#MFRWauthor Book Spotlight: Stone and Shell @LloydAMeeker

Lloyd A. Meeker released Stone and Shell - A Solstice Tale!
Eight-year-old Howie Evinger is convinced that his dad would be happier if he found a new husband. Howie would be happier, too. And somewhere out there in the city of Vancouver, there's the right man for his dad to love. But how to find him? That’s a problem, especially if you’re just a kid and your dad says he doesn’t want another husband.

With the help of his quirky aunt who calls herself a Buddhist Wiccan, Howie builds his very own solstice altar with cool symbols to support his search. It has a candle, a feather and a twisty stick, plus an agate for his dad, and a scallop shell for his new husband. Share Howie’s solstice adventure as he learns how real magic requires courage and patience as well as symbols.

Buy Link!

EXCERPT
Maybe the stone and the shell were too close to the candle. Howie wasn’t sure how this stuff worked. He studied his Solstice altar, made out of a wooden TV tray covered in a piece of dark green cloth. He felt nervous, like sitting in a surprise math test he hadn’t prepared for. He had dreams like that sometimes. He hated math.
If he left his objects too close together, would his wish cover enough territory? Vancouver was a big city. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and frowned. Shanna, who was really his aunt Shannon, even though she didn’t let him call her that, would know how it worked.
She’d taught him about symbols last week, which was a totally cool idea. Then she helped him build his Solstice altar and told him to place his symbols wherever he felt was right for them. The problem was he didn’t know how to place them so his wish, which sat like a giant lump inside him, would come true. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask her about placement rules for wishes.
Dad was working late tonight, and the house was a lot nicer when someone was home already. Back when his dad and Joel were together, they’d had a big Buddha statue, which was the first thing anybody saw when they came in the front door. It was like having a friend waiting for you to come home. Joel had taken it to Toronto with him, and the house felt different without it. He’d told Dad he didn’t mind that it wasn’t there anymore, but he actually did. He didn’t want to be a wuss and complain, though. His best friend, Ricky, was lucky. The Liu family had a gold Buddha set up in their house with all kinds of beautiful stuff around it, even incense. Howie liked the smell, but it made him sneeze sometimes.
Shanna would come soon, and he’d help her get dinner ready. Usually on Dad’s late days, all three of them would eat together, which was nice. It was lasagna tonight, Howie knew, because Dad had made it on the weekend and had frozen most of it for nights like this.
So when Shanna got there in a bit, he’d ask her how Solstice altars worked. She’d know what to do. She’d told him all about Druids and the Solstice and the Celts who were Howie’s ancestors. When he said he thought his grandparents were English, Shanna got a little mad and said just because someone is born in a barn, doesn’t mean he’s a horse. Howie didn’t get it entirely, but he’d stuck with being from the Celts after that.

ABOUT Lloyd A. Meeker
I’m a mystic, writer, healer, lover, cancer survivor, father, friend. I write (mostly) gay fiction featuring all those paths and more. Having led what can only be described as a checkered life, I can honestly say I’m grateful for all of it. I’ve been a minister, an office worker, a janitor, a drinker, and a software developer on my way to finishing my first novel in 2004. But basically I’m just a weather-worn psychic empath still learning how to live in the world just the way it is. The thing is, I experience the world as so much more than is generally accepted. That’s the challenge. Writing stories is the best way I’ve found to examine and share the questions, the wonders I engage daily.

My husband and I have been together since 2002, married since 2007. Between us we have four children and five grandchildren. We're based in south Florida, and work hard to keep up with the astonishing life we've created for ourselves.

www.lloydmeeker.com  |  https://twitter.com/LloydAMeeker
Amazon Author Page  |  https://www.facebook.com/lloyd.a.meeker/
REVIEW COPIES AVAILABLE!
Email Lloyd HERE to receive a review copy. Review expected within a week of delivery.

The Power of Disillusionment – by MFRW Feature Author of the Month Lloyd A. Meeker

 For years, I had a quote pinned up on the wall of my work-place cubicle attributed to congressional historian Daniel J Boorstin: “The greatest obstacle to discovering the shape of the earth, the continents, and the oceans was not ignorance, but rather the illusion of knowledge."

I'd like to share with you something of my enthusiasm for disillusionment – the loss of illusion. Discovery is an essential part of any plot, from clues in a murder mystery, to trust (misplaced, real or withheld) in a romance, geographic exploration in an adventure, or finding inner strength in the Hero’s Journey. While the need for discovery is always present in our stories, the context for the discovery is infinitely changeable.

Perhaps the most important variable is the protagonist’s own attitude toward discovery. That could be the beginning of his character arc: he may be certain he doesn’t need to change, or that he is as self-sufficient as his reputation says he is. He may be convinced a situation is hopeless. He may believe he is not worthy of love. This is where the story gets really interesting! How the hero handles that discovery is a crucial revelation of his character. What is he really made of? What he does when a cherished illusion is dispelled will show it in spades.

The classic example is an altruistic young person who, full of optimism and naïveté approaches the world of commerce as if everyone were as honest as she is. That person soon finds out that altruism, if it is to be a kind influence in a person's life must be tempered with realistic caution.

While I rhapsodize about the profound value of cognitive dissonance, I don’t enjoy the pain and sadness (or embarrassment!) I can feel when a cherished belief proves to be false. I believe emotional pain is probably the worst teacher of reality – certainly the harshest. The problem is that so often it’s the only teacher left to us because we’ve rejected kinder, less cataclysmic ones. We can be so damn stubborn or blind about what we’re certain is true – the illusion of knowledge.

In the case of Shepherd Bucknam, the protagonist in my new novel The Companion, disillusionment is a great but pain-inducing ally, in two particular instances. When the story begins, he doesn’t see any need for him to change. Privately, he carries a bitter disrespect for his dead alcoholic mother, believing that she didn’t really love him. He is also afraid that a recurring nightmare foretells his violent death.

In both these matters he discovers that what he thinks is true is not true at all, and the shock of discovery opens him to new experience and real growth as a human being. What happens next? Well, you’ll have to read the story to find out!

And I sincerely hope you do… :D

 

Blurb for The Companion

Shepherd Bucknam hasn’t had a lover in more than a decade, and doesn’t need one. As a Daka, he coaches men in the sacred art and mystery of sexual ecstasy all the time, and he loves his work. It’s his calling. In fact, he’s perfectly content—except for the terrors of his recurring nightmare, and the ominous blood-red birthmarks on his neck. He’s convinced that together they foretell his early and violent death.

When Shepherd’s young protégé is murdered, LAPD Detective Marco Fidanza gets the case. The two men are worlds apart: Marco has fought hard for everything he’s accomplished, in sharp contrast to the apparent ease of Shepherd’s inherited wealth—but their mutual attraction is too hot for either of them to ignore.

Shepherd swears he’ll help find his protégé’s killer but Marco warns him to stay out of it. When an influential politician is implicated, the police investigation grinds to a halt. Shepherd hires his own investigator. Marco calls it dangerous meddling.

As their volatile relationship deepens, Shepherd discovers his nightmares might not relate to the future, but to the deadly legacy of a past life—a life he may have to revisit before he can fully live and love in this one.

Buy Links, Social Media:

At Dreamspinner:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5243

On Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Companion-Lloyd-Meeker-ebook/dp/B00M28O24S/

www.lloydmeeker.com

https://twitter.com/LloydAMeeker

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/MBe1gp

https://www.facebook.com/lloyd.meeker

In this excerpt, Shepherd is a suspect in the murder of his friend and protégé Steven Lewis. Detective Marco Fidanza, who is soon to be Shepherd’s lover, has called Shepherd to the police station for more questioning.

I DIDN’T see any visitor parking at the police station, so I took a meter on the street and reported to the desk. Five minutes later, Fidanza appeared and steered me to what could only be an interrogation room. Two chairs and a metal table with a welded bracket in the middle—for restraints, I guessed. Not even a wastebasket. That was it. The air smelled of pine disinfectant, but I didn’t want to think of why the place might have needed disinfecting.

He pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.” He put a recorder on the table and sat across from me. He spoke in a brusque monotone into the recorder: date, time, people present, case number, murder of Steven Lewis.

Using the same voice, he read me my rights and asked if I understood them. I said yes, and my attorney was waiting for my call if needed.

He studied the open file in front of him as if he hadn’t heard what I’d said or its warning. But then I’d threatened to call my lawyer yesterday. He probably heard that all the time.

“You say you were a friend of the deceased.” He sounded nonchalant, even bored. Even without Juergen’s warning, he didn’t fool me for a second.

“Yes, I was.”

“How close a friend?”

“I was his mentor. We were intimate friends.”

“Physically intimate?”

“Certainly. Once a month, sometimes more often. For his lesson.”

Fidanza looked up, and his lip curled. “A lesson in sex.”

I shook my head. “A lesson in sexual intimacy.”

“Come on, Bucknam. You’re saying he didn’t know how to do it?”

“Can you sing Happy Birthday, Detective?” I smiled. “I’ll bet you can.”

He scowled. “On the right occasion. What’s that got to do with this?”

“Dmitri Hvorostovsky can sing happy birthday too. Even though he sings the same notes you do, I think you’d agree it’s a very different song when he sings it.”

I leaned forward on the table and stared into Marco Fidanza’s glare. “Most men know the melody of sex and can stumble through it, pretty much in tune. I teach them how to sing their sexual intimacy like Hvorostovsky sings opera. At least as far as they can go, and as far as I can take them.”

The air crackled between us. I could tell I’d gotten to him, and it was clear he didn’t like being bested on his own turf. A small ragged vein on his temple pulsed, and his lips pressed to a thin line. I sat back in my chair.

“Very clever,” he grumbled. “So you were teaching Lewis to sing sexual opera.”

I nodded. “He was incredibly gifted—a natural—but still dangerously naïve.” I fought a lump in my throat. “We were working on that too.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re not naïve in the least, Mr. Bucknam.” He was good. I folded my arms and replied with silence. “Did you introduce him to customers?”


“Yes, a few. He had no trouble finding his own, though.”

He drew some rectangles in a corner of his notepad. “Did you get a cut of that action?”

“No. He offered, I refused.”

“His car had no loan. Was that your doing?”

“Everyone in LA needs a reliable car, Detective. We agreed it would be a loan.”

“What about him using your, ah, studio?” “What about it?”
“Did he pay you for its use?”

“Detective, you seem fixated on money issues. That may make sense in other investigations, but it doesn’t in this one. We didn’t have any money issues. I would have covered all his costs without a thought, if he’d let me.”

He looked up, searching my face for something. “But he didn’t.”

“He was a free spirit. He didn’t like being fenced in.”

Fidanza nodded. “Were you trying to fence him in?”

“Not deliberately. And he had no trouble telling me when he felt like I was.”

He went back to his doodling. “How did you stay in touch?”

“Phone mostly. Sometimes a text.”


“What did you do together besides your, um, opera lessons?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Not very much.” Then I wanted to cry. The truth was that we hadn’t done anywhere near enough together. We could have done so much more.

“He loved his independence, as I said. We’d eat together once a week, maybe twice. Occasionally, we’d attend a wine tasting or some other event. One weekend, we went to a gay rodeo in Palm Springs. He loved that.”

He glanced at the papers in front of him. “So part of your, ah, mentorship included cosigning his lease and holding a key to his apartment.”

“Yes. He’d arrived in LA with nothing. No credit, almost no cash reserves. Sometimes, he was sleeping in dangerous places. He needed a place of his own. I wanted him to stay safe.”

“Right,” he said, his voice cold and dry. “That worked out well for him, didn’t it?”

“How—” I gasped, blindsided by the deliberate cruelty. “I suppose you say that to the children of every officer killed in the line of duty. You must be a real hit at police funerals.”

“I thought that might get a reaction from you.” He looked up, smug. “I was right.”

“Brilliant. You get a reaction by hitting someone with a sledgehammer. Such sophistication. Such finesse.”

My heart hammered against my ribs as I leaned forward, hating that he’d found where I hurt most. “Maybe I could have done more to protect him. I wish I had. But if you think I didn’t want the best for Stef, you are wrong, Detective. Very, very wrong.”

He shrugged, unrepentant. The door opened and a heavy-set Hispanic man, probably early fifties, with a tired, fleshy face and a soft middle came in, half dragging a chair. He parked it facing the table, sat, and sighed as if his feet had hurt all day and he’d just discovered the solution.

Fidanza cocked his head at him. “This is my partner, Detective Tomás Alvarez. He’s here to make me behave.” He picked up the recorder and turned it off before stuffing it in his pocket.

I smiled tightly at Alvarez, still stinging. “You’ve arrived too late for that, I’m afraid.”

He lifted his shoulders an inch, clearly used to the failure. “I do what I can.” He looked at his partner. “Malena called. Nicki’s over, and the little one is sick. If I want to eat, I’ve got to buy stuff at the store on the way home. I want to eat.”

“You go ahead. Mr. Bucknam and I have one more task,” Fidanza said as he closed the file and stood. He stared down at me, and I could tell he was watching for something. “I need you to identify the body, down at the Coroner’s Office. You can ride with me, if you like.”

Sweat pricked along my neck. I didn’t want to see Stef’s body. Then I surprised myself. Yes, actually I did. I wanted to say good-bye. We both deserved that. What if I got sick again? Then I got sick, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to try to get out of it. That’s probably what Fidanza was hoping for.

There was no way I was going to ride in his car, though. He would just try to nail me again to see how I squirmed. I shook my head. “Give me the address. I’ll meet you there.”

Featured Author of the Month - Lloyd Meeker Shares His Book

Connect with Lloyd at
"Email: lam@lloydmeeker.com
Website: http://lloydmeeker.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lloyd.meeker
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LloydAMeeker"





Dreapmspinner Press - 220 pages
Genre: Mystical romance with strong murder mystery elements
Heat level: some explicit on-page sex, not erotica
Release date: July 23, 2014





Blurb:
Shepherd Bucknam hasn’t had a lover in more than a decade, and doesn’t need one. As a Daka, he coaches men in the sacred art and mystery of sexual ecstasy all the time, and he loves his work. It’s his calling. In fact, he’s perfectly content—except for the terrors of his recurring nightmare, and the ominous blood-red birthmarks on his neck. He’s convinced that together they foretell his early and violent death.
When Shepherd’s young protégé is murdered, LAPD Detective Marco Fidanza gets the case. The two men are worlds apart: Marco has fought hard for everything he’s accomplished, in sharp contrast to the apparent ease of Shepherd’s inherited wealth—but their mutual attraction is too hot for either of them to ignore.
Shepherd swears he’ll help find his protégé’s killer but Marco warns him to stay out of it. When an influential politician is implicated, the police investigation grinds to a halt. Shepherd hires his own investigator. Marco calls it dangerous meddling.
As their volatile relationship deepens, Shepherd discovers his nightmares might not relate to the future, but to the deadly legacy of a past life—a life he may have to revisit before he can fully live and love in this one.






Excerpt:



"Fidanza gave me a mirthless smile. “I know exactly who was in your little hideaway this morning.”
“So why were you there? Why are you here? You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“No, I don’t.”
I felt a power dance begin, and my adrenaline jumped. Power play between men was so sexy. I softened my voice to a dangerous murmur. “Do I need to call my lawyer, Detective? He’s very good, and not at all afraid to take on bullies. He’ll represent Camilla, if need be.”
He must have heard the promise of battle, because he looked up from his notebook. His nose had been broken, and a scar cut a pale ditch through his left eyebrow. It was damn sexy. If he wasn’t going to answer my questions, I’d start a different conversation with him. His mouth opened, but I cut him off.
“Do you enjoy sex, Detective?”
He snorted. “Not with prostitutes.”
I ignored the deliberate insult. “You’d be amazed at how many men don’t enjoy sex, don’t know how. Mostly, men love orgasm, and it doesn’t matter much what they do to get one.”
“Is that so?” Fidanza looked amused.
I got the uneasy feeling he might be playing me, but I pushed on. “In my experience, yes. Real sex is a mystical journey that few men explore, let alone become skilled at—probably because they never learned what sex is, never had anyone actually lead them into the real wonder. That’s what I do. I’m a Daka. I coach men in sexual ecstasy.”




Buy link Digital:
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5243
Buy link Print:
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5244




Offering to Give-away
3 digital copies of The Companion in Kindle, epub or pdf
leave a comment for a chance to win.

#MFRWorg presents our August Featured Author @LloydAMeeker

Let's find out more about Lloyd Meeker

"Lloyd Meeker can't help what he writes – stories arising from the between places, the mystical overlapping between the worlds of matter and spirit, and the eldritch beauty that dwells there. It’s his natural habitat.


He's in love with the adventure and magic of living there, loves plunging into stories full of both, and wants to take you along. Mostly he's in love with love, and believes deeply in the power of love to overcome any challenge. He’s known it in his own life, and seen it in the lives of others.


In addition to his written work, which includes novels, essays, poetry and short stories, he has served since 2008 as a judge in the Queer Foundation’s annual National High School Seniors Essay Contest, which promotes effective writing by, about, and/or for queer youth, and awards scholarships to the winners. Finalists are selected from schools across the United States by members of the National Council of Teachers of English.

Happily ensorcelled by music, subtle energy healing, and the wonders of nature, he lives with his very understanding husband in southern Florida, among friends and family, orchids, and giant hibiscus that take his breath away every morning.

The Companion is his fourth novel."

Why did Lloyd started writing?

"In 2003 I lay in a hospital bed for the first time, recovering from a pulmonary embolism and surgery for stomach cancer. I'd been sober four years. I realized that if I was serious about writing novels I'd better finish one because I was now on bonus time.
Eleven years and four novels later, with another in the works, I write or do writing related work every day, grateful to have this chance to share the stories that are mine to tell. My husband is incredibly supportive, the stories keep coming, and I've had a clean bill of health since 2004. Life is good, and writing books is what this chapter of my life is all about."

Connect with Lloyd

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Win a copy of Companion

Lloyd is giving away 3 digital copies of The Companion in Kindle, epub or pdf formats.

The Companion, by Lloyd A. Meeker
Dreapmspinner Press - 220 pages
Genre: Mystical romance with strong murder mystery elements
Heat level: some explicit on-page sex, not erotica
Release date: July 23, 2014
Buy link :
Digital | Print

Blurb:
Shepherd Bucknam hasn’t had a lover in more than a decade, and doesn’t need one. As a Daka, he coaches men in the sacred art and mystery of sexual ecstasy all the time, and he loves his work. It’s his calling. In fact, he’s perfectly content—except for the terrors of his recurring nightmare, and the ominous blood-red birthmarks on his neck. He’s convinced that together they foretell his early and violent death.
When Shepherd’s young protégé is murdered, LAPD Detective Marco Fidanza gets the case. The two men are worlds apart: Marco has fought hard for everything he’s accomplished, in sharp contrast to the apparent ease of Shepherd’s inherited wealth—but their mutual attraction is too hot for either of them to ignore.
Shepherd swears he’ll help find his protégé’s killer but Marco warns him to stay out of it. When an influential politician is implicated, the police investigation grinds to a halt. Shepherd hires his own investigator. Marco calls it dangerous meddling.
As their volatile relationship deepens, Shepherd discovers his nightmares might not relate to the future, but to the deadly legacy of a past life—a life he may have to revisit before he can fully live and love in this one.