Kim Fielding and F.E. Feeley Jr. have a new & haunting gay horror book out now:
Can you hear it?
Whispering in the dark.
Secrets only the dark knows.
Joseph Moore, choir director for the First Baptist Church of Lenora, Nebraska, has secrets of his own. Terrible, lonely secrets. One that involves natural human desire. One that calls forth powers he cannot begin to understand. Both with the potential to destroy him and those he loves.
Now the world is changing. The darkness, the shadows, the ghosts, are closing in—and Joseph and his lover, Kevin, are being stalked by a merciless demon, hell-bent on possession.
Can you hear it now?
There in the dark.
It’s whispering your name.
Warnings: violence. This is not a romance.
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Thanks Kim for dropping by!
What is your writing Kryptonite?
Procrastination. I find it really easy to put off writing, mainly because I have so many other things on my to-do list. It doesn’t really feel like procrastination or irresponsibility if you’re doing something you’re supposed to do, right?
The problem with this is that there are always other things on my to-do list. If I continually address them first, I’ll never write a word (except for adding more things to the list!). So I try to balance tasks by triaging and tackling the most critical items first, then making myself settle in to write. Almost always, once I open up a document and begin typing, the writing flows smoothly from that point on.
What do you do when you get writer’s block?
“Almost always, once I open up a document and begin typing, the writing flows smoothly from that point on.” Yeah, well, almost always. Sometimes the words just don’t come.
The first step, for me, in dealing with this situation is finding the cause. It’s never a lack of ideas—I have zillions of those. But often I’m not sure what needs to happen next in a story (I’m a big-time pantser). If that’s the case, I make myself write anything: The Scene Where Hero Does His Laundry. The Scene Where Hero Watches TV. The Scene Where Hero Can’t Find Her Car Keys. Or, alternatively, I throw something completely random into the story. Once it was a platypus. I do this knowing these scenes can eventually be cut, but the process of creating them often unsticks my gears.
Sometimes I get writer’s block for more internal reasons: my emotional state doesn’t fit what I’m working on or doesn’t suit writing at all. I solve that by reading (or rereading) someone else’s really great story. That often inspires me to sit back down at my keyboard.
When nothing else works, I resort to water. For some mysterious reason, my muse likes to get soaked. So I’ll take a shower or—better yet—soak in a hot bath. That nearly always gets me back on track.
Do you use a pseudonym? If so, why? If not, why not?
I do. My real name is difficult for most people to spell and pronounce. Also, I publish academic textbooks and journal articles under that (unusual) name, and I think it’s a good practice to keep that part of me separate from fiction-writing me (who has way more fun).
What are some day jobs that you have held? If any of them impacted your writing, share an example.
I’ve had the same day job—criminal justice professor—forever. It has affected my writing mostly by enabling me to write accurately about cops, prisons, lawyers, and so on.
But while I was in school, I had a variety of other jobs. My first was at McDonald’s, where I worked the drive-through on Friday and Saturday nights. I also worked at a deli (where I was robbed at gunpoint), volunteered at a science museum, clerked at a law firm, and did work for a nonprofit legal services association that served children at risk. And I spent several months helping to proofread the collected works of the linguist Edwin. I think all of these jobs gave me better appreciation for how people make a living in a variety of ways.
Tell me one thing hardly anyone knows about you.
When I was a kid, my mom ran a small commercial bread bakery out of our house. This spoiled me forever, making me really picky about my bread. Consequently, I bake almost all of our bread rather than buying it at the store. It tastes so much better and there is an endless variety of types you can make. I often go the simple route, throwing ingredients into my bread machine and letting it do all the work. I have a loaf almost ready right now, in fact—sour cream white. But sometimes I like to experiment. Recently, for example, I started making baguettes and using a banneton (proofing basket) to make textured loaves.
There is no better smell in the world than baking bread.
Were you a voracious reader as a child?
Of course. My parents had to punish me by sending me to my room with no books. One time I remained motionless for so long while reading outside that a spider constructed an entire web between me and the chair back. Neither of us was pleased when I finally noticed that. My parents used to take me to the library often, and I also had a monthly book allowance for the bookstore.
As a kid, I read pretty widely. One thing I appreciate about my parents is that they never restricted or redirected my reading choices. That’s something I’ve practiced with my own kids. I’ve encouraged them to read, and I’ve sometimes bought or recommended particular books, but I’ve never intervened.
How did you choose the topic for this book?
I’ve always loved Leonard Cohen’s song “Hallelujah.” I have maybe a half dozen versions on my playlist, although my favorites are Rufus Wainwright’s and Cohen’s own. It’s such a beautiful, haunting piece. Then I saw this video, in which two men perform a gorgeous dance to that song.
Not long afterward, Freddy and I were chatting and the subject of the video arose (although I don’t remember the context). We started discussing it… and our story was born. We ended up going in some unexpected directions, and it was a blast to collaborate on this.
What was the weirdest thing you had to Google for your story?
Joseph Moore is a farmer in rural Nebraska. Consequently, I had to do some research on topics related to growing corn. I’ve lived in the Midwest, including Nebraska, but I didn’t know anything about farming. I didn’t need to learn a lot, but I did need some relevant details, such as specific planting and harvest times as well as irrigation methods. I also picked up some general information. It’s tough to be an independent farmer—always has been, I think—and I learned more about that struggle.
Don’t worry, the book isn’t actually about growing corn. You’re not going to come away with a working knowledge of herbicides and combines. But that background was really important for setting the right tone and background for our characters.
What was the hardest part of writing this book?
I can’t say too much without giving things away. But I can tell you that this is a horror novel, which means we did things to our characters that we wouldn’t have if this were a romance. Some of those things can be difficult to write when you’ve grown fond of a character. So, um… yeah.
Kim and F.E. are giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this cover reveal and tour. For a chance to win, enter via Rafflecopter:
Joseph fought against the hands on his shoulders. The room was sweltering, and all his strength had sapped away.
“Joseph, open your eyes! Open your eyes, dammit!”
He was being shaken, and despite his unwillingness, his eyes opened. Kevin’s face stared down at him.
“Fuck you. Let me go!”
Joseph pulled away and fell backward onto the altar steps. His attempt to break the fall caused his wrist to smart painfully, and he whimpered. His whole body shook; he felt sick to his stomach.
Kevin raised his hands in surrender. “What the hell, man? Who did this to you?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’? You’re beat to shit. Did someone jump you?”
Joseph looked down and saw his scratched-up legs and swollen ankle. He scanned the sanctuary, half expecting the shadowed figure to be lurking somewhere nearby. But that wasn’t the case. All the lights were on, brilliantly illuminating every corner. There was no sign of the spirit who normally haunted the place.
“Who are you looking for?”
Joseph faced Kevin once again. “What? No one. What are you doing here?”
Although Kevin had been bare-chested at their last meeting, he was wearing a shirt now. Well, part of a shirt. It was an old Budweiser tee with the sleeves cut out and the sides wide open. When he moved, it revealed glimpses of his chest and flat stomach. Joseph felt his face flush as he averted his gaze.
“I was driving by and saw all the lights on and the door open. Figured the joint was getting robbed or somethin’. Then I found you wailing on the floor in…. Damn, dude. Look at your wrist.”
Joseph saw it was swollen. The memory of where he’d been flashed in his mind once more. The red-eyed gaze was burned into his memory.
But that had all been a dream, hadn’t it?
Please, Lord, let it have been a dream.
“Who did this to you?” Kevin repeated with a furrowed brow.
“Nobody. Look, I came back here because I thought I left something, and I fell. I must have banged my head or something.”
“You fell. Where? Into a war zone?”
Joseph snorted a laugh and looked up at him ruefully. “I don’t know what happened.” He hoped Kevin would leave it alone.
Outside, thunder crashed loudly enough to make them jump, and through the front door of the church, they could see the rain falling in torrents.
“Shit, my car windows!” Kevin took off running.
Joseph watched him go, Kevin’s ass bouncing as his long legs carried him out of the door. “Dammit,” Joseph muttered as he clenched his eyes closed.
He tried to get up, but as soon as he put weight on his ankle, it gave and forced him to sit back down.
What am I going to do?
Just then he saw the ghost once more. She was floating on the upstairs balcony, looking down at him. Her mouth was moving, and if Joseph sat really still, he swore he could hear her words, carried on the wind that howled through the open church door.
Rock of Ages, cleft for me
Let me hide myself in thee
He felt sadness wash over him. She wasn’t terrible to look at; in life she must have been quite beautiful. But he didn’t know how to help her.
“You must help them, cher.” Celine had said.
Kevin dashed in through the door. His jeans were soaked and his wannabe T-shirt stuck to his muscular build. “Well, we got two options.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“We could wait out the storm before I take you home, or I can haul your crippled ass right now into said storm and take you home.”
Joseph reached out his good hand to Kevin, who grasped it and pulled. Joseph lurched to his feet and, in trying to keep the weight off his swollen ankle, ended up clinging to Kevin. They were almost nose to nose, staring into each other’s eyes as they held fast.
Blood pounded in his Joseph’s head. “I gotta get home.”
Kevin’s long eyelashes fluttered once, twice, three times before registering what he’d said. Yet his hands didn’t move. The two of them looked as if they were on a dance floor waiting for a waltz to start.
“Yeah, let’s get you home. Here, lean on me.”
“I appreciate it.”
They moved slowly across the floor of the church.
“You gonna tell me who did this?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Crazy shit, man.”
Joseph nodded. “Yup. It’s been a hell of a night.”
They closed the door behind them, got into the car, and drove cautiously into the downpour with the windshield wipers slapping.
Five minutes later, the lights they’d forgotten to turn off went dark.
Kim Fielding is the bestselling author of numerous m/m romance novels, novellas, and short stories. Like Kim herself, her work is eclectic, spanning genres such as contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, and historical. Her stories are set in alternate worlds, in 15th century Bosnia, in modern-day Oregon. Her heroes are hipster architect werewolves, housekeepers, maimed giants, and conflicted graduate students. They’re usually flawed, they often encounter terrible obstacles, but they always find love.
After having migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States, Kim calls California home. She lives there with her family and her day job as a university professor, but escapes as often as possible via car, train, plane, or boat. This may explain why her characters often seem to be in transit as well. She dreams of traveling and writing full-time.
Author Website: http://kfieldingwrites.com
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/KFieldingWrites/
Author Twitter: @KFieldingWrites
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kfieldingwrites/
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4105707.Kim_Fielding
Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/kim-fielding/
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Kim-Fielding/
F.E. Feeley Jr.
First and foremost, I am a husband to my wonderful husband, John. I am a father of our five-year-old German Shephard, Kaiser. I am an avid reader of Mysteries, Horror, and Suspense, and biographies. I am a gamer. My favorite ones are Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Star Trek Online, Skyrim, Assassin’s Creed, Fallout, and Civilization Five. I love to cook and I love trying new recipes (hint hint). I am an avid music junkie from POPular music to Opera, to Showtunes, Gospel, Rock, Rap, and Hip Hop. I am also a Poet – a lot of which is offered on this web page for free. And I do some gay fiction writing from time to time.
I love connecting with people. As an ex- fundi, I grew up in a world where there was this invisible boundary set down between me and the world around me. I felt more like an observer than an actual participant in that world. Since I’ve left fundamentalism – it has been my constant endeavor to be a part of the world. To be a part of humanity. And when I write my poetry or my books, I draw from the experiences of being raised in that environment as well as the experiences of tasting the bouquet of humanity I’d been denied all those years ago.
Author Website: https://fefeeleyjr.com
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/groups/170296487228770/
Author Twitter: @fefeeleyjr
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/f.e.feeleyjr/
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6806438.F_E_Feeley_Jr_
Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/f-e-feeley-jr/
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/F-E-Feeley-Jr/