QSFer Tinnean has a new MM sci fi book out:
Lyncoln Ryland always saw himself as an ordinary man with an ordinary job, working maintenance in an ordinary mall. The only thing about him that isn’t ordinary are his feelings for the man who’s renovating the mall, but any kind of relationship with such a sophisticated man is highly unlikely.
Adam James is the wealthy man who owns the mall. He’s secretly been yearning for Lyncoln, a man he doesn’t see as ordinary in the least. But Adam’s family has plans for him, and they don’t include a relationship with a blue-collar worker.
All this is about to change when the sirens go off, signaling the possible end of the world. When the two men realize this isn’t a drill, they take shelter in the mall that isn’t quite as ordinary as everyone believes. What will the outcome be when two such disparate men must survive the apocalypse together?
Lync skirted the fountain, which obviously wasn’t working, and approached the west side of the mall. The pole he’d need to lower the metal wall was in a narrow cabinet in a corner where the inner doors met the wall of Nick’s, the sporting goods store. He took out his keyring and found the key to the cabinet. He unlocked it, but curiosity got the better of him, and instead of reaching for the pole, he twisted the latch of one of the inner doors and stepped out into the night. All the lights were out: street lights, the traffic lights leading into the mall. Even the houses across the boulevard were in total darkness.
He tipped his head back, anticipating the vision of a star-spangled sky. Even in a city as small as Laurel Hill, there were enough lights to obscure the night sky, but now—a heavy overlay of clouds concealed it. He drew in a breath, but instead of the cool night breeze he expected to inhale, his nostrils were filled with the acrid scent of things burning, and he began coughing. He walked farther into the parking lot, and a glance to the north revealed red-tinged clouds. Could some of the homes in the subdivision just outside of town have been set on fire by a lightning strike?
The odd thing was the parking lot and the sidewalks were dry. Yeah, very odd. If not a lightning strike, what could have caused the power outage?
He was distracted by the throaty roar of a powerful engine, followed by the squeal of tires as a BMW tore into the empty parking lot, taking the turn on two wheels.
This could be a group of rich kids out joyriding, taking advantage of the loss of power. Lync had heard from other maintenance men of their malls being trashed by kids with more money than sense, and nothing like that was happening on his watch. He backed away until he stood inside the entryway and reached for the door to yank it shut.
The windows of the BMW were tinted, making it impossible to see who was in the car, and Lync backed away another step. The engine turned off, and a man shoved open the driver’s side door, almost falling out of the car. “No, wait. Please!”
Lync recognized him, recognized his voice. It was Adam James. His overcoat flapped open over a very classy tuxedo, but his bowtie hung undone and his hair was disheveled.
“What are you doing here?” According to the society section—not that Lync usually read it—well, only if Adam James was mentioned—tonight was a gala to raise money for the Laurel Hill Children’s Hospital. The gala was being held in the opera house at the state’s capital, which was some distance away, and for Mr. James to be here at this time of night was unusual.
“This was the best place I could think of.”
“I tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”
Lync blinked in confusion. “Tell who what?”
“Everyone at the gala. They panicked and ran for their cars.” He was almost sobbing, and that shook Lync. Mr. James had always been one of the most composed men he’d ever met. “They wouldn’t listen to me,” he repeated as he rubbed a hand over his face.
Tinnean has been writing since the 3rd grade, where she was inspired to try her hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn’t survive the passage of time; however, her love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school she became a member of the magazine staff, where she contributed a number of stories.
It was with the advent of the family’s second computer – the first intimidated everyone – that her writing took off, enhanced in part by fanfiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.
While involved in fandom, she was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now she concentrates on her original characters and has been published by Nazca Plains, Dreamspinner, JMS Books, Wilde City, and Less Than Three Press, as well as self-publishing six books to date. Recent novels have received honorable mention in the 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, and 2017 Rainbow Awards. Two of the 2014 submissions were finalists, and a 2017 submission was runner-up in the historical romance category.
A New Yorker at heart, she resides in SW Florida with her husband, a desktop, and two laptops.
Ernest Hemingway’s words reflect Tinnean’s devotion to her craft: Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.
She can be contacted at:
Email: [email protected]
Dreamwidth: (since the Russians have taken over LiveJournal) https://tinnean.dreamwidth.org/