annathepiper | Jun. 26th, 2015

Jun. 26th, 2015

I gotta admit, I was dubious about the Supreme Court taking on the question of same-sex marriage. But as the news exploding around the Internet today has proclaimed, same-sex marriage is now the law of the land. All fifty states.

A Good Day

The BBC’s article I link to mentions cranky anti-gay-marriage advocates who assert that this ruling, quote, “ignores the voices of thousands of Americans”, unquote. To those folks I say: y’know what? If you don’t like same-sex marriage, don’t have one. But realize this: just because your particular flavor of religion says same-sex marriage is icky–or maybe it’s not even a question of religion for you? Maybe you just think same-sex marriage is icky in general–that doesn’t mean you get to dictate what other people do with their marriages. The Supreme Court now says so.

And just because they’ve issued a ruling that you don’t agree with doesn’t mean it’s “tyranny”, either. Nobody’s going to come and make you get married to a queer person. Nobody’s going to come and wreck your marriage now that people of the same gender can legally get married from coast to coast. (Though to be blunt, if your marriage is so shaky that it’s threatened by the prospect of complete strangers of the same gender getting married, you need to go get marital counseling. Seriously.) And nobody’s going to come and tell you you have to raise your children to believe that same-sex marriage is okay (although news flash: your kids are going to have brains and opinions of their own, and some of them are also going to be queer, and you’re going to need to learn how to cope if they wind up disagreeing with you too).

Look, I get it. I come out of a Southern Baptist background myself. In my adolescence I was twitchy about queer people. But y’know what happened once I got to college, and then moved out to the West Coast? I met some actual queer people. I saw that at the end of the day, they’re people just like anybody else, who want to live their lives in peace, go about their daily business, do their jobs, feed their pets, and in general just be people. That went a long way towards making me think that maybe I was wrong to be twitchy, and that’s even before I realized I am in fact bisexual.

Before I learned that love can have many faces and colors and shapes and sizes, and that it’s not fair or just to say that only one kind of love is ever true or proper.

Today, I feel like that for once, maybe, just maybe, people who love like me and my wife have had our right to exist validated. That it is, in fact, okay for us to love one another.

This is What Love Looks Like

Love is not a zero-sum game. Marriage is not a zero-sum game. There’s plenty of each to go around for all.

Today, #LoveWins.

Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

Crossposts: http://annathepiper.livejournal.com/1305983.html

As I’ve posted earlier today, it’s a VERY good day thanks to the Supreme Court’s decision about same-sex marriage. However, let it not be said that opposite-sex relationships don’t get celebrated in these parts either! Because today I bring you another contemporary romance from fellow Carina author Elizabeth Harmon, who wants you to know about her new release in her Red Hot Russians series. And her hero–Vlad the Bad! Who has a goal that may surprise you, given that he’s a stripper, and it’s certainly surprising people in the story! I gotta say, though: way to go Vlad!

Turning It On

Looks can be deceiving, especially when you’re a contestant on TV’s sexiest reality show.

In Turning It On, (Red Hot Russians #2), my new Carina Press release, due out June 29, shy book editor Hannah Levinson tries to keep her fame-hungry fiancé from the clutches of a scheming dental hygienist, with the help of an unlikely ally, sexy Russian male stripper, Vlad the Bad.

When it’s impossible to tell what’s real and what’s an illusion, can Hannah trust that there’s more to Vlad than meets the eye?

Read on, as Vlad reveals himself to Boosting The Signal….

***

Ei, pretty lady. That’s right…you. Don’t be shy. I see how you look at me. That’s okay, I’m used to it. If I minded, wouldn’t be standing here without a shirt, wearing skin-tight jeans made to tear right off my body. I wouldn’t spend hours in gym, or on beach, so I could look this way. I’m not boasting, it’s just fact. When you make your living as I do, looking good is part of the job.

My name is Vladimir Shustov, but here in Miami, most people know me as Vlad the Bad. Maybe you’ve seen me dance at The Male Room. Nyet? Well, The Male Room is a strip club for women, if you haven’t guessed. I’m one of the top acts. Stella, my boss, says that’s because I know how to make every lady think I dance only for her.

Some women who come in may not have a man pay attention to them in real life, so when they are here, I like to make them feel good. They pay me very well, and for a guy who grew up with nothing, and came to this country with nothing, that is important. But is not the only reason I do it. It’s something I can give to another person, even for just a little while. May not mean much, but right now, is all I have.

Back in Russia, I was once an ice dancer. My partner and I even won some medals and we might have had a chance to compete at Winter Games, until we took a bad fall. She broke her hip and decided she didn’t want to skate any more. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, only that I needed to make a lot of money. Stripping was a way to do that.

But when you’re a stripper, people decide who you are without ever bothering to know you. People think I’m stupid, and that all I care about is getting laid. Or getting paid. And yes, most people assume I do one to get the other. I don’t. I won’t lie and say I have no regrets, but it is not who I am, nor is it all I want to be.

What I really want…is to be a writer.

I can tell you’re surprised. Most people are. And it’s true…because I trained as figure skater, my education was miss or hit, as Americans often say. Science I liked, but at math, I was no good. History? What about it? Living in Russia in 1990s and 2000s was like living in history as one nation died and a new one took over. Everyone for themselves…that was what my mother always said. With so many questions about future, who cared about past?

But reading I always loved, and did whenever I had a chance. My favorite stories were those set in worlds even darker and scarier than mine. Compared to robots, demons and flesh-eating aliens, what does it matter if your mother and her boyfriend are in deep with Russkaya Mafiya? Whenever I wasn’t skating, I was often at library, escaping from home, escaping from everything. Before long, I wasn’t content only to read, I began to write.

So far I’ve written one novel and started a second one, called The Flesh Zone. It’s coming of age story about hard working immigrant who comes to United States and is paid fortune to take off his clothes. Then monsters attack his city. I try to do what they say…write what you know. Except for the monsters.

Most people would say two books is good, especially since I’m only twenty-five. Why rush, they say.

Because I know I can only dance for so long, and after, my future doesn’t look so bright. You see, the longer you stay in this life…the life that is lived mostly in the dark…the harder it is to get out. Just ask my mother. She never got out at all.

More than anything, I don’t want to end up that way. Maybe what I really want isn’t simply to be a writer…it is to be someone good and honorable. I haven’t known many people like that, but there have been a few. Not in this life, but before, when I skated. My Uncle Ivan, for one.

What would mean the most is to live a life of which I’m not ashamed…and to be loved by a woman who isn’t ashamed of me. I know, sounds crazy, to think that way. But to me, dreams are like stories. They cost nothing and anybody can have one.

Even a guy called Vlad the Bad.

Follow the Author On: Official Site | Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Goodreads

Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

Crossposts: http://annathepiper.livejournal.com/1306206.html

Today’s second Boosting the Signal feature is for fellow NIWA member April Bullard! April’s bringing me a first–I’ve done anthologies on Boosting the Signal before, but this is the first time I’ve done one targeted for young readers! And this is also the first time I’ve had a work submitted to Boosting the Signal that includes illustrations, as well! April’s stories are intended for readers age 7 and up, and her Goody Hepzibah, presented as the originator of these stories, has a very simple goal with them: teaching. Give Goody Hepzibah a listen, won’t you? AND, April adds to me that there are a couple hidden codes to find and decipher in the book, plus lots of extras to discover in the illustrations! Since she was kind enough to send me some of the illustrations, I’m including those in this post.

Goody Hepzibah’s Harvest Tales

My name is Goody Hepzibah and I have to confess. I’ve always loved a good story, especially if someone is reciting the story and better yet, if we are around a campfire or fireplace in the dark, and even better if the story rhymes! I decided to create a collection of my own poems and tales, and here is how I do it.

First take the familiar nursery rhyme or tale and set it in colonial or Revolutionary America or the best historic era for the poem. I use my own family history and old town records to flesh out the characters and situations. Let the characters do exactly what the old rhyme says. Filter those actions through Goody Hepzibah’s Rules to Live By. When the rules are broken severe consequences come crashing down without reprieve or excuses. It surprises me how many little ditties become real horror stories!

Just to be clear, here are Goody Hepzibah’s Rules to Live By:

Two simple rules are all I need
To deal with any race or creed:
I will not lie and I will not steal.
Trustworthy honor this will reveal.
When others do not abide by these rules
I leave them alone and ignore them as fools.

The next little word I chose to live by
Is the word “safe” and each letter tells why.
S is for Sound: home, body and mind.
A for Access, things easy to find.
F for all Flames, severely controlled.
E means exclusive, for those my love hold.

I may look like a harmless, old lady, but these are not your typical, sweet grandmother’s nursery rhymes and fairy tales. You have been warned.