Have you ever had a dream so vivid you wonder how the hell it was possible? The mind is an incredible thing, we know that, but I admit there's something I find absolutely fascinating about how we dream. See, I'd been fretting about Henry's character. He's one of my protagonists, the love of Johnnie's life. Yet I've been feeling disconnected from him. He hasn't been talking to me as much as the other fellas. Granted, when those other fellas are Johnnie and Chance, it's understandable. Anyone would be lucky to get a word in edgewise. I needed Henry to step up and stop being such a wall flower because if he wasn't careful, Johnnie's ostentatious personality was going to wipe him clear off the map.

This fretting was obviously floating around in the back of my mind when I dozed off last night, and the whole thing filtered into my dreams, because I dreamed I was in the 1930s. It was weird. It was one of those things where you kind of know you don't belong there yet you're still a part of it, a sort of semi-awareness. It's not the first time I've dreamed of a different time. (Welcome to the head of a historical writer). Anyway, the thing is, it was the 1930s. Not surprising considering how much of my day I spent trying to immerse myself in that time. What I found surprising was the incredible vividness of the dream. I swear, it was as if I had closed my eyes and woken up in that time.

I remember a restaurant, and the incredible detail of it just blew me away. I don't know what restaurant it was, whether it may have been something I had seen at some point somewhere or if my head had just made it up and turned the colors up full blast, but the details took my breath away. From the clothing the people were wearing to the gorgeous ceiling and the tiled floor. It breaks my heart that I can't remember much of it now, but I remember at the time just standing there in awe.

Just where had my head conjured up this place from? Believe me, I might know my era, but I'm nowhere near as good as that, where I can just piece something together off the top of my head. There was also a hotel lobby and busy sidewalks at night, all illuminated by signs. Mostly I remember indoors. I remember a good deal of it was sort of in a shopping arcade, which is where this restaurant was. I remember green marble tiles in a diamond pattern on the floor with white marble tiles. Lots of gold inside the restaurant, intricate designs.

Now the best part was, there was a man in a dark blue, three-piece suit walking beside me. He had his hands in his pockets and a gray felt hat on his head with a black ribbon around it. He was tall, slender, very unassuming, soft spoken, and handsome, though I couldn't see his face clearly. He would talk with his head lowered. I couldn't see what color his hair was. Then I remember he took me back somewhere. There was a gift shop, but it was closed. I remember sun coming in through a window on my left and cloth tarps covered a good deal of the furniture. Even though I can't remember what he was talking about, I remember there was an odd sense of peace mixed with sadness. Either it was him giving off this sadness or it was whatever he was talking about.

When I turned, I saw a table filled with pretty souvenirs. They were British. I knew then the man was Henry. Henry's English, you see. He's tall, slender, unassuming, soft spoken, and handsome. For the life of me, I can't remember what Henry was talking to me about. I wish I could say I woke up and knew everything there was to know about him, but I didn't. I did wake up feeling a little more connected to him. It might sound strange, and a little silly, but I also woke up feeling somewhat sad. Because for a moment, he had been there, real and in the flesh, living and breathing like any other person we talk to on a daily basis. Except he was a man of his time, and in the here and now, he would have passed on many a year ago. Henry was gone.

What does this mean for the story? Well, it's made things a little more complicated, so hold onto your hats. See, now that it feels as if I've met Henry in person, I can't get into his head. I've mulled over the POV of Johnnie's book endlessly. At first it was going to be Johnnie's POV because the first book was written from Chance's POV and I thought I should continue that. Then it changed to third so I could get into other characters' heads. Now, it only feels right doing it from Johnnie's point of view, to see and feel things through him, and most importantly, to see Henry through Johnnie's eyes, the way I saw him through my own. See, there's a reason they say we writers are screwy. So I feel as if I can't let Henry down. I have to give a life and a love worthy of the man who had walked beside me in that shopping arcade. Henry, I apologize in advance for what Johnnie will put you through, but I promise you, you'll get your happily ever after.

x Charlie

I've been making the most out of the fellas and their momentary chattiness. Of course this would happen as I'm trying to get Julius's synopsis done. I swear, they're like a bunch of kids. When I want them to talk, they're all quiet and serene, then the moment one of them starts chatting, they all want to talk at once and be the center of attention. I have Johnnie on somewhat of a schedule and am trying to do less of the hopping around stories, and more of the working on one thing at a time. It worked for Julius's book, and so far *fingers crossed*, it seems to be working for Johnnie.

So I decided to share a scene. Here Johnnie has been behaving like his usual charming self while Chance is getting real tired of his bull and calls him out on it. It's first person POV, Johnnie's obviously. For those who don't know Johnnie, he was in The Auspicious Troubles of Chance as one of the brats, had just turned 19, was a pain in Chance's backside, foulmouthed, loud, and could drive anyone insane. He was also very troubled and reminded Chance too much of himself at that age. Now Johnnie is all grown up, 27 years old, devastatingly handsome, but just as troubled, foulmouthed, and can still drive anyone insane. But especially Chance. I think this scene sums up the dynamics between grown up Johnnie, Chance and Jacky pretty well.

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Hello all! First, I'd like to let you know Kayelle Allen is over at the Purple Rose Tea House with a great post on how to write a hot shower scene! Drop by and check it out.

Second of all, there's still a chance for you to win a $25 Dreamspinner gift certificate. Just check out my guest post about cover art over at Mickie B. Ashling's blog. Contest is running until the end of the month.

Also, the reason I've sort of dropped off the social media planet this month is because I've been concentrating on Johnnie's book to get it done in time. It's reached 60k, officially making it a full-length novel and longer than Chance's book. I have two chapters left and few details to fix up before it goes off to the beta. It's been a tough one this one, as the story isn't just about Johnnie and Henry, but the new generation of "brats" that live at Hawthorne Manor.

In Chance's book, it was more about him and how get gets his life together. In Johnnie's book, you get Johnnie's story, how he's trying to get his life together, but you also get to see Chance and Jacky eight years into their relationship. You see how they run things, their dynamics with the rest of the boys. You get a little from Alexander and Bobby, but mostly you get to know the rest of the family through Johnnie. He tells you about the seven youngsters who reside there, all with sad stories to tell. I wrote three of their 'stories' in one day, and I admit all three made me cry a little. Although it's the 1930s, it still deals with the heartbreaking issue of gay youths who have been mistreated and discarded for their homosexuality. I hope the boys will touch your heart the way they've touched mine.

I'll make sure to keep you all posted regarding Johnnie's book, which has the tentative title: The Dangers of Loving Mr. Wolfe. Hopefully you all will forgive my absence while I wrap up these mischievous fellas.

Hello all! Today I thought I'd share a little excerpt from Johnnie's book, which in keeping with the series, has been titled The Impetuous Afflictions of Jonathan Wolfe. This scene is from the second chapter where Henry is driving Johnnie to Aylesbury Market Square, and Johnnie catches Henry with another romance novel. Enjoy!

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Henry was rather quiet and I sneaked a glance over at him, my gaze going to something jutting out against his suit jacket. Lifting the hem up, I pulled out a medium sized book that had been tucked into his waistband. “What do we have here?”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Jonathan, please.”

“Ooh, using Jonathan, are we? This must be exceptionally good." I looked down at the scuffed brown cover and read the title. “Devil’s Cub.” Where did Mrs. Whitmore get these things? “What’s this one about?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I would never laugh at you. I might laugh at the book, but never at you.”

“Very well. It’s about a handsome Marquis and the saucy young woman who takes the place of her younger sister whom he planned to carry off with him to France.”

I held back a smile. “Is he a rake?”

“Of the worst sort.”

“Seducer?”

“Of course.”

“In possession of a terrible temper?”

“Naturally.”

“Drinks too much?”

Henry cast me a cheeky smile. “Don’t they always?”

“I like the fellow already.”

“I had a feeling you would,” he said with a chuckle.

“And does the lady make off with his heart?”

“What do you think?”

“I think, I might find the raciest part and read it out loud.” I started searching through the book, aware of Henry’s face having gone fiery red.

“Please don’t.”

Snapping the book shut, I took pity on him. “Why do you like reading these things?”

He shrugged and I could tell he felt embarrassed. I decided to cut him some slack.

“I suppose when you have to deal with the sort of things we do every day, it must be nice to have something you can lose yourself in, forget how terrible the world can be. Who wouldn’t want to pack it all in for adventure and romance, ay?” I tucked the book between his lower back and the seat. The rest of the ride was silent and I kept sneaking glances at Henry who was once again uncharacteristically quiet. When he pulled into the Market Square and parked in the area sectioned off for the few folks who owned cars, he turned off the engine, and simply sat there.

“Are you all right?” Had I said something wrong? I had tried my best not to stick my foot in it like I usually do. Maybe I hadn’t done as good a job of it as I thought.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be so infuriating at times that I’m all but forced to sit on my hands to keep from strangling you, and then out of nowhere, there are moments when you are so profoundly accurate and perceptive of what I need to hear or how I feel that you leave me entirely speechless.” His expression was one of utter confusion. That made two of us.

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Hello all! I know today is Monday Media, but I had to postpone it to squee all over the place. The Impetuous Afflictions of Jonathan Wolfe has been contracted by Dreamspinner Press!! Woooot! So dearest, frustrating, rip-your-heart out Johnnie is the first of my fellas to tell his story in a full length novel, and his book will also be my first print book! I am so excited! Everybody Can Can!

Hello all! In celebration of my new contract, I thought I would share a special sneak peek from Johnnie's book. Here's an excerpt form the book where we have the fellas enjoying a nice afternoon with the Brats. This is a typical day at Hawthorne Manor, one of the quieter days, and of course a little lurve from Johnnie and Henry. Also, for those of you interested, I have an album on my Pinterest where you'll find all sorts of inspirational images for The Auspicious Troubles of Love series.

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“You ate my shortcake!” Oliver squeaked, his eyes huge. I couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, this was going to be good.

“And it was sooo delicious,” Chance replied, laughing and making a run for it with Oliver bolting after him. Running past the sofa, Chance swiped up a cushion, shielding himself. “You’ll never take me alive, copper!”

“Get him!” Edmund declared, and the Brats descended on Chance. The assault was fierce, cushions from every angle.

“Aren’t you going to help him?” Henry asked me, though I noticed he said it with a shaky smile. I was rather certain he already knew my answer.

“You kidding? Watching them take him down is the best entertainment I’ve had all week.” I finished my cake and tea, enjoying the show. Though I should have known better than to think Chance wouldn’t open his big gob and ruin my fun.

“All right, I’ll talk! It was him! He did it. He said you flat-foots don’t know from nothing ‘cause you got hay for brains.”

Shit. He was pointing at me. “You lousy rat!” I jumped from my chair and made a break for it, only to have them latch onto me like rabid squirrels. I had one wrapped around each leg, arm, and Elliot had his little arms fastened around my waist holding on tight, as if he could get me to stop through will alone. I could hear Hattie and Marion giggling. Clearly, I was on my own.

Jacky put a pastry in his mouth and made like it was a cigar, his Edward G. Robinson impression faultless. “Take’ em down, boys. Show’ em what happens when you mess with the law.”

I was brought crashing down to the carpet and assaulted with cushions, one of the Brats giving me a whack on the backside that had me letting out a surprised yelp. I glared up at Gideon and the truly wicked grin on his face. He was enjoying himself far too much.

“All right, break it up.” A familiar lulling voice took on a sharp American accent and I gazed up at Henry, holding back my smile. “What’s all this now?”

“It’s the chief!” Edmund gasped, bringing all the Brats to scramble off and stand at attention. It was pretty impressive.

Henry came to stand over me, his hands on his hips. “Well, well, well. You think you can pull one over on us? Well, you’re all wet, Johnnie.”

The Brats dragged me over to the armchair. I pretended to struggle, throwing myself back into the chair as they held my arms down against the armrest. Henry marched up to me and put his finger in my face. “You got one more chance to come clean, savvy? Or it’s the big sleep for you.”

“Say, that’s pretty good,” I whispered, rather impressed with his hoodlum talk.

“Thanks. Chance has been teaching me.” He cleared his throat and pulled away, frowning deeply. “Well? What’s it gonna be?”

“Looks like you’re tripping for biscuits, copper. You ain’t getting nothin’ outta me.” I lifted my chin defiantly.

“Tough guy, ay? We’ll see how tough you are.” Henry nodded and Elliot scrambled over the armchair like a little monkey and started tickling me. I wasn’t really ticklish. Henry leaned over and whispered at Elliot. “His ribs.”

Except there.

“You fink!” That I meant. Elliot, Edmund, and Oliver started a full on tickle assault. It was shameful how quickly I surrendered under the pressure. “Wait! All right, I give. What’s it gonna cost?”

Henry turned to Gideon who narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. When his lips curled into an evil grin, I braced myself. Sure, ask the one fella who loved to torture me the most.

“A kiss,” Gideon replied with a self-satisfied smile.

My heart leapt in my throat. “What?”

“Yes,” Edmund agreed excitedly. “You have to kiss the chief!”

Henry’s mouth dropped open and his face flushed. “Honestly, lads, it’s only pretend.”

“Kiss!” The Brats chanted as they pulled me to my feet and pushed me toward poor Henry who didn’t seem to know what to do with himself.

“Yeah all right,” I grumbled, “stop shovin’.”

“Lads, really, it’s not necessary.” Henry’s polite excuses went unheeded and Chance, of course, was no help at all as he chanted along with the Brats.

“Do it!”

I swallowed hard, wondering why the hell my heart was beating so fast. It was just a little kiss, jeez Louise. Deciding I was going to be a man about this, I leaned forward, my gaze going to his lips. It was just a kiss in the name of frivolity, nothing more.

“We might make the ladies uncomfortable,” Henry said bashfully, his cheeks burning. I turned to Hattie and Marion who were also blushing.

Jacky smiled at them. “You ladies may be excused if you like.”

To my surprise, they stayed where they were and Marion waved a hand dismissively. “We don’t mind, sir.” The two looked a little starry-eyed and I could only put it down to Mrs. Whitmore and her bloody romance novels. Did the woman run some secret society I wasn’t aware of, sneaking racy books to dreamy doctors and parlor maids? Usually any staff members uncomfortable with displays of affection were free to leave the room or turn away. For some reason, Hattie and Marion were fine just where they were.

I turned back to Henry when one of the Brats bumped into me from behind. My lips opened in protest at the very moment they touched Henry’s. His breath hitched, his lips parted in a gasp, and before I knew it, my tongue was touching his. Good God...

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Well, I hope you enjoyed that excerpt. More from Johnnie, Henry, and the Brats coming soon!