Jan Irving's Blog

Hey, I'm visiting Tara Lain today and talking about healing wounds in my books. Find it here: http://taralain.com/2014/04/jan-irving-lonely-cowboy-protective-dominant/

I also thought I'd ask for some advice. The layouts on both my LJ's are all screwed up. I'm not real technical and I just finished fixing my website and my blog, yet I don't like these journals being so sloppy. Has anyone some advice? I've been considering just deleting them both, frankly, but I feel bad about doing that for friends I have on LJ still.

To celebrate Lonely Cowboy being a best seller, I put up a new excerpt on my blog here: http://janirving.blogspot.ca/2014/02/new-excerpt-for-bestseller-lonely-cowboy.html

Thanks to readers. xx

Happy V Day--also happy release day for Lonely Cowboy. I'm shifting over to a new blog now for updates so I'll link you all there with the latest news: http://janirving.blogspot.ca/

Jan xx

Dark and tormented cop Shade will do anything to possess Nick, the caring artist who is a killer’s next target.

Can a dark, tormented cop and a warm, caring hustler fall in love while trying to stop a murderer? Created to be the perfect killer, Shade has done some 'shady' things in his past but when he meets Nick, a sexy and honourable part time painter, Shade is drawn to possess him. And Shade is very good at getting what he wants, using any means necessary...

Link.

I'm so pleased this book is out. I hadn't stopped writing over most of 2013, but I wasn't finishing anything. Then I read The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron (totally recommend that) and I finished a whopping lot of books all at once. Shady was the first. It was a story that wouldn't die. I'd find myself returning to it.

On another note, sorry I'm not on LJ as much. I'll admit, I post on facebook regularly, mainly because uploading pictures is easier for me than coding them here. So you can find me there and friend me if you like under Janice Irving. xx

Hey, I've been so busy, well, writing and creating I'm behind on keeping up here again. Good news is more things being written.

Anyway, today I am on Amber Kell's blog and I wrote a special short story of Dane/Noel for her birthday bash. You can find it here: http://amberkell.wordpress.com/2013/11/18/welcome-janice-irving-to-our-birthay-bash/ And if you comment there, you are entered to win a hard cover copy of Sam's Reviews, my reissued best selling book--which is truly lovely looking.

Also on this blog you'll see the post card with cover and blurb for the upcoming (February) Lonely Cowboy.

Jan xx

Fred James, the battalion chief of Station 57, is a dedicated firefighter and single father of two teen girls. Although he’s been bashfully flirting with her for months, he thinks he’s too old for unfettered Dharma Munroe so the attraction has been smoldering. Until the night she puts in a shift at a topless bar and things finally catch fire between Fred and his woman.

Very happy about this! It was the first book I worked on after a long time out. It's extremely steamy, due for preorders late January.

Sorry guys, my bad. I asked for a slight change to my cover art after the fact. I thought the single figure of my cop Shade was enough and TEB agreed, so here it is. I think it's gritty and sexy.

This is a wee snippet of writing from my current WIP tentatively called "The Slave." Work safe, character interaction moment I'm enjoying. M/M futuristic story.


Tom’s eyes snapped open and he smiled, slightly crooked, too many teeth...Jai stared.

“What?” Tom lifted a brow.

“Nothing... You’re just like the sun.”

“I’m like the sun? Is that an artist thing?”

Jai shook his head. “Never mind.”

Jai was conscious of Tom following him a second time. He got a robe, tossed one to Tom. “It’s easier if we get dressed.”

“For whom?”

Jai quirked a brow at Tom and they headed into the garden. They followed a pebbled path to a glass enclosed structure. Jai picked up a heavy iron key from under a mat and used it to open the door.

“Low tech.”

“I don’t allow technology in my most private space.”

Tom didn’t ask any questions, just followed Jai into his studio.

Canvases were scattered around the space, some with scratches from charcoal still evident like skeletons below the flesh of paint and pastel.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his robe, Jai felt tension racket up his spine as Tom merely paced, studying his work. He paused beside a pastoral, then moved to an abstract with slashes of red and orange impatience. He knelt beside one done in grays, rain, it had been nothing but rain in that water color. “You were hopeless when you did this one.”

Jai cleared his throat. “We all have days when we feel that way.”

“Um. And you’ve been angry. A lot.”

“It’s easier to express myself here.”

“Easier to hide what you truly feel here.”

“I express myself in real life.”

“Really? So you’re with Cedric because...”

“I pick and choose where I’m bold.”

“Where you really live, too. And that’s here.” Tom walked to a nude, a man lying on the stone slabs of rock surrounding the baths, long tangled brown hair, frowning brows. “This me?”

Jai shifted, but why not admit it? “Yeah.”

“Thought so. I look pissed.”

“You often look that way.”

“Want to know what would put a smile on my face?”

His heart rate kicked off. “Not particularly.”

“Liar. You are such a liar, Jai, hiding all this passion in here. What good does it do?”

“Why must it do good?”

“I don’t know...” Tom scrubbed his jaw. “It just seems like it would be better if it were out there. If people could see it, share in the feeling.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re all human. That’s all. That’s what work like this says.”

“We’re all frail, flawed.”

“And occasionally illuminated.” Tom touched another abstract. Burning color, reds, siennas, bold blue. Jai remembered feeling something bursting inside of himself to get out and then it had. He didn’t fully understand the painting. Maybe that wasn’t necessary.

“Your experiences have made you more sensitive.”

Tom shrugged.

Jai felt that cacophony of odd, clashing sensations again. He didn’t like it. He was quickly becoming addicted to it. “I want to know more.”

Tom looked at him, merely looked.

“You think I don’t really want to.”

“Who would? It’s not a pretty story.”

“My father beat me. He said it was so I’d understand how to be in charge, to know how to break someone else. He nearly broke me.”

Tom didn’t make sympathetic noises. Didn’t move to touch Jai. He waited.

“I inherited enough power from my mother’s line to live here, to escape from him so I did. At first I was afraid to paint, to just let myself do it. I used to love to sketch things when I was a child; I was punished for doing it.”

“It’s hard going up against programming even when you know it’s flawed.”

“Yes. I was afraid to touch canvas, to use paint. Wasteful, indulgent, worthless.”

“Worthless. That had to hurt.”

Jai nodded. “That word still lives somewhere under my breastbone.”

Now Tom moved toward him. Jai tensed. Tom fell to his knees and pressed his mouth against Jai’s breastbone, through his robe. Jai hissed, feeling that touch like a torch to his skin. “Tom.” His voice broke on the name. “I’m afraid of you.”

“Because I make you feel.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s hands knotted in the robe. “Let me anyway.”

Jai opened his robe himself, took that step. He wanted Tom for his lover. He could dance around it, giving himself all these good and solid and sensible reasons why he should not do this but... Tom’s lips whispered poems against his skin, brought him to life so he sang inside himself. So he yearned, folding over Tom, letting brawny arms hold him as Tom feasted, taking a nipple into his mouth, owning it as Jai shivered.

Can a dark, tormented cop and a warm and caring hustler fall in love while trying to stop a murderer? Created to be the perfect killer, Shade has done some 'shady' things in his past but when he meets Nick, a sexy and honorable part time painter, Shade is drawn to possess him. And Shade is very good at getting what he wants, using any means necessary...

My hero Shade is very dark. He will do anything once he falls in love to protect his lover, and with such a man, I mean anything, lie, cheat, steal and yes, kill.

Shady will be available for pre-order on December 20 from Total E Bound.

I'm busy writing. I finished Lonely Cowboy and it's off and scheduled to come out in February. I'll have other books out between February and May in my firefighters series and I started a story I call "The Slave." It's the story of a marine who winds up on another world as a slave. He's rescued so the story is very h/C and cuddly, which is how I like to write such stories. I've already passed the 10,000 word mark in less than a week because it's fun to write. Maybe I'll put up a little snippet sometime. xx

Since I'm editing Lonely Cowboy now, I'll share another wee snippet. Hopefully out early next year.

This is work safe:

Tate crashed into Simon’s huge warm body. At first he thought he was going to get another stunner of a kiss but then Simon snarled at him. Take a good look.

So he did.

Simon had a scar from the top of his forehead, furrowing the skin down to his eye and the side of his cheek.
For a second Tate hesitated, absorbing, but then he cupped Simon’s face and brushed his lips against the base of the scar. “You were struck by lightning.”

Simon jerked away, hiding his face again. “What do you mean?”

Tate swallowed, knowing he was on uneven ground. “I’m an artist. We, ah, see things differently. When I saw your scar, I thought it looked like you’d been tested by lightning.” He shrugged, not sure he was making any sense.

But Simon was at least looking at him now. He grunted. “Yeah, that’s one way to describe combat.”

Tate said nothing. What could he say? He had no idea what Simon had lived. He only knew he ached to get closer to him. He put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out again. “So what now?”

“Now I protect you.”

“That easy?”

“Nothing about you is easy.”

Tate had to grin. If Simon only knew just how easy Tate would be if he’d come a little closer. But the ex-SEAL was standing stiffly apart from him. Wounded. The scar was only part of how he was hurting.

“What does your protection involve?” Tate’s voice got husky.

Simon’s gaze shot to his. “I’m ugly. Did you miss that?”

“Not to me.” Tate held Simon’s gaze.

“You really are weird.”

“Hey, artist here.”

“Yeah. And city boy.”

“No one’s perfect.”