🥳 we did it!

Aug 09, 2021 6:32 pm

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Hey, you!


It's been an extremely busy week over here in my little corner of the wild west. I took my kids to the county fair in my home town. It's an old-fashioned fair with livestock shows, other exhibits, a big carnival, a parade, and even a professional rodeo. The week has also turned into something of a family reunion, with cousins, aunts, and uncles visiting from states away. And it's the "good" side of my family, so I always enjoy seeing everyone.


This week is set up to be just as hectic and just as exciting, because Jaywalking releases Wednesday, August 11! You can pre-order it now to be sure that you're one of the first to read it. Advanced readers have left some glowing reviews on review sites so far. Unfortunately Amazon hasn't permitted most of these reviews to be posted before release day, which is a problem I'm working on, but with dwindling hope that it will be resolved the way I'd like. At this point I've decided it will be what it will be, and I'm not going to stress too much!


Jaywalking is a second edition of my first published book, which was a novella. I learned a lot by writing the first edition of the book, and even more in the following months as I continued to write, figured out how to better connect with readers, and developed a stronger sense of the way I want to tell stories. Revising and republishing Jaywalking brings me back to where I began just one year ago. It's funny how time works; a year can feel like forever or no time at all, and for me the last year is both, depending on which way I tilt my head. 💜


About Jaywalking


At the beginning of the book, it's mid-summer. Jay, a recent high school graduate and soon-to-be college student, goes to a bar in a neighboring city that's hosting a slam poetry performance. There, he literally runs into Emile, a handsome, somewhat-older man that he's instantly drawn to. Things quickly escalate between them and culminate when Emile suggests they meet up in the bar's restroom... neither of them realizing that in a few short months, Jay will find himself as a student in Emile's literature class.


If you enjoy an age gap, kinks with power exchange, and a new twist on old tropes, then I think you'll love this book!


August 11 is my publication anniversary 🥳


I'm celebrating in all of the places, especially here in the mailing list! A few weeks ago I asked how you would like to celebrate, and had a lot of fun reading through the answers. There was a lot of support for a paperback giveaway and smaller, swag items like bookmarks, so I decided to do both!


To enter to win a paperback of your choice from my catalogue, just fill out this survey. Every entrant who indicates they want one will get a bookmark. This giveaway is only open to subscribers. No matter where along my journey you joined me this year, it means so much to me that you're interested in hearing from me week to week. 💜


There will be tons of giveaways from other authors over at Rachel's Party Barn on Facebook, and I'm also running a giveaway of my own on the page for a free e-reader! So, if you're not allergic to Facebook, it might be worth your while to stop by!


Finally, I'm giving away some books and cacti... yes, you read that correctly... over on my Instagram! 🌵


What I'm reading


I've been reading The Endgame by Riley Hart! I have had very little reading time given that I'm editing, preparing for a release, and coordinating publication anniversary shenanigans, but it's been a great little end-of-day reward for me to sneak in a few chapters.


What I'm writing


Burning Season is back from first-round edits. You know what that means... it's nearly time for ARCs! If you are interested in receiving an early e-book copy of the book, and would consider leaving an honest review if you enjoy it, then please fill out this request form.


I also wrote a chapter of Night & Day over on Discord, which is part of my new routine. You got chapter one in last week's newsletter, and chapter two is below... but if you're eager to see more and don't mind reading a rougher draft, I hope you'll join me over there to "see" me write the book in real time.


Have a great week!


xo,


Rachel


Books by Rachel Ember

Long Winter | Signs of Spring | Burning Season

Jaywalking | Sleepwalker


***

NIGHT & DAY

CHAPTER TWO


Jonathan


Jonathan had scheduled four interviews that morning. First had been Angela Scavo, who spoke confidently about infant care, had a lot of experience, and held Isabel with calm authority. The first half of the interview had gone well; Jonathan had been wondering if he should just cancel the other two. But then Isabel had begun whimpering, and Angela hadn't taken a break from speaking to Jonathan, but had begun jiggling the baby.


Jiggling didn't look pleasant to Jonathan, but then again, he wasn't a baby, and he didn't pretend to know the first thing about them.. However, he could tell after a minute or so that Isabel didn't find the jiggling pleasant, either. Her cries got louder, and Angela was totally unfazed, talking and jiggling while Isabel grew increasingly red-faced.


He had no idea how he was supposed to hire a nanny in particular, but he had enough experience with supervisees at work that he'd learned to follow his gut when it came to whether or not to trust people with important responsibilities.


"I don't think it's going to be a good fit," he'd told Angela Scavo, and she looked like she'd never been more shocked in her life.


After Angela had been Barbara "Call-me-Barb" Petrov, and she'd succeeded in quieting Isabel by walking around the room with her, answering Jonathan's questions adequately and taking advantage of pacing with the baby to let her eyes linger on the framed art on the walls in a way that bothered Jonathan more than it should have.


Objectively, Barb was a good choice. She had solid references and had agreed to a background check. Knowing that even if the other two interviews went terribly, he had a viable candidate, was such a relief it almost left him dizzy.


The next appointment wasn't for an hour, which meant that he was alone with a still-fussy Isabel for all of that time. He managed to entertain her by putting her on her back on her padded mat, sitting next to her, and showing her the black and white illustrations printed that she loved. But she loved them even more when he pretended they were picture books, making up long-winded stories about the little animal shapes hidden in the stylized geometric pieces. He'd discovered this tactic some time in the small hours of the morning a week before, and he was terrified of the moment when she'd tire of the only reliable tool in his present, pathetic arsenal.


He picked up the baby when the doorbell rang again, yawning so hard his jaw cracked. God, he was tired. Isabel did have daycare morning to evening while he was at work, but from what he could tell, she was primarily a nocturnal creature. He hadn't had more than a few hours' sleep since Natalie had left.


Interviewee number three was a timid young woman named Molly Zimmerman who perched on the edge of the sofa across from Jonathan and flinched when Isabel cried.


He was so tired. Beyond merely tired—he was exhausted. The full extent hit him all of a sudden, while he blinked at the young woman who he wasn’t going to hire and weighed the urge to politely go through the motions of completing the interview against the satisfaction of getting her out of there so he could lay his head on his folded arms and close his eyes, if only for a minute or two before Isabel inevitably started to fuss. 


He considered calling Barb right after Molly left and seeing what it would take for her to come back and begin working that night. While he was pondering the logistics, he realized that Molly was looking at him with hesitant expectation, the way someone did when they'd asked a question and were waiting for an answer.


The problem was, Jonathan hadn't heard her question. He wanted to rub his aching head in frustration, but he couldn't do that when both his hands were awkwardly clutching Isabel, who was struggling in that violent way she sometimes did, her whole body taut and twisting, leaving him terrified he'd drop her like a slippery little fish.


Jonathan wasn't good at pleasantries in the best of times. He had his strengths, but social cues, and making nice with people he probably would never see again, had never resonated with him the way they seemed to with most people. And his desire to be polite was quickly losing the battle with his exhaustion. 


"Ms. Zimmerman, I don't think it's going to be a good fit."


She nodded forlornly, like she wasn't surprised by this assessment. He almost felt bad, seeing her shoulders slump as he walked her back to the door, and realized that in the few minutes she'd been there, she'd more or less sat down, been ignored, and then been told she wasn't getting the job she was interviewing for. Jonathan winced at his own insensitivity, but then the urge to yawn filled him again, and he forgot to apologize, instead trying the jiggling motion that his first interviewee had seemed to think would work on Isabel earlier, hoping it would do better now.


It did not.


While he was standing there in the open doorway, jiggling ineffectively, he realized he should say goodbye or thank you or anything else that would be socially acceptable to Molly. But he looked up to find that she'd already fled, and someone else was standing in her place.


On Jonathan’s stoop stood a young man in well-worn clothes. He was a few inches shorter than Jonathan's six-foot-one, and wiry, his lean arms sleeved in tattoos and he had a tiny, perceptible hole in his lower lip for a piercing.


Jonathan blinked, wondering how he'd noticed that one small detail of all things. He must be more tired than he thought.


"Can I help you?" he asked.


The young man looked up, like he was surprised by Jonathan's voice. Or really, his presence at all. His gaze had been trained with total focus on Isabel. A little color crawled into his cheeks. "Can I take her?"


Jonathan hadn't expected his innocuous question to be answered with a question, much less an offer to extract Isabel from the place where he had her pinned to his own waist, the way he might have carried a football if that football had come to life and seemed intent on springing out of his grasp.


The fact that the young man was in his doorway and asking to hold the baby told Jonathan that he must be the next interviewee. He wasn't what Jonathan had expected from reviewing his application in the nanny app. He'd imagined someone very buttoned-up, in a soft sweater, like a young Mr. Rogers. The man following him inside right now looked like he should be holding a skateboard, not a baby.


"You're Tyler Andrews?" Jonathan asked, just to be sure. Though he was ready to pass his daughter off to just about anyone for a minute or two, he thought he should at least establish the stranger's identity first.


The young man closed the door and nodded, then held out his hands for Isabel with an expectant look on his face. She let out a sharp bellow that was all the encouragement Jonathan needed to hand her over.


Barb and even Angela had taken Isabel from Jonathan with much more confidence than Jonathan handled her himself, but watching Tyler take her was different. His hands were soft but sure as he lifted her away from Jonathan and against his own shoulder. Jonathan could see the soothing quality of that touch, and the expertise in how Tyler positioned her and automatically took up a slight swaying motion from the waist up, like his body was a tree in a gentle breeze.


Isabel stopped crying. Of course she did. She was clearly being held by a baby-care savant, and not her supremely ineffective father.


Jonathan realized he must be staring when Tyler gave him a small, wry smile. "This is the way my little sister liked to be held, too," he said, in the casual tone of someone who understands how to fill an awkward moment, another skill that Jonathan could add to the list of talents he didn't share with this boy. "It's funny how you remember those things. She's twenty now."


Jonathan found it hard to believe that Tyler could remember anything from twenty years ago. He didn't look much older than twenty himself.


His memory for facts and details was excellent, so even though he had to work through the quagmire of his sleep-deprived brain, Jonathan eventually remembered from Tyler's resume that he was twenty-eight. 


Isabel appeared half-asleep, peeking over Tyler's shoulder, and her little hand that rested near her cheek had uncurled from its usual frustrated fist.


Barb had quieted the baby, too, but not with this instant, effortless ease. Jonathan's tired mind came to a firm decision, and suddenly it was Tyler, not Barb, who he was imagining bribing into an immediate start.


Unfortunately, while he was recalling resume contents, considering what he'd need to finalize in the employment terms he'd been drafting in order to get Tyler a copy that very day, and wondering if Tyler would prefer to be paid in cash, by check, or via a direct deposit, Jonathan was outwardly only standing there, looking at Tyler.


He gave into the urge he'd been fighting all day and scrubbed his hands over his head. Fuck, he was not good with people, but it had been fifteen years since he'd been quite this bad. The lack of sleep seemed to have stripped him of the learned behaviors he'd acquired since he finished college and realized that how he interacted with people was going to have as much or more bearing on his success than how smart he was.


"I'm sorry," he managed. "Would you like to sit down? I'm not quite myself." He gestured toward the living room, and when Tyler smiled politely and carried Isabel into the room, Jonathan followed, still offering what amounted to random words and phrases in explanation. "Just tired. The baby is not an excellent sleeper. At least, not at night. Naps constantly at daycare. Or so I'm told."


He landed heavily on the sofa that faced the one Tyler had settled on with Isabel, and yawned again.


"She's a night owl, huh?" Tyler asked with a rueful smile. "That can be really hard."


Said by someone else, that statement might have sounded trite. But Tyler's tone was imbued with real, sympathetic understanding. He knew, as Jonathan's colleagues at work and handful of childless friends did not, how hard it could be when a baby wouldn't sleep.


Jonathan found himself staring at Tyler again, but this time in baffled, immense gratitude at even a moment's sincere commiseration.


"It is," he said, then cleared his throat. "I didn't realize how hard it could be."


Still smiling his soft, understanding smile, Tyler nodded, making a little adjustment to the baby and patting her back. "She'll figure it out, though. She's what, two, two-and-a-half months old?"


"Yes. She'll be three months old on the twenty-first."


Tyler nodded, and Jonathan found he couldn't look away from his eyes. He hadn't noticed them at first, but now he couldn't figure out how he hadn't been arrested by them from the start. They were hazel, that color that was green and amber and brown in a kaleidoscope.


"I told you my sister is twenty now?" Tyler asked, and Jonathan nodded. "Well, holding your baby, it really feels like it was just yesterday I was holding her like this. But at the time, those hours she was crying felt a thousand years long. It goes fast, and it gets easier." He turned his head, and his smile widened as he looked at the side of Isabel's head, lolling against his shoulder. She was fully asleep, her little pink lips parted and her cheeks flushed with sleep. "Before you know it, she's going to be all grown up, too."


Jonathan was staring again, but this time it wasn't because he was far away in his thoughts, calculating payroll taxes. He was instead present to the extreme, right here in this room and inside his own head, watching this young, incredibly kind stranger smile at his daughter. His heart seemed to beat more deliberately, his lungs seemed to fill with sweeter air.


Sleep deprivation, he assured himself, blinking fast and averting his eyes. It had to be that.


"Tyler," he began, only to be instantly interrupted.


"Please, call me Ty."


Jonathan blinked. "Ty," he began again. "Would it be possible for you to begin work immediately?"




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