DSPP author T.J. Klune has a new sci fi book out:
In a world ravaged by fire and descending into madness, Cavalo has been given an ultimatum by the dark man known as Patrick: return Lucas to him and the cannibalistic Dead Rabbits, or the town of Cottonwood and its inhabitants will be destroyed.
But Lucas has a secret embedded into his skin that promises to forever alter the shape of things to come—a secret that Cavalo must decide if it’s worth dying over, even as he wrestles with his own growing attraction to the muted psychopath.
Cavalo has twenty-one days to prepare for war. Twenty-one days to hold what is left of his shredded sanity together. Twenty-one days to convince the people of Cottonwood to rise up and fight back. Twenty-one days to unravel the meaning behind the marks that cover Lucas.
A meaning that leads to a single word and a place of unimaginable power: Dworshak.
Book Two in the Immemorial Year Series
THERE WERE nineteen days left when Cavalo stood on the outskirts of Cottonwood, snow blowing harshly against his face. The sky buried the morning in gray clouds, and Cavalo wondered if he would survive the winter to feel sun on his face again. He didn’t think he would. Not now.
Bad guys? Bad Dog asked him, eyeing the southern gate into Cottonwood warily. BigHank? AlmaLady?
“No,” Cavalo said. “Not bad guys.”
WarMan bad guy?
Cavalo closed his eyes. He wasn’t surprised the dog had picked up on his thoughts. If he could do that at all, that is. “Maybe. I don’t know what Warren was.”
He was not your man, the bees whispered, sounding like Patrick. Did you know that?
If WarMan was a bad guy, then maybe BigHank and AlmaLady bad guys, Bad Dog said. Maybe all of them bad guys.
“That would make things easier.”
“We could leave.”
Where? Back home?
“No. We would find a new home. Far away from here.”
How far away?
Tin Man? Smells Different?
Cavalo sighed. “I don’t know.”
Bad Dog huffed. Can’t leave them.
No, he panted. Can’t. They fit.
Us. Me. You and I. Tin Man is a rust bucket, but he’s ours. Smells Different makes blood come out of people, but as long as he doesn’t do it to me or MasterBossLord, he’s ours too.
Can’t leave ’em. Can’t leave here.
Yes. If BigHank and AlmaLady good guys, then they need Bad Dog to protect them from monsters. Bad Dog barked to show his ferocity.
“We don’t know who the monsters are anymore,” Cavalo said. He looked back at the southern gate. He could see faint figures moving along the walkway near the top of the wall. The Patrol hadn’t yet seen him. They’d know soon enough.
When TJ Klune was eight, he picked up a pen and paper and began to write his first story (which turned out to be his own sweeping epic version of the video game Super Metroid—he didn’t think the game ended very well and wanted to offer his own take on it. He never heard back from the video game company, much to his chagrin). Now, over two decades later, the cast of characters in his head have only gotten louder, wondering why he has to go to work as a claims examiner for an insurance company during the day when he could just stay home and write.
Since being published, TJ has won the Lambda Literary Award for Best Gay Romance, fought off three lions that threatened to attack him and his village, and was chosen by Amazon as having written one of the best GLBT books of 2011.
And one of those things isn’t true.
(It’s the lion thing. The lion thing isn’t true.)