WIP Wednesday
There’s joy in delivery, but there’s also pain. Be it delivering a baby (which I can’t do), or the delivery of a large box from my parents, the suffering and elation are mixed in.
I only state the obvious because I’m planning to give birth
to a new pen name. This pseudonym will be used for LGBTQ+ romance, but of the
sweet and low heat variety.
Leave a comment if you are interested in learning more, or,
if this is too public a spot, please email me so I can put your name on my new
subscriber list.
I have two and a quarter sweet romances written. One of
them, A Bone to Pick, has been submitted to a new publisher. I’ll let you know
how that goes!
Here’s a sneak peek from Reed My Lips (Les Orchestrations
1), which is currently under Emily Carrington.
The premise: Two musicians in an all-female orchestra in the
DC area begin falling for each other. Homophobia from others and their own
insecurities try to keep them apart, but love conquers all division.
Les Orchestrations was a play on
words, Alejandra had been told. The name of the orchestra she’d joined when
first moving up here from Miami was pronounced “Less orkestraseeon” in the
French style. But the conductor, who was a lesbian, had wanted a place where
all women, but mostly lesbians, could play without interference from men.
Or
that was what Alejandra had picked up based on the number of out lesbians in
this group.
And
those who weren’t out were either obviously straight, like Sophie, or maybe
closeted.
Of
course, only Alejandra seemed to fall into that second category.
As
she unpacked her oboe, she glanced toward the center of the room, noting that
Sophie was already here…but dressed in the gaudiest… Alejandra blinked and told
herself not to be foolish. Just because it looked like a Pride shirt, well, it
was June. Maybe Sophie had lesbian or gay people in her life.
Sophie
was certainly not a lesbian. She had a little boy. And, more conclusive, she
was married to a man.
Maybe
she was bisexual?
Well,
and that was none of Alejandra’s business. Just because her stomach twisted
itself into an uneasy knot didn’t mean she had any business prying into
Sophie’s life. Besides, even if she’d
been so foolish as to approach her secret crush, she wasn’t an idiot. All
Sophie would tell her could be boiled down into two words: “I’m unavailable.”
And
Alejandra wouldn’t risk anyone knowing she was interested in women. That was a
risk she couldn’t take, personally or financially.
Her
hands were slick with sweat and she wiped them, one at a time, on her jeans
while she still cradled her oboe. Like all the other women in Les
Orchestrations, she was wearing denim below and a respectable, feminine or
nonbinary shirt on top. It wasn’t exactly a uniform, not like the black they
all wore for concerts. But it certainly wasn’t meant to include a shirt with….
She squinted but all she could make out was a rainbow of some sort. Maybe it
was foolish of her to assume it was a Pride T-shirt.
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