Hi, I'm Kris
and welcome to the blog tour for The Queer and the Restless, book three in my
awesome queer soap opera! Enjoy the blog tour!
About The
Queer and the Restless:
Ed Masiello
has been on testosterone for a year, is working his dream job as a reporter,
and is finally passing as a man (so long as you don’t ask his abuela). But the
investigation of a murder case is starting to take over his life. Afraid he’s
becoming obsessed, he goes to the local club to relax, and meets the flighty,
whimsical Alisha.
Alisha is a
free spirit who’s tossed aside ambition for travel and adventure. Her approach
to life is a far cry from Ed’s, and while Ed has always assumed that meeting
his goals would make him happy, Alisha is much more content than him—despite
all the plans she can’t yet fulfill.
As their
relationship heats up, so does the murder case. Alisha thinks Ed needs a break,
but someone’s got to find this killer, and he wants to be there when it all
goes down. Besides, taking off into the great unknown with Alisha is crazy. But
opting for what’s safe is just another way of living in fear, and Ed vowed to
stop living like that a long time ago.
The Queer and the Restless is available from: Riptide Publishing Amazon
It was one of those times when I really wished I had darts. One in the hull of the ship. One in the benevolently shining sun. The rest in that perfect ocean, taunting me with its blue depths.
Caspar, my desk-mate (and by “desk” I mean “table with delusions of grandeur”), snorted. “The fuck does that even mean?”
“No idea. My heart’s just fine where it is.”
“Ha. Funny, Masiello.”
It wasn’t meant to be funny. But oh well. Caspar was forty-five and didn’t give a fuck about anything. I knew this because he found a way to put DGAF in every email he sent me. Potter’s on the warpath. Too bad I DGAF. Alder is lurking, saw him in the coffee room. DGAF myself, but you might try to look enterprising. Which was stupid, because I actually worked. I didn’t have to look like I was working. You’d think he might know that after a year and a half sitting next to me, but no. Mostly because he didn’t give a fuck.
“Ed! How’s the blind cat story coming?”
Speaking of Potter. I rolled my chair out until I had a line of sight to my editor’s office doorway. “You mean, the blind cat that can sense when people are dying? Actually, it’s weirdly interesting. You’d think the cat wouldn’t be so popular, since it’s basically a death omen, but the residents all seem to relish the idea they might be next.”
Potter—who was tall and probably had been good-looking at some point in the past, before the long hours in a desk chair and weekends steeped in beer got the better of him—shook his head. “I want a nice story, Ed. Can you do that for me? No death, no dying, no clever euphemisms for death and dying. Give me twelve inches on the nice blind cat and the little old lady who brings it to visit the seniors. Okay?”
Sure. Take everything interesting out of this story completely.
“Got it.” Arguing wouldn’t get me anywhere. Plus, I could write twelve feel-good inches about the nice blind cat if I had to. I rolled back to my half of the table.
Caspar snickered. “‘Just write a nice story, Ed.’ What a fucking stooge.”
I packed up my notebooks. “I’m gonna go see what the blind cat’s up to.”
“Oh, I bet. Hey, if this gig doesn’t work out for you, maybe you can get a job ferrying handicapped pets around making old people happy.”
“No one uses ‘handicapped’ anymore,” I muttered, aggressively zipping my bag shut.
“I just did.” He laughed, this kind of guffaw he does when he’s bored and poking people for fun.
“That’s a great idea, Caspar. I’ll definitely take it into consideration.”
He was still laughing when I slipped out the back of the conference room, which had a fire door that wasn’t wired into the security system. I’d go see the blind cat. Maybe it would make me feel better about having landed the reporter job I’d always wanted only to discover that “general assignment” mostly meant “a bunch of crap that reporters who’ve been here longer don’t want to waste their time on.”
This was not the destination of my heart.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
I sat in my chair on the day after the Fourth of July holiday, drinking coffee and staring at the wall. Since I didn’t have the energy to actually start writing, I switched the calendar over my desk to July: a picture of a massive cruise ship on a spectacularly blue sea with the words Find the destination of your heart in script below it. It was one of those times when I really wished I had darts. One in the hull of the ship. One in the benevolently shining sun. The rest in that perfect ocean, taunting me with its blue depths.
Caspar, my desk-mate (and by “desk” I mean “table with delusions of grandeur”), snorted. “The fuck does that even mean?”
“No idea. My heart’s just fine where it is.”
“Ha. Funny, Masiello.”
It wasn’t meant to be funny. But oh well. Caspar was forty-five and didn’t give a fuck about anything. I knew this because he found a way to put DGAF in every email he sent me. Potter’s on the warpath. Too bad I DGAF. Alder is lurking, saw him in the coffee room. DGAF myself, but you might try to look enterprising. Which was stupid, because I actually worked. I didn’t have to look like I was working. You’d think he might know that after a year and a half sitting next to me, but no. Mostly because he didn’t give a fuck.
“Ed! How’s the blind cat story coming?”
Speaking of Potter. I rolled my chair out until I had a line of sight to my editor’s office doorway. “You mean, the blind cat that can sense when people are dying? Actually, it’s weirdly interesting. You’d think the cat wouldn’t be so popular, since it’s basically a death omen, but the residents all seem to relish the idea they might be next.”
Potter—who was tall and probably had been good-looking at some point in the past, before the long hours in a desk chair and weekends steeped in beer got the better of him—shook his head. “I want a nice story, Ed. Can you do that for me? No death, no dying, no clever euphemisms for death and dying. Give me twelve inches on the nice blind cat and the little old lady who brings it to visit the seniors. Okay?”
Sure. Take everything interesting out of this story completely.
“Got it.” Arguing wouldn’t get me anywhere. Plus, I could write twelve feel-good inches about the nice blind cat if I had to. I rolled back to my half of the table.
Caspar snickered. “‘Just write a nice story, Ed.’ What a fucking stooge.”
I packed up my notebooks. “I’m gonna go see what the blind cat’s up to.”
“Oh, I bet. Hey, if this gig doesn’t work out for you, maybe you can get a job ferrying handicapped pets around making old people happy.”
“No one uses ‘handicapped’ anymore,” I muttered, aggressively zipping my bag shut.
“I just did.” He laughed, this kind of guffaw he does when he’s bored and poking people for fun.
“That’s a great idea, Caspar. I’ll definitely take it into consideration.”
He was still laughing when I slipped out the back of the conference room, which had a fire door that wasn’t wired into the security system. I’d go see the blind cat. Maybe it would make me feel better about having landed the reporter job I’d always wanted only to discover that “general assignment” mostly meant “a bunch of crap that reporters who’ve been here longer don’t want to waste their time on.”
This was not the destination of my heart.
About Kris Ripper:
Kris Ripper
lives in the great state of California and hails from the San Francisco Bay
Area. Kris shares a converted garage with a toddler, can do two pull-ups in a
row, and can write backwards. (No, really.) Kris is genderqueer and prefers the
z-based pronouns because they’re freaking sweet. Ze has been writing fiction
since ze learned how to write, and boring zir stuffed animals with stories long
before that.
Connect with Kris:
- Webiste: krisripper.com
- Facebook: www.facebook.com/kris.ripper
- Twitter: twitter.com/SmutTasticKris
Giveaway:
To celebrate
the release of The Queer and the Restless, one lucky winner will receive
an ebook from Kris’s backlist! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter
the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on November 5, 2016.
Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the tour, and don’t forget
to leave your contact info!
Congrats on the release & thanks for the excerpt!
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