Once upon a time there was a princess … No, seriously. This princess lived inside of my head and I wanted capture her on paper. You see, I’m an author of romance and Young Adult stories, and characters like this princess are constantly making their presence known inside my head, just begging to have their stories told. This particular princess inhabited a medieval/fantasy type world, similar to George RR Martin’s Westeros (the realm of Game of Thrones). With excitement I began plotting, researching, and outlining her story, an epic tale of love with a man from a rival family, one her own kin have feuded with for generations. There would be battles, there would be castles and kings, and there would be beautiful medieval fashions to be described in ravishing detail.
There was only one problem with the princess and her story. The princess was black. The world she inhabited was filled with characters fitting every color on the ethnic spectrum—a much needed device in Fantasy fiction. Why was this a problem, you might ask? The Fantasy genre needs heroines of color; it needs people of color, period. A strong, smart woman of color in this genre … where is there a problem?
The problem wasn’t with the black princess, or the person who created her. The problem was with the appalling lack of images that could accurately and beautifully portray this princess on the cover of her book. When searching for her likeness on stock image sites, I could not find her. There wasn’t a single photo of this black princess in her flowing, regal gowns, holding her head high. In fact, there were very few photos of women of color, and when I did find them, their quality was not on par with similar photos of her white counterparts. To make things even more difficult, her love interest, the man from the other clan whose love is forbidden, was white. This left me tasked with finding a beautiful photo of a mixed race couple, both in resplendent historical dress. Actually, I needed three, as this princess’ story has stretched itself out to the length of a trilogy.
When there were none to be found, I struck out to create my own images. With the help of my father, a fashion photographer and editor of Encore HD Hair Magazine, and two models who very generously donated their time and faces to my venture, I was able to conduct my own custom shoot. Overseeing the costuming and posing, we were able to produce quality images for use on my covers and advertising media … photos that I felt proud of.
It would seem that this story had a happy ending. It did, though it was more like ‘happy for now’ instead of ‘happily ever after’. Why? Because there still exists an egregious lack of diversity on book covers, a fact that has always weighed heavily on me.
There is a movement happening in the publishing industry, and all you have to do is search the hashtag #WeNeedDiverseBooks to see it unfolding. People are hungry for stories filled with diverse characters … characters who look like them. There are authors and publishers out there committed to making that happen, book by book.
With that in mind, I began to think of how I could help my fellow authors. While speaking with them at various book conventions, or in online forums, I felt their frustration over the lack of images on stock photo sites portraying women of color, plus sized women, and interracial couples in classy, beautiful ways. As a woman who writes a lot of Fantasy and Historical books, the burden becomes even greater.
No one ever seems to think to put a medieval Victorian era gown on a black woman and take stunning photos of her. No one ever seems to think to portray people of color in futuristic, fantasy, or sci-fi style shoots. Even websites that cater specifically to book cover images are failing in this regard.
Thus, the idea for Mosaic Stock was born. As I mentioned before, my father is a fashion photographer and magazine editor. With his resources and contacts, we have the necessary goods to offer authors and publishers a place to shop for book cover images that color the full spectrum of diversity. Our goal is the change the face of books, one cover at a time. We are in the planning/developing phase, with hopes to launch the site summer of 2015.
Here is where you, the person reading this blog post, come in. In order to fund our first two mass photo shoots and get Mosaic Stock up and running, we are currently running a Kickstarter campaign. We have until March 30, 2015 to reach our goal of $5,500—which would cover the cost of renting studio space large enough to accommodate the shoot, costumes, and hair and make-up artists to ensure that our models look their best. Within our first shoot, we hope to shoot several models in various genre themes, so that when we launch, authors and publishers will have a wide range of choices for their book covers.
If you believe we need diverse books, if you want to see more books with girls that look like you on the cover, and if you want to be a part of making a change in the publishing industry, I hope you will consider donating. There are lower and higher level donation tiers suited to every person and their level of willingness to give and resources. Remember, if we do not reach our goal by March 30, Mosaic Stock will not get its funding. But, I am confident that this will not happen. As a community of readers and writers, we can come together to make positive change.
As well, there are some awesome rewards for both readers and writers alike for your contributions. Everything from ebooks to paperbacks, all donated by fellow authors who want to reward people that join this campaign for diversity. For authors free stock photos and book cover designs are on the menu.Visit Kickstarter by clicking here to donate, and remember to share via Facebook, Twitter, or your favorite form of social media once you have. Together, we can change the face of books!
Check out these samples of our photography, some of which will become available on the Mosaic Site, but mostly serve as proof of the quality we are capable of.
To celebrate getting my edits in! Here’s the first page or two of the book, to whet your appetites for June. Text isn’t exactly safe for work, unless you’re my editor. <3
There were few things in the world asperfect as Evander’s prick.
It was neither misshapen nor too small, nor
curved oddly to the side. When it rose with his arousal, jutting hard and
red-tipped from the cloud of golden curls at the base, it was as magnificent a
creation as the tower of Pisa all the way over in far-distant Italy.
If Stephen were to write odes and sonnets—on
pricks in general or Evander’s in particular—they would not focus on the look
of it, but the feel. On the heavy weight that filled Stephen up and broke him
open, in arse or mouth alike; the heat of his skin, so soft when so much else
about him was rough; on the salt-slick slide as he thrust in over Stephen’s
tongue and held there, gasping.
Evander’s prick was the epitome of all
things that were erotic and beautiful in the world.
Loving the man would be easier if Evander
didn’t think so as well.
The thought veered too close to blasphemy; time
to focus on the task at hand.
The noise of the busy London street carried
on outside the shuttered windows of their lodgings. Inside, all was quiet but
for their panting breaths and the wet slide of spit and skin.
The uneven floorboards pressed ridges into
his knees, his lips stretched around the prick in his mouth. The taste of
Evander’s arousal mixed with the remnants of the wine they’d shared, passing
the same bottle back and forth until there was nothing left but dregs.
There was little hope of a breeze on the
best of days, and this sultry summer afternoon was not one of those. Evander
had persisted in wandering around in only his linen shirt and drawers, the
light garments clinging to his lithe frame and his blond hair sticking, damp,
to the back of his neck. Accompanied by the utterly obscene way he had lifted
the bottle to his lips, it had made their current position inevitable.
Stephen’s fingers clenched on Evander’s
thighs, dug in to the solid dips and curves of his muscles, stroked across the
smattering of fair hair. His own prick ached, hard and damp, his trousers too
tight and harsh where they rubbed. He dropped a hand to palm at himself. The
pressure was the barest edge of relief, muted by the wool and linen of his
clothing. He groaned aloud, the sound muffled around the thick cock in his
mouth. Evander thrust in reaction to the vibrations, his fingers clenching in
the bedclothes. Gasps spilled from his lips as he arched, threw his head back
and came.
“Come up here,” Evander ordered, the
command softened by the drowsy satiation in his voice.
Stephen swallowed around Evander’s prick
one last time before he pulled away. It fell from his lips with a wet and
obscene pop, to lie, gleaming, against Evander’s muscled thigh. Stephen let
Evander draw him up onto the bed and he crawled to his usual place, nipping
lightly at Evander’s flank as he moved. Salt tingled on his lips, both of their
bodies damp with the sweat of exertion in the midsummer heat.
Evander seized Stephen’s face in his hands
and kissed him, tongue delving into Stephen’s mouth. He licked in and Stephen
opened for him, passed back the taste of Evander’s own release from tongue to
tongue. His prick throbbed in further urgency at the heat of it, the taste and
feel of him. Evander consumed him, fire and molten steel.
I am busy reworking my 2/3rds done first draft of She Whom I Love, because I actually isolated what had gone wrong from the beginning. And now I’m in love with this story again.
I also added another smut scene. Part of it is below the cut, because… because, that’s why! F/F, regency, no content warnings except smut. (For those who have read chapters of Rite of Summer, ‘Sarah’ is also ‘Sophie.’ It will all make sense later, I promise.) Unedited.
I am busy reworking my 2/3rds done first draft of She Whom I Love, because I actually isolated what had gone wrong from the beginning. And now I’m in love with this story again.
I also added another smut scene. Part of it is below the cut, because… because, that’s why! F/F, regency, no content warnings except smut. (For those who have read chapters of Rite of Summer, ‘Sarah’ is also ‘Sophie.’ It will all make sense later, I promise.) Unedited.
Meg tugged at
the lacing of her short stays and let them fall open. The pink silk brushed
away beneath Sarah’s questing hand, then the white linen beneath, exposing
Meg’s breasts. They were perfection, small, round and firm, her pink nipples
riding high and tight.
Sarah cupped one
in her palm, rolled her hand across the fullness, and Meg gasped when Sarah’s
palm smoothed over the hard pink of her nipple. Sarah bent her head and tasted
it, gently, with the tip of her tongue, circling and flicking, laving and
growing bolder with every whimper and gasp Meg made. Her skin was sweet, a
faint trace of powder lingering against the warmth of musk.
Her nipples
begged to be bitten, Meg’s hips starting to rise and fall with the press and
pull of Sarah’s mouth. She ran her hands up Meg’s thighs, still braced on
either side of Sarah’s knees, and tugged at the fabric enveloping her
legs.
Sarah’s own body
burned, her breath coming in short pants, her heart pulsing loud in her ears. Her
cunt ached, empty and untouched. If Meg slid her thigh between Sarah’s, then
she could find the pressure she needed so desperately.
“Come here.”
Sarah cupped Meg’s bottom in her hands, rising up on her own knees to maneuver
them into a better position. Meg didn’t seem to understand, until she did,
pressing one leg between Sarah’s and riding high on Sarah’s own thigh. Meg’s
pantalets were a ridiculous affectation, just one more place for her to pin
lace. But they were split at the top, and the contrast between the rough edges
of the linen and the silken heat of Meg’s skin, the divot of her inner thigh,
the damp curls of hair, oh! Sarah could understand now why Meg wore them.
they can’t tell that I didn’t write this bit immediately after that one
the six months where I ignored the manuscript are not visible to the naked eye
the bit where I put my head in my hands and muttered “I have no idea what I’m doing” takes place in the single space between the period and the next capital letter.
As soon as I shove that character in, she has always been there
and someone will probably say that she’s the emotional center
and the book couldn’t have been written without her
and nobody will know that I thought of her three thousand words from the end and scrolled up and shoehorned in a couple of paragraphs near the beginning because, for whatever reason, the story needed an elderly nun
she was almost the cook
and for about ten minutes she was the earnest young village priest
and now she has been there since you started reading.
I am sanding down the places where my editor found splinters
kicking up a fine dust of adjectives and dropped phrases
(Wear a breath mask. Work in a well-ventilated area. Have you seen what excess commas can do to your lungs?)
and eventually it will all be polished to a high shine
“The Three Graces has the honor to present this ring as one of the finer examples of its type and condition. Hailing from the earlier 19th century in the romantic portion of the Georgian period, it is exceptional in every regard.
More ornate than the typical cluster ring of the time, the top is hinged and opens to reveal a secret glass covered locket compartment. Hand-engraved to the obverse of the locket top on the interior of the shank is “from Hugh Clunes, to his sister, Margaret”. Exceedingly fine, the top is modeled in a vision of a flower head using natural half saltwater seed pearls and natural half Persian turquoise with a crimped collet perimeter with the central turquoise in a pinched bezel setting.
A trio of half seed pearls set in individual pinched collets forms a “bridge” across the wider section of each split shoulder along with a separate pearl closer to the double shank. Throughout the surface of the 15k yellow gold shank and shoulders you find that characteristic floral texture and pattern for which the English are best known.
Please note how the bifurcated shoulders segue into the double banded shank. Hand engraved to the interior of the shank is the Latin phrase “Pignus Amicitiae” which translates as a pledge of our friendship or a token of our alliance. In all, the period 15k yellow gold ring is set with fourteen (14) natural half seed pearls and seven (7) natural half turquoise cabochons.”
Having the blade of a rapier from the Carlos IV era, this weapon has a percussion pistol frame marked “BALT”. It comes with a stylised animal head hammer and an elongated trigger. Features fluted wood grips and a pommel designed so the user can extend the hand at a certain degree for shooting.
