Kia Ora...

It's been an interesting two weeks for me. First I forgot which weekend my parents were coming to visit...which necessitated a very hurried tidy up of the house. Considering I'm in the midst of packing the house up, there was a lot that needed to be tidied away so that people had somewhere to sit and could walk without worrying about tripping on something. The flow affects from that meant my writing schedule went out of whack and what I wanted to achieve didn't quite happen.

And if a visit from the parents weren't enough to worry about, there's also the slow death of twitter and the continued fuckery of facebook to contend with. As an author I rely heavily on social media to promote my books and in recent years my main socials have been twitter and facebook... so, I've resurrected my tumblr accounts and will be posting more to them. You can find all my socials, for all pen names here: https://linktr.ee/naomiaoki_mandygreenwood.

Then I discovered Clipchamp, a video creation app... and like all new creative toys that I find, it's become a fun distraction. It will also prove to be a useful tool as I get the hang of it for promoting books.

Updates

Naomi Aoki

• No new writing under this pen name until next year. I have been working on new promo graphics and slowly creating boxsets of completed series'.

Mandy Greenwood

• Working on Running for Home (Switch Hitters 1) to keep it a few chapters ahead of what's being posted in the newsletter.
• Slowly rewriting the Silverdale Coven Series, it got pushed aside recently but I will rework it into my daily schedule. I already have new covers drafted for the series and now that I have more deposit photo credits I can get them finalised so they are ready to go.
• O Deadly Night Charity Anthology released on Tuesday and has so far hit #1 in two different categories: LGBTQ+ Horror Fiction, and LBGTQ+ Short Stories. Murder and Mistletoe is my contribution to the anthology and is a short story featuring Aidan, Misaki, and Kristof from the Crime Lords series. The anthology should be heading into KU in the next day or two before possibly returning to all wide platforms for another stint.

MJ Green

• Currently working on Gio and Albie's story - Until Death (House of Bolton Prequel). It's word count has almost reached the 30k mark which should be the halfway point. Writing this story is proving to be unlike anything else I've written as the beats are a little different. Gio and Albie are an existing couple, and there is no messy breakup to recover from... it really is nothing more than watching the two men live their lives before getting married. Of course that doesn't mean there isn't plenty of death, mischief, and the seduction of priest before they can reach that point.
• I'm also working on couple of bonus stories which will be posted in my readers group and on tumblr in the lead up to Xmas.

O Deadly Night

Sometimes the happiest season of all is hiding the darkest secrets.

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All the bonus/deleted scenes from the Welcome to Greertown universe, including a few that weren't shared previously.

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Bookfunnel Promos

• Mafia Mayhem: 1-30 November (Sales)
• Mafia Madness: 15 November - 15 December (Sales)
• Enemies to Lovers: 15 November - 15 December (Sales)
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• Wickedly Dangerous: 15 November - 15 December (Sales)
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Sale Alert!!!

Available from the 22nd - 29th November

I will send out another reminder once the sale goes live... but for those who like to get in early, I have grouped all the sale books in one easy to find location for you to bookmark ready for Tuesday! (Yay books2read reading lists!!)

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Running for Home (Switch Hitters 1)

Chapter Three

(TW: Sports Injury, PTSD)

This was his favourite place to be, crouched behind home plate with Jordan standing on the pitcher’s mound. Nothing better than signaling for Jordan to send one of his best pitches—fast and deceptively low, it never failed to bait the batter into taking a swing at hit. On a good day it would be a strike while on a bad day it might find a mitt in the outfield.

Today was going to be a good day. The atmosphere in the stadium…was like nothing they’d experienced so far this season.

Runners were on second and third.

The batter jammed the pitch, sending it flying toward the outfield…enough to get him onto first and maybe get the runner on third home. They were up two runs, and with an innings to go they could afford to lose one.

He rose from his crouched position the moment the ball was struck, confident in his teams ability to get the ball back to him before the runner on second took a risk for home.

The ball flew toward him, time slowing down as it drew closer to him while the runner on second barreled through third base.

But Mike wouldn’t let him get that run, taking up the perfect position tag the bastard out once the ball landed in his mitt.

Time slowed even further for everyone but the runner. Seconds blurring…

And then there was nothing but screaming.

Mike groaned as he noticed the time on his phone, two hours after he’d crawled into bed. It’d been a while since his dreams were this bad, waking Mike from his sleep to a bed drenched in sweat and tears while his heart pounded, and hands shook.

That moment when his life stopped wasn’t one Mike would ever forget. He remembered watching as the runner on second gunned it for home despite his own base callers telling him to return to third. Then it all happened in slow motion…the ball landing in his mitt right before the runner slid into home, deliberately aiming for Mike’s leg—though that bit of information he learned in the disciplinary hearing that occurred weeks later. Remembered watching as his knee twisted awkwardly…the sound of a pained scream echoing through the stadium before realising the sound was coming from him. And even in his pained state, Mike knew this wasn’t an injury he was coming back from…knew then that his baseball career was over.

He drew in a sharp breath and scrubbed at his face, trying to dispel the dark thoughts that lingered. They always lingered. Voices that hadn’t spoken to him then, but they did now. Jordan’s face morphing from the one of panicked concern to anger and disgust, deriding Mike for getting injured.

But Jordan had never said it…would never say it.

And yet it didn’t stop the voices in his head from trying to overwrite the truth.

Kicking off his blankets, Mike stumbled from his bed and headed for the living area of his small apartment. It looked like a fucking shoebox compared to the house he’d once shared with Jordan, but the place was a step up from the half-collapsed building he’d sheltered in only a few months ago. Yet it didn’t matter whether Mike had a comfy bed or a ratty blanket covering him as he slept on a cold dirty floor because when his nightmares struck, sleep would no longer be possible.

At least not without help.

Mike flicked on a light as he stepped into the kitchen and searched for something to drink, scowling when all he could find was a single sachet of hot chocolate. Grocery shopping wasn’t his forte, not even with the modern convenience of ordering it online and having it delivered. He’d always found the whole task tedious which for a professional athlete who valued a healthy lifestyle might have seemed odd to others, but then again, Mike wasn't a professional anything anymore.

With a hot cuppa in his hand, Mike strolled over to the couch and sat down heavily. He grabbed the remote for the tv and turned it on, flicking through the channels until he found something mind numbing enough to cut through the chaos in his mind.

It wasn’t hard to work out why the nightmares had appeared again. Why after so many dreamless nights, Mike was haunted by his memories once more. Attending yesterday’s baseball game. Seeing Jordan standing on the mound and sending his pitches into the mitt of a catcher who wasn’t him…would never be him again. A reminder of everything he’d lost in a split-second decision by a rival player. It had been a mistake to let Hunter talk him into going…to let him believe that two years away from the stadium would be long enough for him to forget the pain and despair that had engulfed him.

But he’d been wrong.

He’d struggled to cope with it all back then. The sudden change in his life…the crippling anxiety that had plagued him if Mike had even dared to get anywhere close to the stadium that had been at the centre of his life. At the time he’d only seen one way to escape it…to escape the pain…and that was to leave Jordan.

Leave his husband, baseball, and the pain they caused him behind.

A shaky sigh slipped from his mouth as he thought of Jordan and the happier times they’d shared before he’d gotten injured. Happier times that didn’t revolve entirely around baseball. Nights out at their favourite restaurants, neither caring when their meal was interrupted by fans seeking autographs or pictures. Cooking in the kitchen, swatting Jordan’s hand away whenever he tried to sneak a taste. The laughter which had always filled their lives on and off the field. And on the field they’d been an unbeatable partnership who took the Switch Hitters to ever championship final from the first year Jordan had joined the team.

Words flowed easily between them…right until they hadn’t.

Communication between them broke down piece by piece after Mike’s injury with his reluctance to speak openly with Jordan about how he was coping. He hadn’t wanted Jordan to worry about him… hadn’t wanted his husband to look at him with a pained expression that only reminded Mike of everything he’d lost… hadn’t wanted Jordan to walk around their house as though Mike was fragile and might break at any moment.

But the truth was…Mike had already broken.

Falling endless toward rock-bottom which he’d hit hard when the new season started, and Mike was forced to spend time alone with his thoughts while Jordan attended practices and games. Time that allowed doubts, dark thoughts, and negative voices he’d never dealt with before to seep in and pollute the last of the happy memories Mike had clung to.

By the time Jordan stepped onto the mound for the third game of the season, Mike had gone.

Mike wished he could go back. Wished he could’ve handled it differently and reached out for help instead of leaving.

But Mike had left.

And didn’t see how there was any going back now.

Days bled into a weeks since he’d attended the baseball game and still the nightmares continued to plague his nights. Mike had begun to forget what it was like to have a good night’s sleep. One that didn’t end up with him sitting on the couch in front of the tv and craving drink, pills, whatever would send him into that state of sweet oblivion where his nightmares couldn’t reach him.

Mike still cursed his inability to turn Hunter down. But where he’d have once argued black and blue that his love for the game had died with end of his career, Mike couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed watching the game even it was from an unfamiliar position high above the stadium. He’d loved being able to witness the beauty of Jordan’s pitching from a different angle…

And he missed the game.

Missed being down there amongst it all, soaking up the crowd-generated atmosphere and feeling thee adrenaline run through his veins once more.

But as much as Mike missed it, the anger, jealousy, and anxiety that wracked his body were more than he could handle. The darkness that had consumed him in the days after his accident once more scratching at his brain and digging its claws in. Mike knew he needed to fight it, but the exhaustion that came with sleepless nights made it hard.

Hunter’s plans didn’t end with getting Mike to watch a game. His best friend was also determined to get Mike and Jordan in the same room, to talk out their lingering issues…and fix their broken marriage. He wasn’t ready to take that step…wasn’t sure if he deserved a second chance after what he’d done.

*******

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