”

At the mention of the attorney at a rival firm, Harri’s hand tightened on her glass. For a split second, it looked like she’d waste good tequila by tossing her drink in his face. Instead, she changed her mind and sipped her drink. At least, she’d stopped gulping it. Jeremy didn’t think he could handle a drunk Harri tonight. Neither Dopinder or any of his cousins would forgive her if she puked in one of their taxis.

“If it comes down to that, you’ll all need to alternate counsel.”

“I was joking about the kid.” Jeremy reached for the pitcher and topped off his own glass. “Does she really have a problem with me?”

“I don’t know if Bernhardt is doing this on purpose, but three of the judges and one of the designer contestants are Winters and Franklin clients.”

Jeremy whistled under his breath. Damn, that really put his sisters and Susan in an awkward position. But he knew for Harri, it wasn’t about the money. It was about doing the right thing for her clients.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked.

“We’re going to have a meeting with all the clients involved Friday night.” She stopped at the sight of La Churro’s owner Mateo delivering their queso and chips. “Ese, why are you waiting tables again?”

“I’m only waiting on your table, Winters,” the big man said dryly. “And it’s only to keep you from poaching any more of my staff.”

“Whoa.” Harri held up her hands. “Janna’s still working here during the evenings.”

“But she’s not available for the lunch shift thanks to you.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure if Mateo was really angry or just giving Harri a hard time. But when she glared at Jeremy, he shrugged. “I told him you were joining me when he asked where Leonardo was.”

Mateo pulled out an order pad from his apron pocket. “What can I get you two? And by the way, Winters, you’d better give me the same tip you give my staff.”

“How long are you going to make me pay for hiring Janna?” Harri asked coolly.

“Until I can find a waitress as good as her or I can train one.” Mateo smiled politely at her.

“I’ll have the three enchilada plate,” Jeremy interjected before Harri did something stupid. Mateo wasn’t like his old man back when the girls were in law school. He had no trouble kicking out unruly customers.

“I’ll have the beef taco platter. Crunchy, please.” Harri handed her menu to Mateo as did Jeremy.

Once the owner strode back to the kitchen area, Jeremy eyed Harri over his margarita glass. “I swear you have a natural talent for creating problems where none exist.” “It’s not my fault people make the decisions they do,” she grumbled.

“Have you had Timmy and Arthur do a background check on this Dale Bernhardt?” Jeremy dipped a tortilla chip in the warm queso.

“Arthur’s working on it.” Harri paid too much attention selecting her own chip. “Did his paramour let something slip with you during their phone call?”

“I only get the impression he’s the latest boytoy.” Jeremy ate his chip while he reviewed his conversation with Mel this morning. “You think he may have seduced them on purpose?”

“You’re going to call me paranoid if I do.”

“Shit.” Jeremy leaned back against the back of the booth and regarded Harri. “I wish it was just you. But I suppose some idiot had to pick up where Trubble left off.”

“I almost wish the genetic testing came back negative.” Harri dunked another chip in the gooey cheese.

Jeremy blinked. There was only one reason Harri would be acting this squirrely. “You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” She said around a mouthful of chip and queso.

He pulled out his phone and texted his question.


         You know who killed Trubble?


Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the message before she turned her phone face down.

“Yes.” She shoved another chip and queso into her mouth.

“And?” He stared at her incredulously.

She slowly chewed and swallowed before she said, “Remember ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’?”

“If Trubble knew about me, his killer sure as hell does,” Jeremy hissed.

“Which was why I was really hoping you and the kids would be going to Los Angeles to record the damn show when I first looked at the paperwork.” She sighed and took another sip of her margarita.

“Harri—” He couldn’t yell at her like when they were kids. They were in a public place. Lord only knew how many eyes were on Harri at any given moment.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Come back to the Lechuza Building with me. I’ll show you everything.”

Jeremy almost said no out of spite, but something said Harri would only make this offer once. Someone considered Byron Trubble, who had been dangerous in his own right, worth kidnapping and killing. If that person wouldn’t stop at using a disturbed local attorney to break Trubble out of a supermax prison and shooting in the back of the head, they wouldn’t hesitate to murder everyone Jeremy cared about.

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 6

I'm feeling much better now. But I also discovered editing and brain fuzz doesn't mix. So I'm still making last passes through a couple of paperbacks before they are released.

But it's officially sprint and life is good! Here's the next unedited chapter of Queer Eye for the Supper Guy!

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A knock on Harri’s office door interrupted her and Susan from ripping through the provisional contract Dale Bernhardt’s assistant had emailed.

Come in,” Harri yelled.

Molly poked her head around the edge of the door. “Oh, you guys are busy. I can come back.”

“What did your mother do this time?” Susan asked.

Molly paused. “It’s not her. This time.”

“Then come on in.” Harri waved the young super into the office. “We could use a break.”

“Well—” Molly stepped inside and closed the office door. A sheaf of papers were in her hand. “This is matter for my lawyers.”

She crossed the room and split her sheaf in two before she handed each portion to each attorney. “Before you start yelling at me, I haven’t signed anything. I’ve been invited to be a judge on a new reality series, but I told the producer I would have to have the offer reviewed by my attorney before I could give him an answer.”

The letterhead was Dale Burnhardt’s production company as Harri expected. The surprising part was Molly’s notes in the margins.

“When did you get this?” Susan asked.

“Yesterday.” Molly walked over to couch and perched on the edge. “I did as you guys and Aisha taught me. I listened to Dale’s pitch before I said he needed to send me a copy of the paperwork for you guys.”

Harri looked from the initial offer. “Why not have it sent directly to us?”

Molly winced. “Please don’t be mad. I’ve been helping Patty with LSAT flashcards while Arthur watches Grace.” Patty Ames, the firm’s paralegal, was scheduled to take the April test. She wasn’t happy with her October score on the law school entrance exam.

Panic flashed through Harri. “You’ve been leaving your mother alone?”

“Hell, no,” Molly bit out. “Patty comes up to Aisha’s loft. And Monica Reinhold is not my mom. She’s a supervillain witness to a murder who I’m guarding.” She slashed her hand through the air. “That’s the extent of our relationship.”

Harri leaned her elbow on her desk as she regarded the superhero. “Who’s with her right now?”

Molly almost pouted over the question about her common sense, but she regained control of her emotions. “Steve’s watching her while I’m down here.”

Harri relaxed a little bit. “Thank you, Molly. I don’t like having Monica here any more than you do, but we don’t have any place more secure where we can keep her. I don’t want her to end up dead.”

“Are you ever going to tell me who shot her?” Molly asked.

“For your own safety, no.” Harri waited for an explosion from the younger woman.

“I figured out on my own it’s the same person that murdered Trubble.” Molly’s eyes glittered more than usual. She was pissed as hell about being kept in the dark.

Harri walked over the couch and sat next to the superhero. “Which is exactly why I’m not telling you. I couldn’t handle it if the killer came after you.”

“May I continue?” Molly’s frosty tone indicated she wasn’t going to accept Harri’s reasons.

“Please do,” Susan said as she took a seat on the second couch. From the mischievous expression on her face, Harri was going to get an earful when Molly left the office.

“I read the offer letter and the contract—” Molly held up the palm of her hand briefly. “Before you start chewing a new one, I highlighted the parts I didn’t understand. But I did some research on the numbers some of these other reality shows bring in. With certain supers and designers as judges, potential new supers looking to build their fan base, and Dale Bernhardt’s name on the project, he can do a lot better on the offer he sent me.”

Molly grinned and lowered her hand. “Plus, it broke on the tabloids this morning Dale and Ultramegaperson are an item.”

Harri flopped against the back of the couch and rubbed her temples. “How fucking convenient!”

“Harri!” Susan snapped. “We do not use that kind of language in regard to our clients.” From the hot pink flushing Susan’s face, Harri needed to do some backpedaling.

“I’m sorry to both of you.” Harri straightened. “I just though Ultra had more sense—”

“Than I do,” Molly retorted.

“Molly, Burnhardt’s pulled in three of Winters and Franklin’s clients into this program of his,” Susan said. “Representing you in this matter may be a moot point.”

The superhero turned to Harri. “You’d chose one of the other clients over me? I was one of the first—”

“Slow down.” Harri grabbed Molly’s closest flailing hand before she accidentally poked out Harri’s eye with her wicked, glittery nails. “We need to talk to the others.”

“But according to the Mojave Revised Civil Code, if we all agree to Winters and Franklin representing us, you can still do it,” Molly said with a hopeful expression on her face.

“But that means we can’t keep secrets,” Susan added. “You’re all going to know how much each of you makes plus any perks.”

Molly nodded. “I get it. To give you a heads-up, Dale got some tax breaks to film the show here in Canyon Pointe instead of Los Angeles. That way, he’s paying less for housing the out-of-town folks. I marked that on page twenty since I’m a local. And…” She paused for a dramatic effect.

After several seconds, Harri blurted, “Spit it out, girl!”

Molly clapped her hands. “He wants to film at Lady Jaye’s Review! So now, you’ll have four clients to juggle!”

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 5

Sorry I'm late posting the latest chapter of Queer Eye for the Super Guy. I'm still recovering from this dang cold, and the brain fuzz has been extreme. On the plus side, it is definitely not COVID-19 according to our doctor. Yay for small favors!

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Jeremy whistled. “I take it the kid hasn’t said anything to you about the show.”

“She has the right to have additional representation.” But there was an edge to his foster sister’s tone.

“Or maybe she and Aisha are talking again?” Jeremy ventured. “That would be a plus.”

Molly had been rather put out Aisha and Rey hadn’t asked her to go to Paris with them as Mitch’s nanny. In fact, the Franklin-Garcias had tried to encourage Molly to go to school and do something with her life than just superheroing. Especially since her twin sister had moved out of their grandmother’s house and was attending classes at a local automotive servicing school.

“Aisha would have said something to me if that were the case,” Harri murmured.

“Oh, geez, woman! Are you still jealous Aisha has the people skills?” Jeremy complained. Harri was a brilliant attorney and a good person, but her E.Q. was practically nonexistent.

“No, it’s…” Slurping came over the receiver. “I trust Ultra to look out for themselves. Molly can be a little naïve.”

He knew exactly where Harri was going with this, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“No, no, no. I revamped her costume and look. I am not going to babysit Nix for you.”

“She’s not going to listen to me if I try to talk her out of joining this reality show,” she said.

Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Her whole life has revolved around rebelling against female authority figures.”

“That’s because her mom abandoned her,” Harri snapped.

“Oh, and Rue Liberty’s overprotectiveness had nothing do with it?” Jeremy immediately regretted his mocking tone. At least, Rue fought for her granddaughters. None of his extended family would have anything to do with him after his parents kicked him out.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But make sure she’s actually going to be a judge on this show before you freak out. Producers sometimes dangle big names to land other suckers, and Nix is a big name thanks to you and Aisha.”

“You’re not going to take any responsibility?” Harri mocked.

“I was trying to be a little gracious here,” he shot back.

“All right, all right.” Harri’s sigh whistled over the receiver. “Let me talk to Molly and have Susan and Aisha look over your contract.”

“And I want more money if I have to babysit Screaming Orgasm again.” Jeremy grinned at Harri’s groan of despair. She and Aisha worked hard to convince Molly the moniker she chose to piss off her grandmother wasn’t doing the kid any favors.

“Fine.” Harri chuckled. “Then I’m claiming one of the dinners at La Churro’s you owe me for tonight.”

“You have to pay for your own husband this time,” he shot back, though he knew he’d pay so Leonardo didn’t give him grief about being cheap. Besides, he rather liked lording it over Harri’s ex-billionaire husband.

“Fine. How’s seven sound?”

“Don’t let me forget some takeout for my own husband. He’s stuck at the salon until closing.”

“I’ll leave mine at home, and if I have news, I can pick up dinner as a business expense,” Harri said.

Jeremy laughed. “You’re incorrigible, sister of mine. I’ll see you at seven.” He pushed back from his desk, grabbed his coffee cup, and headed for the kitchen.

Leonardo sat on a stool, bent over the breakfast island and intent on something. The rough scratching of pencil on paper came from the same direction.

Jeremy brushed back his husband’s electric blue-highlighted hair and kissed his neck.

Leonardo jumped and slammed his notebook shut. “Quit trying to sneak a peek!”

“I wasn’t. I swear.” Jeremy circled the island and reached for the coffee pot. “What did Elaine say?”

“About freakin’ time.”

Jeremy paused in pouring his coffee and eyed Leonardo. “Excuse me?”

“That was a direct quote.” Leonardo grinned. “I told you she needed to be promoted.”

Jeremy leaned his elbows on the granite surface of the island. “Maybe I didn’t want to replace my one and only.”

Leonardo narrowed his eyes. “The only place I’d object to being replaced is in your bed, love boy.”

“I’d never dream of anyone else with me between the sheets.” Jeremy took Leonardo’s hand in his and kissed the back. “When I said forever, I meant it, baby doll. By the way, what do you want me to bring you from La Churro’s?”

Leonardo laughed. “Harri’s collecting again, isn’t she?”

“It depends on if she has news about the TV deal for me by seven.”

“I was teasing this morning,” Leonardo said. “Are you really going to do this? Months in California?”

“Bernhardt let a few things slip in his email to Harri.” Jeremy repeated the tidbits his sister found in the first two pages.

Leonardo whistled. “I admit I feel better about shooting the series here, but Burnhardt really has no idea that you and Lady Jaye are the same person?”

“Oh, he’s done his research, all right.” Jeremy shook his head. “He knows Jeremy Harkness is Lady Jaye, but he doesn’t know Jeremy Harkness is Mel’s designer.”

Leonardo frowned. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I don’t like the idea of a supervillain finding out who I am.” Jeremy tapped his fingers on the countertop. “If one of those bozos decides I’m worth kidnapping, or worse goes after you or the sibs, to try to force me to give up my client list—”

Leonardo exhaled gustily. “But Harri wants you to keep an eye on Molly if she really is a judge, doesn’t she?”

“The kid is sweet, but there’s a reason the other Canyon Pointe supers make sure she’s teamed up with one of them when stuff happens in the city.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry about the money crack I made earlier,” Leonardo said. “I know you wouldn’t risk me or your foster family.”

“It’s okay.” Jeremy leaned across the island and kissed his husband. Maybe they were still in the throes of being newlyweds, but he was so damn lucky to have Leonardo in his life. “You’re right. I have been obsessed with money the last twenty years. I need to get over myself.”

“But you’re still going to do this reality show to make sure Molly doesn’t get in trouble, aren’t you?” Leonardo asked.

“I won’t if you tell me no, darling,” Jeremy replied.

Leonardo shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

“But—” Jeremy drawled.

“I know you’ll do the right thing.” Leonardo made shooing motions with both hands. “Now, go change so we can have lunch with Elaine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jeremy winked before he strolled to their bedroom. Leonardo was right. He would do the right thing, and the right thing was to keep the naïve Nix from getting herself into big trouble.

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 4

Hey, Peeps!

Things at Casa Harden have slowed down quite a bit. While I was writing in the wee hours of Friday morning, I got that lovely little tickle at the back of my throat indicating I caught DH's nasty cold, despite our best efforts to prevent cross-contamination. I actually managed to pull a chest muscle during a coughing fit yesterday. LOL

So here's another sample chapter of the next 888-555-Hero novel. Or you could curl up on the couch with some hot tea and watch the Star Trek:TOS episode "Arena."

"No, Gorn, no. That's my spot!"

----------------------------

Harri sipped her cinnamon coffee and stared at the e-mail she just received from Dale Bernhardt’s assistant Janna. She’d heard of Hollywood’s latest “it” producer, but the email made no sense. Janna referred to Ultramegaperson’s supersuit designer, but she didn’t mention the person by name. Harri couldn’t imagine Jeremy breaking his silence over that particular side hustle.

Was this Janna really Bernhardt’s assistant? If she was, how did Bernhardt know Harri had been representing Jeremy’s business interests? Surely, Ultramegaperson hadn’t outed Jeremy.

Had they?

Harri reached for the intercom to get her IT guru Arthur Drallhickey to trace the email when the device buzzed. She punched the button. “Yes?”

“You busy?” Patty Ames asked. The firm’s receptionist and all-around Girl Friday was pretty good about screening calls when Harri was neck deep in work.

As she usually was these days with Aisha living in Paris for the rest of the year.

“It’s Jeremy about some contract that was supposed to be forwarded to you,” Patty added.

“Put him through.” Harri picked up the handset before the first ring completed. “Hey, sister dearest. Give some warning before you have someone send me attachments to emails. That’s a good way to infect the firm’s computers.”

“Dale already sent you the paperwork?” Jeremy sounded surprised. “I didn’t expect him to move that fast. Ultramegaperson called me a half hour ago while I was making breakfast.”

Harri leaned back in her office chair. “Ultra called you? Jaye, why don’t you start from the beginning?”

He filled her in on his conversation with Ultramegaperson this morning, including his agreement to let Bernhardt send the initial paperwork to Harri.

“A reality show?” She reached for her coffee. “Are you sure this is worth outing yourself over?”

“No, but I trust you to make sure this deal is worth outing myself over.”

“Has Bernhardt sent you copies of this deal?” she asked.

“I trust Mel not to name me,” Jeremy said. “All Bernhardt knows is Ultramegaperson uses the same law firm as the person who designs their supersuits.”

“Okay, let’s open up this puppy and see what Mr. Hollywood is offering my favorite sister.”

Jeremy snorted. “I’m only your favorite right now because Aisha’s in Paris.”

“Is it okay if I run this past her tomorrow morning?” Harri asked.

“What about Susan? You know, your other partner?” Jeremy sniped. “Or are you still holding a grudge?”

Harri clenched her teeth. Of course he’d bring up the fight she had with Susan a couple of weeks ago. She’d apologized to her partner, but things were still a little tense in the firm.

Especially after she found out the rest of the staff, including her own damn husband, sided with the newest partner.

“I was planning to have her look over the offer this afternoon,” Harri shot back. “If that’s okay, Your Majesty.”

“The more the merrier,” he said.

Harri opened the attachment. The cover letter laid out the basic offer, which made her whistle.

“Don’t leave me hanging, Harri!”

“Bernhardt wants you as the main judge of the show.” She named the number of zeroes after the first number.”

Jeremy whooped. “Are you shitting me?”

“Nope. He’s also already lined up the tax credits to film the series here in Canyon Pointe.”

“What do you mean film in Canyon Pointe?” Suspicion dripped from Jeremy’s voice.

She couldn’t blame him. Between normal everyday bigots and the illegal black-op organization known as Corvus, there were many reasons for his insane desire for personal privacy.

“According to this, he wants to complete the line up judges and contestants before he approaches famous Canyon Pointe drag queen Lady Jaye about using her nightclub for filming.” Harri laughed. “This is too funny to be true. You might want to do this whole thing as Lady Jaye.”

“It’s not funny,” Jeremy snapped.

“Actually, it might work better,” she said. “Few people outside of your lost boys and the family know Lady Jaye’s real identity. And you know the staff at the club will make sure no one finds out.”

“And you know Coco will go absolutely Miss Perfection if I agree to the show filming at the club?” Jeremy protested. “Not to mention security issues if Bernhardt is crazy enough to really have a supervillain as a contestant. Or have you not read that far yet?”

Harri ignored Jeremy while she scanned the second page of the proposal, and when she reached the list of pending judges, her blood ran cold. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong, hun?”

“One of the pending judges is Nix.”

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 3

Here's the next unedited chapter of the upcoming 888-555-Hero novel!

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“Are you friggin’ kidding me?” Jeremy shouted. “I will not have a supervillian wearing one of my creations!”

Leonardo frowned and laid aside the knife. Well out of Jeremy’s reach.

“No, no, no,” Mel replied. “He wants you to be one of the judges.”

If they weren’t totally immune to the effects of any and all drugs, Jeremy would suspect they were high on something.

“This Dale better be worth it in bed,” Jeremy grumbled.

“Oh, he is.” Mel laughed. “Why do you think I’m just getting home?”

“Let me talk it over with Leonardo and call you back.”

“Can I have Dale’s assistant send the contracts to Winters and Franklin for their review?”

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you,” Jeremy retorted.

“Puh-leease. We both know you won’t sign a damn thing without your foster sisters’ input.”

Jeremy looked at Leonardo who wore a shit-eating grin. Oh, he was definitely going to hear about this over breakfast. “All right, e-mail the contracts to Harri. But this is not a yes by any means, Mel.”

“Of course. Talk to you later.” Mel made kissy noises before they ended the call.

Jeremy at Leonardo. “What are you laughing about?”

“We both know if the money’s right, you’re going to do it.”

“Did you know about this?” Jeremy laid his phone on the counter before he pulled out the carton of eggs from the refrigerator.

“There’s been rumors in the gossip rags that TV wunderkind Dale Bernhardt has signed a producing deal with the ABS network.” Leonardo shrugged and popped a mushroom slice in his mouth. “The execs want a show to compete with the reality series on their rivals. Between cable and streaming, they are hemorrhaging money like crazy.”

“You mean reality shows are cheap.” Jeremy cracked two eggs into his mixing bowl, added two tablespoons of water, and whisked everything until it was evenly smooth and yellow. Did he really want to out himself? Mel didn’t care if they were outed or not. Very little could hurt them. Plus, they always kept their relationships casual. Jeremy, on the other hand, had Leonardo and his foster sibs and foster parents to worry about being used against him.

Jeremy cut a pat of butter into the small non-stick skillet and turned on the heat. He had some issues with two villains when he first started designing for supers. If it weren’t for Mel, he’d be dead. But the odd thing is Mel never it over his head when they asked for a favor.

“It would mean living out on the West Coast for a few months,” Jeremy murmured.

“What’s the point of having your clients train the local Alphabets to take care of themselves if you can’t stop being a mother hen?” Leonardo asked while he diced the onions.

“Your parents accepted you for what you are, babykins.”

“Being gay, yes. Marrying you, yes, though Mom sides with Betty about us eloping. But my parents didn’t agree with a lot of other stuff in my life.”

“That’s because you can freaking do calculus in your head. You should be teaching at MIT.” Jeremy sobered and swirled the melting butter around in the pan. “You have no idea what it’s like to live on the streets.”

“The only reason you do is because you let your pride get in the way,” Leonardo responded gently. “I know damn well once Harri and Aisha found out what had happened to you, they talked Betty and Marvin into helping you.”

Jeremy shuddered. If it weren’t for Aisha’s parents taking him in along with Harri—well, he’d come pretty damn close to prostitution in order to eat. On the other hand, Leonardo was right. He’d lived on the streets out of a misplaced sense of pride.

“A couple of months in California would be a perfect opportunity to see how Elaine can handle the salon,” Leonardo continued. “We get a furnished apartment. I can take my laptop and work on my designs while you’re at the studio.”

“You’re jumping way ahead here.” Jeremy poured the eggs into the bubbling butter. “I haven’t agreed to a damn thing yet. But you’re right about giving Elaine a probationary period as manager.” He added the onions, garlic, mushrooms, and shredded Swiss cheese.

“You want me to talk to her.” Leonardo rose to refill his coffee cup.

Jeremy considered the matter. “When is your first appointment today?”

“I’m booked from one to nine.” Leonardo set his filled cup on the breakfast bar and reached for Jeremy’s mug.

“Let’s go in early and take her out to lunch,” he suggested.

Leonardo paused and looked at Jeremy. “Mabel Longwood is my first client.”

“She can handle it if you’re late.” He shook his head. “You can’t let people like Mabel run roughshod over you.”

“Oh, please, darling.” Leonardo glared at him. “You let her run over you when she was your client, too.”

“And then, I did the smart thing and dumped her on the cute, naïve, new stylist who joined my salon.” Jeremy smirked while he flipped the omelet over in the pan.

“You are evil.” Leonardo laughed and shook his head. “It’s a wonder you didn’t become a supervillain.”

“And have a certain foster sister beat the crap out of me if I did?” Jeremy slid the finished omelet onto one of the waiting plates and handed it to his husband. “No, thank you.”

“I admit Harri’s a lot of bark—” Leonardo said.

“Harri would only yell at me. I wasn’t referring to her.” Jeremy dropped another pat of butter in the omelet pan and cracked two more eggs in the mixing bowl.

“Aisha would only resort to fisticuffs—”

“Not her either. She’d give me the same disappointed parent look Marvin would have.” Jeremy whipped the eggs with two tablespoons of water.

“LaShun?” Leonardo wore a confused expression. “Wouldn’t she break a nail?”

“Do not underestimate her, darling.” Jeremy poured the egg mixture into the bubbling butter. The liquid hissed and steamed. “When we were kids, she towed Mama Betty’s line, and she made sure the rest of us did, too. And that was long before Betty and Marvin let Harri and me move in with the Franklin clan.”

Leonardo giggled. “What would LaShun do?”

“Pull my hair.” Jeremy ran a hand over his locks. “Sit on me, or dig those damn claws of hers into very sensitive flesh as a last resort.”

Leonardo winced in sympathetic pain. “What did you do for LaShun to resort to the third option?”

“I used her makeup without permission.” Jeremy smiled at the memory while he added fillings to his omelet. “But the next day she took me to Arrow’s and helped me select my own makeup while she lectured on not sharing products because of germs. She even pitched in her own allowance to pay for everything and gave me my first lesson on proper application.”

“And here, I thought she had no heart.” Leonardo chuckled.

“She and Betty are a lot alike.” Jeremy flipped his omelet in half. “In a way, they care too much. Then, there’s the perfectionistic streak. Eat your omelet before it gets cold. And please call Elaine after breakfast so she doesn’t have lunch without us.”

“And what will you be doing?”

Jeremy slid his omelet onto his own plate. “I need to call my attorney to draw up Elaine’s paperwork and consult with her about the contracts Mel’s boyfriend will be sending to her.”

As he dug into his breakfast, he wondered if would really be worth his time to participate in Dale Bernhardt’s reality show. Because the idea of an unknown supervillain involved worried him to no end.

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 2

While I'm still working on taxes, here's the next unedited chapter of Queer Eye for the Super Guy!

----------------

Harri knocked on the door of Aisha’s loft. When no one answered, she punched in the keycode. The pad flashed green, and she rolled back the door. To her left, Aisha’s dining table had been commandeered by a sewing machine and loads of fabric. A dressmaker’s dummy stood guard over the organized chaos. To her right came Molly and Monica Reinhold’s voices. It sounded like another mother/daughter squabble. Harri locked the door and headed down the hall.

“Mom, you’ve got to eat something.” Molly wasn’t whining, but there was a subsonic burr in her voice that grated on Harri’s nerves. It also meant the superhero known as Nix was about to lose her temper.

“I didn’t ask for you to babysit me,” Monica snarled.

“Would you like to stay at Grandma’s?” Molly shot back.

Whatever Monica was about to say to her daughter was silenced with the snap of her teeth at Harri’s appearance in the doorway to Aisha’s spare bedroom. The normally immaculate supervillain Miss Purrception lay limply in the twin bed like a rag doll that had been run over a few times by Julio and his garbage truck.

“How are you feeling today?” Harri asked.

“I’m just peachy, counselor,” Monica sneered.

“That’s good because I have a headache.” Molly stormed past Harri and out of the bedroom.

“What do you want?” Monica pushed her dark, dirty locks out of her face. Flecks of silver and white shone along her scalp. The vain supervillian had been on the run at least a month if she hadn’t bothered touching up her roots. She hadn’t given anyone much more information other than her own mother Margaret Reinhold, AKA Rue Liberty, had shot Monica after Rue had killed Byron Trubble, the former head of the black ops organization known as Corvus.

Harri leaned against the doorjamb, crossed her arms, and watched her former client. Her own emerging gray hadn’t bothered her. She let Jeremy or Leo color her damn hair every six weeks just to get them to shut up about it.

“Molly’s right,” she said. “You need to eat.”

“So you can send me back to Mauvaises?” Monica mocked.

“We both know you’ll be dead within a week if I do that.” Harri sighed. “But if you don’t eat and do your physical therapy, you’ll never be able to escape the Lechuza Building and rub it in Tim’s face.”

“Sometimes, I don’t know whose side you’re on,” Monica spat.

“That makes us even since I’m never sure which way you’ll jump in a given situation,” Harri responded.

“Then what do you want?” Monica leaned back wearily on her pillows.

“Would you happen to have any more bullets like the ones you were shot with?”

“Just the ones Serena pulled out of my chest and gut.” Monica’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“They were designed to fragment upon impact—”

“And tear up the target.” Monica sighed. “Those things are available at any ammo store in the U.S.”

“Tim thinks there was something inside the ones you were shot with,” Harri said. “Something that’s impeding your super healing ability. You should have been up and around—”

“And escaping?” The smile on Monica’s face was only a whisper of her usual sly smirk.

“At least five days ago,” Harri finished. “That’s accounting for both the damage and Serena’s initial attempt to heal you.”

The physician’s assistant at the end of the block had nearly burned out her superpower in trying to help Monica. Harri wondered if the supervillain even appreciated what Serena had done for her.

“All I wanted from the kid was a patch job and enough painkillers to get me down to Mexico.” Monica wouldn’t look at Harri anymore. Instead, she stared at the steel rafters overhead. “I didn’t ask her to heal me. Or to call O’Brien.”

Doctor Hannah O’Brien ran the neighborhood clinic where Serena worked. Both Harri and Rey made regular donations to keep the clinic open since most of the folks in the Canyon Block didn’t have health insurance. If they could only get a dentist on this side of town…

“I’m the one who called O’Brien if you want to get pissy,” Harri said dryly. “And if Rue wanted you dead, she would’ve shot you in the head, then decapitated you.”

“She tried the head shot.” Monica lifted a section of lank hair by her left temple. What looked like a fresh burn scarred her scalp. “I got lucky, or she’s getting old. Either way, she missed.”

Barely, but Harri kept that opinion to herself. “If Rue has developed bullets that can hurt supers like you—”

“Of course, she has.” Monica squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s always been about power for her. She’s got to be top dog.”

Her act almost made Harri feel sorry for the woman. Unfortunately, Monica had lied too many times for Harri to ever trust her again.

“I’ll say it again,” Harri said. “Cut a deal with the FBI. Consuelo has cleaned up her office—”

A sharp bark of laughter erupted from Monica that led to a coughing fit. Harri didn’t try to assist the supervillain. Not that she didn’t have any compassion for the injured woman, but she knew Monica would respect her attempt if she did.

When Monica’s fit died and she collapsed back on her pillows, Harri said, “So you’d rather cough out a lung, then to help us stop your mother?”

“Tell Tim, there’s modified bullets in one of my old safe houses.” Monica smirked. “The first one I let him see.”

Harri wanted to beat the smirk of the supervillain’s mug. She didn’t have to ask why Monica left the bullets in that particular place. It was her little dig that she had her claws in Harri’s husband long before they got married.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Harri said. “Are there any new booby-traps he doesn’t know about?”

“No,” Monica said. “But he might want to take Steve with him. Tim’s getting a little slow in his old age.”

“So are you if a senior citizen got the drop on you, Miss Purrception.” Harri pivoted and strode out of Aisha’s spare bedroom before she said or did something she’d regret.

Queer Eye for the Super Guy (888-555-HERO #11) - Chapter 1

Here's the first unedited chapter of the next 888-555-HERO book!

---------------

Jeremy Harkness examined the business plan his husband Leonardo had set on the counter while he chopped mushrooms for their breakfast omelets. The idea was sound, but… He set aside the knife and looked up at Leo who perched on a stool on the opposite side of their kitchen island. “But why, darling?”

“Why, what?” Leonardo frowned.

“I don’t understand why you’d want to design for the hoi polloi, baby doll,” Jeremy answered.

“The general public is not the hoi polloi, and no offense—” Leonardo hesitated a moment before he blurted, “I want a little something to call my own. I hate feeling like I’m riding on your dress train.”

“You’re not—” Jeremy started to protest.

“If we don’t promote Elaine, she’s going to leave to start her own salon.” Leonardo pantomimed trading one thing for another. “Besides Rey already set aside space for us in the new Canyon Block shopping complex.”

Rey Garcia, aka the superhero Black Falcon, was generous to a fault. He, or rather his attorneys, finally managed to close on the city block that had housed Canyon Industries, Canyon Pointe’s largest employer until the company collapsed nearly three decades ago. Rey was making sure the homeless folks he knew had jobs and places to live since he had been one of them not so long ago.

Not to mention Rey made Jeremy’s foster sister Aisha so damn happy. It was hard to hate the man for being good-looking and a total sweetheart, too.

Jeremy nodded. “All right. We can withdraw the money from one of our money market funds—”

“No.” Leonardo held up his right palm. “I’ve already set aside the capital I will need.”

“Leonardo Chen Harkness!” Jeremy laid his palm on his chest. “You have secret money I don’t know about?”

“Quit being a drama queen.” Leonardo scowled. “I’ve been squirreling away money in my fun account for years.”

Jeremy sighed and bit his lower lip. He’d been the one to insist they have separate accounts for their own personal use so neither of them had to justify such spending to the other spouse. His bio parents had some rather nasty fights over Dad’s race track betting and Mom’s shoe shopping before they tossed Jeremy out of the house. He sighed. The ’rents probably still had those same fights.

Assuming they were still together. Jeremy hadn’t bothered checking up on them.

“Don’t give me the sigh of disbelief,” Leonardo said crossly.

Jeremy leaned his elbows on the counter and took Leonardo’s hands in his. “It was the sigh of self-disgust that I was on the verge of acting like my bio ’rents. And for that, I sincerely apologize, my love.”

Leonardo flashed a sweet smile. “All’s forgiven.” He leaned closer and pecked Jeremy on the lips.

“Can I see some of your designs?” Jeremy asked when they parted.

“Not yet,” Leonardo said.

A little twinge of anxiety raced along Jeremy’s nerves. He knew it was a stupid reaction to what Ryan had done to him fifteen years ago. And it definitely wasn’t fair to compare that asshole to Leonardo.

“I’m actually working with Susan Kennedy,” Leonardo continued. “She’s been designing jewelry on the side.”

“She is?” Jeremy blinked, but he didn’t know why he was surprised. His foster sisters’ law partner was a fountain of odd talents. “Wait a minute! Was she where you came up with the idea for the earring comms for the supers who wear jewelry?”

Leonardo nodded. “I said one set she showed me was big enough to hide Timmy’s equipment, and we got to talking.”

Jeremy was a big enough queen to admit his feelings were hurt, but he also wanted his husband to be happy. “Just make sure you have someone look over any partnership papers before you sign anything.”

Leonardo’s eyes widened. “Do you really think Susan would screw me over?”

Jeremy chuckled. “Only if she really wants Harri and Aisha to pound the crap out of her. But this is your baby, and I’ll stay out of your way, muffin.”

His phone chose that moment to dance along the surface of the island’s granite countertop to the tune of Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman.” Even odder was the caller ID showed Melanie’s personal number, not their alter ego, Ultramegaperson.

He tapped the answer icon. “What’s up, doll?”

“I have a personal question for you and a request,” the throaty voice of the world’s most powerful super said. “Remember that producer Dale I’ve been dating?”

“You’ve mentioned him.” Jeremy grabbed his phone and stepped back to lean against the sink counter. Leonardo pulled the cutting board towards himself and started mincing the garlic.

“He wants to know if my designer would like to be involved in a nationally televised reality show where eight designers for superheroes would compete to dress twelve brand-new supers.”

“Mel, you know I like my privacy when it comes to designing supersuits,” Jeremy said.

“Which is the reason I’m calling you instead of my boyfriend Dale calling you.” Mel gave an exaggerated sigh. “You know I’d be the last person on the planet to out your secret designing skills, but since you design for a large number of other heroes, he really wants you to participate in his show.”

“What’s the catch?” Jeremy said.

“One of the twelve people the contestants will be designing for is a supervillain.”

February 2023 Update

This is just a quick note. I'm working on taxes this week, so if you don't see much progress in word count, that's why. Uncle Sam and his IRS can do worse things to me than a reader can.

Also, I hate to say this, but I'm glad Invasion! didn't go live when it was supposed to. I finished it shortly after my mom's funeral, and...

Let's just the last four chapters made no flipping sense. There were sentences where I didn't have a clue of what I was trying to say. So I've been fixing the ending of the damn book, and hopefully, I'll finish before the Super Bowl on Sunday. That's assuming I get taxes done by Saturday night.

I'm still plugging away on Death in Double Mocha, but that had to get kicked to the side when I realized my Amazon links were no longer working last Thursday. The third party I used to connect to ALL the Amazon stores shut down without warning on either January 31st or February 1st. So I need to go through all my books and websites to fix links. It's not hard, just time-consuming.

Also, I need to get my ass moving on Queer Eye for the Super Guy. So much for taking March slow.

Next week, I'll start posting chapters for Queer Eye, so y'all have something to look forward to. Until then, stay warm, hug your family, kiss you pets, and dream of an early spring!

Getting Things Done

For those who desperately want Invasion!, give me until next week. I've got to redo links because I dropped all the balls for anything that was supposed to be released in the last quarter of 2022. I'm just now uploading the print files for Hero Ad Litem. That's why I'm not releasing a lot for the first half of 2023.

In the meantime, I'm working on Death in Double Mocha, and I need to continue on Queer Eye for the Super Guy.

There's a lot to do in the next few months because I really want to go visit friends in other states. People I love and haven't seen in years.

I would have spaced out my journeys if not for the pandemic. And after four deaths in the family last year, I realize how short time really is for both me and my loved ones.

I Need Some Help Deciding on a Cover!

My cover artist came up with three versions of the cover for Queer Eye for the Super Guy. So I need a little help in picking one.

The first one, aka COVER A, is based on my original request. I told her I wanted two men and  rainbows because Jeremy, Leo, and the LGBT+ cast of the 888-555-HERO takes center stage in this story.

The second one, aka COVER B, has the title toned down a little bit, but still has lots of color.

The third cover, aka COVER C, takes the title down to an almost metallic silver color.

Tell me what you think in the comments below, or you can send me a private message through the CONTACT ME! tab above.

Thanks for your help!

Hero Ad Litem - Chapter 4

Here's your last tidbit before Hero Ad Litem drops next week! I hope you enjoy it!

------------------------------

Aisha tapped her free fingers on the antique secretary desk in the tiny room serving as her office in the flat she and Rey had rented in Paris. Calling it a room was generous. She had a suspicion the previous tenants used it as a closet.

But for a closet, she couldn’t fault the view. The Eiffel Tower rose over the City of Lights less than three miles away. It made for a lovely evening walk with her husband and son. This was so much better than accompanying her dad on his digs in Mexico and Central America.

She smiled to herself. Definitely far less mosquitoes.

“How’s the jetsetting?” Harri chirruped over the phone receiver. Marriage was obviously agreeing with her, but Aisha didn’t dare say that thought out loud.

She laughed. “I wish I was actually jetsetting. This apartment may have been furnished, but there was still a lot of stuff we needed. I think we’re finally situated.”

“Hey, girl!” Susan called out. “Eat a few real croissants for me!”

“I will.” Aisha glanced at her notes before she launched into the status of her ongoing cases.

When she finished, Harri blurted, “How’d you get all that work done?”

“We found an au pair. And before you start bitching, she’s a super herself. I’ve already vetted her, and she’s awesome, so don’t ruin this for me.”

“All right,” Harri drawled, “What’s the catch?”

“Her parents are Lightstreak and Raindrop. The parents want me to meet with their attorneys in London about doing some licensing in the U.S. for them. They were highly impressed with my Captain Justice and Sparx campaigns.” Aisha couldn’t keep the sour note out of her voice. Nearly two years after Captain Justice’s “death”, her husband’s first alter ego was still haunting her career.

“Who?” Harri demanded.

“And what kind of split are we talking about?” Susan asked.

“Amblehurst, Mintegue, and Trott in London, and the split is part of what we need to negotiate. The partners want a face-to-face meeting with me tomorrow depending on how you two feel about this.”

“It doesn’t hurt to talk to them,” Susan said.

Harri remained ominously silent.

“Harri, talk to me.”

“What if they are trying to poach you?”

Crap, her best friend’s insecurities were back. “Harri, I am not leaving Winters and Franklin. We all have worked too hard. And you know damn well Rey’s not going to throw away his plan to revitalize the Canyon Block. Either we cut ourselves a decent deal or we walk.”

“It sounds like we may need another associate before you get back,” Susan said.

Harri snorted. “That’s assuming this thing in London goes through.”

“Girl, expanding the firm into the international market is not a bad thing,” Aisha said gently.

“I don’t want us to get overwhelmed,” Harri said. “I’ve been assigned my first ad litem case in the family courts.”

“That’s great!” Aisha exclaimed at the same time as Susan.

“We’ll see. He’s a kid with powers, and I’ll meet him for the first time this afternoon.”

“Let’s take everything one step at a time.” Aisha picked up her pencil. “Now, about the split between firms…”

##

It was another hour before Aisha could finally hang up the phone. Despite Harri’s fear of abandonment rearing its ugly head, she’d actually come up with some excellent points that needed to be broached with the partners at Amblehurst, Mintegue, and Trott.

She exited her tiny office to find Mitch in his high chair in the kitchenette, munching on cut banana pieces while Rey cooked.

“Mamamama!” her son shrieked when saw her. Mitch waved his arms, forgetting he had fruit chunks in his hands. The banana nuggets sailed into the air.

With the application of a little superspeed, Aisha caught the flying fruit before they landed and placed them back on the high chair tray. She bent and kissed his forehead. “Sometimes, I think you do that on purpose, babycakes.”

Mitch grabbed one the saved banana pieces and shoved it into his mouth.

She walked over and kissed her husband. “How was you first day of school?”

“Not too bad.” He grinned as he reached around her to grab a cup of shredded carrots and dumped them into the sauté pan with the cut up chicken. “How’re Harri and Susan surviving without you?”

“Harri got her first ad litem case in the family court today.”

“Good. She’s needs something to focus on besides missing you.” Rey kissed Aisha while he reached for something else behind her.

She laughed. “You know you could simply tell me I’m in your way.”

“But if you move, I can’t kiss you every time I need something.” He poured a dollop of soy sauce in the pan and stirred. “So Harri didn’t freak out about the meeting in London tomorrow?”

“A little. But it was a perfectly valid worry about us overextending the firm again.” Aisha walked over to sit next to Mitch at their little table. He proceeded to feed a banana bit to her. After she chewed and swallowed, she smiled at him. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“And you’re comfortable with Delphine being here alone with Mitch all day?”

She made a face at her husband. “Are you trying to make me paranoid?”

“I’m just thinking maybe we should have asked Molly to come with us.” Rey pulled the kitchen towel from his shoulder and wiped his hands. “She’s been Mitch’s nanny since you ended your maternity leave.”

“I’m very aware of that,” Aisha said dryly. “But you’re moving on with your education. It’s time she does the same. And I do trust Delphine.”

“Good.” Rey turned and gave the chicken and carrots another stir before he added the cup of peas. He faced Aisha again. “I don’t think I could handle both you and Harri freaking out over our au pair at the same time, even if one of you is half a world away.”

“I didn’t freak out,” she protested.

“Speaking about not freaking, why don’t you take the train to London tonight after dinner?”

“Really?”

“Baby, we both know you’re not a morning person.” Rey grinned. “Staying in a hotel tonight will give some sleep-in time tomorrow. And if you get done early, you can do a little sight-seeing.”

“But Mitch—”

“I think I can handle our son by myself for one night.” Rey walked over to the table. “Besides, I think you could use the break. We both know you’ve been doing legal stuff despite allegedly taking two weeks off to get us settled in the city.”

She grinned up at him. “You are the best husband ever.”

“I know,” he said before he leaned over and kissed her while Mitch clapped his hands.

Hero Ad Litem - Chapter 3

Here's the next unedited chapter of Hero Ad Litem. Later this weekend, I'll post a notice once A Measure of Knowledge is available for download.

---------------

Monday morning, Harri Winters’ eyelids popped open, and she rolled over on her back. Some wrongness had infiltrated her sleep. No, it was the absence of something.

It was still dark outside. She was in her own bed in her own bedroom in her loft from the greenish glow of her alarm clock. Her husband Tim lay beside her, snoring slightly. She inhaled deeply.

That was it. A lack of coffee aroma from the loft across the hall. Even though Rey didn’t drink the beverage himself, he always got up early to make Aisha a pot of coffee.

Tim jerked upright. “What’s wrong?”

Harri chuckled. “I never realized how much we depended on Rey to start our own days.”

Tim groaned and flopped down on the mattress. “This is why we should get a coffee pot with a timer.”

She cuddled against his side and pulled the covers over them both. “Can’t you install a timer on our current coffee maker?”

“I could.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “But it’s kind of a waste of my talents considering coffee pots with timers are already on the market.” He yawned.

“It’s too quiet with them gone,” she murmured. “I kind of wished Molly would have taken the Garcias’ offer to loft-sit while they’re in France just for the noise.”

Tim laughed. “You want her throwing parties across the hall?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“When does Aisha start back to work?”

“Today,” Harri said. “I don’t think it’s her being gone that bothers me as much as missing some of our godson’s milestones. Mitch will be walking by the time they return to the states.”

“Let’s just pray he’s not flying yet when they get back,” Tim said. “Regular parents do not realize how fast toddlers can be. If Mitch ends up with Rey and Aisha’s power set, he’ll be hell to deal with.”

“Locks on the cookie jar?”

“I was thinking more of a titanium-reinforced safe for all the junk food.”

Harri giggled at the idea. “You could probably sell that to a ton of parents.”

“Heck, I could use one to keep you from eating all my Girl Scout cookies next month.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Prove it.”

She rolled on top of him and launched her very thorough apology.

##

Later that morning, Harri took her first sip from her second cup of coffee when the intercom buzzed. She glanced at the two clocks displayed on the corner of her laptop’s monitor. Nine a.m. in Canyon Pointe equated to five p.m. in Paris. Aisha was right on time.

Harri jabbed the intercom button. “Yes?”

“Cathy Blanchett from the 126th Family Court is on line 1 for you,” Patty Ames chirped. Their paralegal, receptionist and all around Girl Friday was the only person at the firm who was more of a morning person than Harri.

“Thanks. If Aisha calls while I’m on the phone with the court, tell her I’ll call her back in a few minutes.”

“Sure thing,” Patty said.

Harri picked up the receiver and punched the flashing button. “Hey, Cathy, what can I do for you?”

“It’s your turn to play ad litem,” the court clerk replied.

“Already?” Harri sat back in her chair. “I just signed up in December.” In fact, her husband, her foster siblings, and all her staff insisted she volunteer as an ad litem in the family courts. Apparently, everyone was fed up with her mothering them.

“The judge needs someone with supers experience, Harri.” Cathy sighed. “The parents are in the middle of an ugly divorce, and she wants someone who will actually look out for the kid.”

“Are the parents supers?” Harri straightened in her chair and flipped her legal pad to a clean page.

“Nope, but they’re both looking at the kid as a meal ticket, which is why there’s a huge battle for custody.” Cathy paused a second before she added, “Harri, if you don’t take custody of him, you know the NSB will. Special Agent Nesmith said they’d back off if you are assigned as ad litem. He was adamant no one else would do.”

Special Agent Wilbur Nesmith had become a particular thorn in Harri’s backside. He was doing his damnedest to earn the firm’s trust. But someone within the National Superhero Bureau had set up Rey to be abducted and experimented on by Professor Paranoia, so trust of the NSB didn’t come easy to anyone at Winters and Franklin.

And Harri knew she’d be lying to herself if she thought Rey, Aisha, and Mitch were totally safe from the U.S. government while they were in France.

“All right.” She sighed. “I’m assuming you already made arrangements for me to meet with the kid?”

“The next hearing is scheduled for two this afternoon to decide who gets temporary custody,” Cathy said. “Can you be here?”

“Nothing like waiting until the last minute,” Harri grumbled. “Yes, I’ll be there. How old is he?”

“Thirteen.”

Line 2 started blinking on Harri’s phone set.

“Cathy, can you shoot me a copy of the file by e-mail? I’ve got an international call scheduled for now.”

“Sure thing,” the court clerk chirped. “See you at two.”

Harri clenched her teeth. If this kid’s case didn’t keep her mind off her godson, nothing else on earth would.

Hero Ad Litem - Chapter 2

I've been sick as a dog for the last week and a half, and I'm still not one hundred percent. If you sent me a message, I'm slowly getting back to all of you. All I ask is that you give me a few more days.

In the meantime, here's a tidbit to tide you over...

------------------

Present Day

Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful. However, Susan Kennedy was glad she wore jeans and a sweatshirt emblazoned with her law school alma mater. The light hadn’t burned off all of the desert’s chill fog when she exited the Lechuza Building, a little reminder that it was still technically winter.

She strolled down Sixth Street, her goal to pick up breakfast at Celia’s store. Traffic was almost non-existent this early on the weekend. Two doors from the bodega, she paused in front of what would become the first of Rey, Reuben, and Emilio’s restaurant empire.

“Eggsactly” had been stenciled on the largest window to the right of the door. The guys had already cut a deal with Celia for the recipes of her tamales and breakfast burritos. In addition to that revenue, Susan had found a factory to produce and package Celia’s spice mix. The breakfast place would be the third new business in the Canyon Block.

The downfall of Canyon Industries after the last scion of the Canyon family was accused of murdering his wife and son twenty-one years ago had left the northeast section of the city destitute. If Rey Garcia was going to save the Canyon Block and the people who lived in it as an investor and as the superhero Black Falcon, Susan would do her damnedest to make sure he had the tools to make both happen.

She grinned as she peered through the glass. Her next door neighbor Miguel Esperanza and his construction crew had done a fine job on the interior. Miguel respected the Art Deco designs of the surviving Canyon Block buildings. He worked with the architecture instead of making the storefront something it wasn’t meant to be.

“Susan?”

She slowly pivoted. The tall, dark-haired man behind her wore khakis and a polo beneath a navy windbreaker. Dark glasses shielded his eyes from the rising sun. None of which disguised the fact he was her law partner Harri Winters’ ex-husband, FBI Special Agent Edward Lewis.

“Doesn’t Sarah have an electric shock collar on you that goes off if you come to the Canyon Block, Eddie?”

A whisper of a smile floated across his face. “I’m still one hundred yards away from Harri. Besides, I heard through the grapevine she and Tim tied the knot over New Year’s weekend.”

“Is your current wife okay now that your ex-wife is hitched?”

Eddie chuckled. “Not one bit.” He sobered. “Unfortunately, I’m here on business. My boss wants your opinion on something.”

Susan folded her arms. “And why isn’t Special Agent in Charge Consuelo contacting Harri?”

“Because she needs someone who can keep their cool, and we both know Harri’s not the most level-headed attorney at Winters and Franklin.”

“And because Aisha’s in Paris.”

Eddie shrugged.

Crap. Susan expected something to hit the fan once the Garcia-Franklins left for Europe, but a summons by the head of the Canyon Pointe FBI on a Sunday morning was not going to be good. She eyed Eddie. “Can I get some breakfast first?”

“Depends. How strong’s your stomach?”

Nope, definitely not good.

“Shouldn’t you be calling in the NSB and a super?”

He gestured further down the street. She looked to her left.

Past the traffic light, another federal agent stood by a parked blue SUV. The woman was dressed similarly to Eddie, but she wore the black windbreaker of the National Superhero Bureau. The firm’s client Qiang Reilly AKA Sparx stood next to the agent. However, Qiang wore civilian clothing. Both woman were watching Susan with frowns on their faces.

Crap. This was really, really bad if the FBI and the NSB were working together on this one.

“Let me grab a tea at Celia’s for the ride if you want a coherent legal opinion.”

##

Three hours later, Susan watered some sage brush with her tea. When she was sure she had nothing left her stomach, she wiped her mouth on the back of her sweatshirt sleeve.

“Want some water to wash out the taste?” Qiang held out a bottle for her.

“Thanks.” Susan unscrewed the cap, took a swig, and swished the liquid around her mouth before she spit out the water in the direction of her vomit.

“First body?” the superhero asked sympathetically.

“How’d you guess?” Susan said bitterly.

The NSB’s special agent in charge for Canyon Pointe Wilbur Nesmith approached them. Susan had never seen the sixty-something man in less than a full suit, and he didn’t disappoint, even though they were in the middle of the Polvo de Oro Desert.

“You okay, Ms. Kennedy?”

“Just peachy.” She took a small sip of water to ease the ache in her stomach. “I am questioning your intelligence. You don’t need me or Ms. Reilly out here. You need a good forensics team and a lab.” She waved toward the techs who were taking samples of everything. “For all you know, this was a hiker or a motorist who got lost.”

The FBI’s special agent in charge Sylvia Consuelo joined them. “I would have preferred the Ghost Owl, but they’re out of pocket at the moment. You two are the next best thing we’ve got.”

“This is the one Sunday a month I have to run personal errands,” Qiang growled. “I’m the last person to suggest Harri be involved, but there’s obviously a reason you don’t want her here. I suggest you spill before I start electrocuting people.”

“Oh, my god,” Susan whispered. “You think that’s Byron Trubble, don’t you?”

The look Nesmith and Consuelo exchanged said she was right.

“So he was stupid and died out here.” Qiang threw up her hands. “You found him. You saved the taxpayers a buttload of money by not having to send him back to prison. Case closed. It’s Miller time.”

“Not exactly.” Nesmith scratched his chin.

“It looks like two bullet wounds to the back of the head,” Consuelo said.

“How do you know for sure?” Susan demanded. “With that much decomposition—”

“I used work in the Las Vegas office.” The FBI agent smirked. “I’ve seen more than my share of shallow graves in a desert.”

Susan glanced at the techs before she returned her attention back to the federal agents. “I still don’t understand what you want from us.”

“Has Harri ever mentioned her grandmother’s involvement with Eagle Forever?” Nesmith asked.

“No,” Qiang blurted.

“Mrs. Winters donated to his charities, but you have access to her tax returns.” Susan scowled at Nesmith and Consuelo. “Where are you going with this?”

“Considering Carol Inunza is doing time for attempted murder, that leaves two suspects who would want Trubble dead,” Consuelo said.

“Then I suggest you start with the supervillain who abducted him,” Susan shot back.

Qiang lowered her voice even though no one was near them. “You don’t think Trubble authorized the hit on Eagle Forever, and Seismic Shift was acting on someone else’s orders.”

Again, the two agents exchanged looks that admitted everything.

“So why not ask Harri about her grandmother directly?” Susan asked.

“One, we don’t want her going on one of her half-cocked crusades,” Consuelo grumbled. “Do you have any idea how many reports have crossed my desks that mention her name?”

“Two, we want to give someone at the Lechuza Building forewarning.” Nesmith’s gray hair fluttered in the chill breeze coming down off the mountains. “Lyle Baxter-Murray, aka Judge Pablo Inunza, wasn’t the only suspected super child who disappeared fifty years ago. We know Trubble was hunting them. And we also know an unknown party was hunting those kids, too. We think Eagle Forever was helping those families hide their kids, including his own daughter and grandson.”

“What does this have to do with Mrs. Winters?” Susan asked.

Nesmith blew out a gusty breath. “We’re concerned our third party may go after your law partner on the mistaken belief she knows something. We have reason to believe her grandmother was funding Eagle Forever’s underground railroad for supers.”

Hero Ad Litem - Chapter 1

While I catch up on some necessary administrative tasks around the office, here's an unedited preview of June's release.

-----------------------

Five months ago

#

Byron S. Trubble would have laughed if his life didn’t depend on his silence. The old battleax and her stooges thought they’d broken him. He’d only given one real name and location to Peggy Reinhold. One of the kids that died in a training accident. The rest of the information he supposedly spilled was total bullshit.

If anyone should have known that torture wasn’t a reliable method of extracting information, it should have the woman who used to be Rue Liberty.

And if she were smarter, she would have recruited more people with powers than just her daughter. Maybe even a telepath to dig through his head.

Like he did in Corvus.

He slunk along the dry limestone wall. The fishy smell meant he was getting close to the bunker’s entrance.

His last escape attempt failed because he was stupid enough to believe the new Ghost Owl was Pablo Inunza’s son. Nope, it had to be the Garcia kid’s twin brother. With their ties to the Winters and Franklin law firm, the goodie-two-shoes brothers would have had Professor Venom trace his call to Aisha Franklin.

What if the bitch didn’t tell them about his call? What if he really miscalculated and Franklin was part of Reinhold’s little organization?

Trubble blew out a deep breath. If he wanted to keep breathing, he needed to move. He stepped into the night and waited for his vision to adjust. Beneath the moonlight, rust covered the steel escape stairs. The damn things were nearly as old as he was. One step onto them, and he could plummet into the Rio Cristo fifty feet below. If he didn’t hit a rock on the way down, the rapids would drown him.

However, free-hand rock climbing a canyon wall in the dark was an even stupider option.

Trubble grabbed the railing.

He didn’t touch rust. It felt more like paint. He gently flicked the railing with his forefinger and snickered at the bell tone. The old biddy had replaced the escape stairs and painted them to look like they were the original decrepit ones.

Still, he tapped the landing with his foot in the stolen boot to make sure. Yep, damn solid.

Trubble eased down the steps, not out of worry of plummeting to his death, but so the sentries above and the possible ones below didn’t hear him. He could handle a couple of punks as long as they weren’t supers.

Air came in short, desperate gasps when he reached the trail at the bottom of the stairs. Despite his best efforts at exercise and diet, he was seventy. This getting old crap sucked, but the torture hadn’t helped either. Maybe he was too stubborn to die.

Trubble chuckled at his own idiocy as he ducked under the “No Trespassing” sign. He headed north along the canyon trail for Logan Grove. Normally, the ten-mile hike would be three hours or so. With the guard drugged and in his cell, Trubble estimated he’d have four hours until they missed him.

Logan Grove might have only consisted of a few houses and a general store in the Seventies, but now, it was a decent-sized town with a vehicle or two he could steal. Then it became a matter of disappearing until he could access the money he deposited offshore.

After two hours by the moon, his legs cramped something fierce. He didn’t want the break, but he couldn’t afford falling out here. A thigh-high boulder provided a resting spot. He perched on it and rubbed his calves.

“Not so easy running away from your past, is it, old man?”

Trubble froze at Monica Reinhold’s voice behind him. So much for his brilliant plan.

“Kill me and get it over with, Miss Purrception,” he snarled. “I’m not going back with you.”

Monica dropped in front of him. She had her mother’s classic hourglass figure, but she was so more…flexible. A matte black bodysuit with a matching cowl and boots covered her from head to toe. Eye black cover her exposed skin around her orbs.

“Tell her what she wants to know, Byron.” Weariness coated her words.



“We both know the minute I do, I’m dead.” “Tell me then. I’ll tell her I killed you and disposed of your body. We all get what we want.”

“She’s not going to believe you killed me, Monica.” His breath clouded in the cold mountain air. “For your vaunted reputation as a murderer and thief, we both know you’re not cold-blooded enough to kill an unarmed man.”

“I’ve killed before,” she snapped.

“An accident while defending yourself is not the same thing.”

“Maybe I should toss you in the river,” she said. “With that cold mountain water, hypothermia is a fairly easy way to go.”

“I can’t let you do that,” he said.

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” She snorted. “And everyone calls me a supervillain.”

“What prison did we break out of?” he shot back.

“Either you kill me or you tell me the names. Those are the only ways you get to leave here alive.” Monica sounded deadly serious. There was none of her usual mockery in her tone.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Trubble said, and for once, he meant it. “But I’m not betraying those people. Harriet and I made sure they were well out of your mother’s reach. They lived normal lives. You and your daughters are an experiment to her.”

“If you hadn’t taken my girls, she wouldn’t have gotten custody of them,” she sneered.

“That’s because Byron’s a blunt instrument,” a husky feminine voice said. Another dark figure landed on the trail, well out of Monica’s reach. “I should have known you’d betray me, too, my dear.”

“Why do you have to spoil all my games, Mother?” Monica complained. “I could have gotten the names for you if you hadn’t interrupted.”

“Because you’re even more a sentimental idiot than he is?” Peggy Reinhold raised her arm, a gun in her hand.

“You promised I could kill him once you got the names from him,” Monica screeched.

“I promise a lot of people a lot of things.” Peggy’s laughter was still as low and throaty as it had been fifty years ago. “Including your father. I didn’t keep those vows either.

The muzzle of her gun flashed--

New Release Day - A Vero Hero New Year!

We got an early present. Genius Kid and Puppy Anubis are in town for the week. Princess Bella was slightly disturbed at having two oversized visitors.

Or she was until she discovered how delicious Puppy Anubis's food and snacks are.

Also, A Very Hero New Year dropped today. It's available right now at Amazon. I'll update links on the 888-555-HERO page as they go live.

Have a great December 1st!

A Very Hero New Year - Chapter 4

Like it's predecessor A Very Hero Christmas, the characters are rather insistant that A Very Hero New Year be longer than the light, humorous novella I'd originally planned.

Here's your last taste before the whatever-length-this-book-ends-being comes out on December 1st!

-----------------------------
Steve’s gut twisted as he touched down on the law school’s roof patio with Mariah in his arms. All the other students stared at him. A few even had out their phones, no doubt taking both still pictures as well as video.

At the forefront of the crowd stood his friends. Bethany and Nick stared at him with open mouths. Carter, however, scowled at him.

“Mariah,” Steve whispered. “We’re back on the roof. Do you think you can stand?”

Her eyes were still squeezed tight, and she shook her head vigorously against his chest.

Carter charged toward him. “What the fuck, man? All the crap you give me about being rich, and you’re a super?”

“I do not give you crap,” Steve growled through clenched teeth. “And now is definitely not the time for this discussion.”

“Get me out of here.” Mariah’s words were followed by a sob.

Dammit, he couldn’t leave her alone. And he couldn’t do a thing about all the witnesses either. So, he did what he usually did when faced with a major problem. He plowed forward.

The other students parted to let Mariah and him pass.

“Steve, wait.” Bethany caught up with them. “You’re going to need some help tonight.” He hated to admitted, she was right. Mariah need more help than he knew how to give, and Aisha would be chewing him a new one for displaying his powers in public the minute she found out. He just hoped he’d be the one to tell her.

He gave Bethany a curt nod. “Come on.”

She rushed ahead of him and Mariah and opened the stairwell door. Pounding footsteps and gasping breath announced Nick’s presence.

“I’m coming with you guys,” he said.

“Is that okay, Mariah?” Steve murmured.

She clutched his shirt and whimpered, “Just don’t let me go.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder. The other students continued to stare at him, and no one spoke a word, even among themselves. That settled any indecision he had. He headed down the stairs.

“I’ll drive your truck,” Nick said as he and Bethany jogged after Steve. “You need to focus on her.”

“Are you saying girls can’t drive trucks?” Bethany bit out.

“I know damn well you can’t drive a manual transmission,” Nick shot back. “I can. You take my car and follow us.”

Once they were out of the building and in the parking lot, Bethany dug into Steve’s pocket for his keys and traded them for Nick’s set. Bethany whirled and raced for Nick’s car two rows over from the truck. Nick made sure Steve and Mariah were settled in the passenger seat of the pickup before he carefully shut the door, ran around to the driver side and slid into the seat.

“Wait,” Steve said right before Nick turned the ignition. “How much have you had to drink? Last thing either of us need is to get picked up for DUI.”

“Only a couple of swallows from my cup before you arrived.” Nick started the truck and shot Steve a look. “I am not Carter.”

“Never said you were.” Steve reached behind the seat and grabbed the emergency blanket. Mariah shivered so hard her teeth chattered. However, the city retained so much of the day’s heat, the temperatures were still in the high seventies. Which meant she was going into shock.

Steve wrapped Mariah in the blanket and held her tight in his right arm while he tugged his phone out of his pocket with his left hand. He scrolled through his contacts and tapped Serena’s number.

The line rang three times before Serena mumbled, “This better be good, Connors.”

He quickly explained the situation with Mariah’s threat to jump and how he talked her off the ledge.

“Ese, you need to take her to the ER,” she said. “I don’t do mental health issues.”

Crap. He wanted to avoid the rest of the truth, but Serena wouldn’t be as ticked off as Aisha.

“I can’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “She started to climb back onto the roof and slipped. I had to use my powers to save her, and she’s so freaked by the partial fall I think she’s going into shock, which a physical issue.”

“Oh, my god,” Serena whispered. “Did anyone see you?”

“Yes,” he bit out. “Make a left on MLK,” he said to Nick. Thankfully, his fellow student focused on the streets and traffic, and he didn’t ask questions.

Yet, anyway. Steve knew Nick and Bethany would demand answers later.

“Who’s with you?” Serena demanded.

“A friend I trust to keep his mouth shut,” Steve barked. “Can you help this girl or not?”

“I’ll meet you at Lechuza,” Serena snapped back. The line went dead.

“She’s intense,” Nick commented.

“Not as intense as my girlfriend.” Despite the quip, Steve could visualize Qiang’s reaction. She was a fiercely private person. When the story got out about his rescue of Mariah, she wouldn’t just chew him out like Aisha would.

No, Qiang would electrocute him.