Home is where the heart is


Such a wonderful idea to imagine that every time you go home… happiness will be there for you. If not happiness a sense of belonging. There can be so much love and happiness that families can share with each other.6318550531_50fd488d6c_o

Still there is the idea that homes are as cold and uncaring as the world outside. The mistake that people make by only looking at the outside of the relationship and not seeing what the couple themselves see every day.

This inference to what we think or can think that lies within other people’s relationships leads those, especially those with the best of intentions to press their views on other people.
When we see a relationship and ask what can be done… or that couple is doomed… we forget that our own personal relationships are not always chocolates and flowers. We need so much more work for those few moments of joy.

There is not a couple alive and I would figure dead as well, who can say that they had a perfectly happy lifestyle. We have been jealous, greedy, sadistic, overbearing, and worse. But still our love survived because it was love. And true love can take the negative with the positive and realize that those few points of negativity make the points of happiness so much more.
As the saying goes you cannot have an omelet without breaking some eggs. Well have your omelet.

Love

Love by Jin Okubo

It’s four,” I spoke the time feeling frustration creeping in. There were no cooking noises and worst of all there were no flavors crawling upstairs through the crack in the door. At least, at this point I should be smelling the main ingredient in her soup.

And I have never known her not to make tea while she cooks. Why had I not heard the whistle of the kettle? There had to be something, could she really be pulling my leg about the soup.

Fear clenched me, but anger took control. I would not give her the satisfaction of watching me crawl downstairs begging for, begging for… soup. It was my SOUP and she had to give it to me.

Advertisements

Where does the heart go.


There are many things that bring about a new view on novels. This is especially true when it comes to the romance genre. It is my opinion that this genre has seen a large shift to both extremes as to what can constitute romance.

Then there is the idea of who is qualified to write romance. While many of the top romance writers tend to be women, it is clear that this is not just a topic in which women can prevail. That is not to say that women cannot write, but quite the opposite it is to say that we can all write in any genre and should try to step away from the stereotypical ideas of who is qualified to write what.
I am a male writing romance.  I also think that I am doing quite well in the genre as my novels are unique and work well to introduce the topic at hand. Relationships and the complexity that they entail. No one relationship is the same as the other and still there is the need in society for that happy ever after.

I do not write THAT story. I am more into the reality of love. The clear fact that love can prevail and overcome. And while my endings may not be the fairytale endings. They are true to life endings and you can see how love endures beyond our wildest expectations.
So take a ride on the side of love that burns, yearns, and wrecks everything in its way in order to dominate and surpass all.

201208182241
If you are interested in the great romance ride then check out my work.

Jin Okubo

Kaoru In Loves Shadow

 

 

“So… what is the word on him?” Kaoru was direct in her question as she was in her piercing stare. “Please tell me you found something. You did… didn’t you?! I can see it on your face. What…? Tell me! He is crazy, no he is heavily in debt, married?! Yes, I knew it… he is married and I should just move on.” “Easy now,” Bill started, “Don’t get yourself all riled up before it is time. Just like your mother you are. Besides I don’t see my shirt anywhere in the room so what makes you think that I will tell you what I found out.”

Knowing that he could only poke fun at her for so long Bill enjoyed playing games with his niece. “It is going to take me time. But I promise that I will get that shirt before the end of the spring. But I must know about him.” Kaoru pleaded faking tears and all. Knowing her uncle as well as she had the tears were well planned. “It is just that I want to have what mother and father had and now here you are denying me the only information that will bring me happiness.” Turning to look out the window she managed to hide the fact that there were no tears in her eyes.

“Now, now,” Bill moved to console her. “You know that I will not be able to deny you anything. Let me tell you a bit about him. Will that dry those eyes of yours?”

“Well it depends on what you were able to find out.” Kaoru was clearly milking the situation for as much as she could. Had she done any less and her uncle would be less forthcoming with the information. There was always the chance that she was going to miss some vital point that would cause her to make a mistake and have to backtrack later on in a relationship. Robert was a man that she did not want to make that mistake with. There was so much work that she had planned to put into him that would make backtracking tiresome if not impossible.

“Well let’s see where to start.” Bill heading back to the sofa decided against sitting but rather to continue on to the books beautifully shelved and maintained. “These are really nice books now, aren’t they? It really is a shame that there is noone, not a living soul that can pour through these as your father did.” Looking down at a small table the books that had lain open for the world or any visitor to see the previous visit still… lay open in the same spot. There were even new additions to the group, as the earlier ones, had apparently in the same manner been abandoned for other projects.

Shaking his head he continued, “You know that your father would have never let the books sit as they do now. But then again you are not your father. No, no don’t get upset now it is just that there should really be someone that could take care of these books as they are meant to be taken care of.”

“What are you trying to say?” Kaoru interjected.

“Well…” Bill took his time. “This new guy that you have an interest in really likes his books. He is paranoid enough where I was not able to watch him long enough and should I had employed enough junior detectives I might have gotten a chance to follow him for more than a week. But not more than a month. What a jittery young man that you have chosen.”

 

The Du Lac Chronciles, Mary Anne Yarde


The Du Lac Chronciles, Mary Anne YardeThe Du Lac Chronicles 10 Feb 2016 KINDLE
My motivation behind The Du Lac Chronicles
There is something very appealing about chivalry and honour. It is no surprise that the
stories of King Arthur and his knights have etched their way into the hearts of a
nation. They certainly found their way into my heart at a very early age. Their stories
were part of my childhood – growing up very near Glastonbury, I guess that is not
However, I always felt slightly deflated by the ending of Arthur’s story. There is a
terrible battle at Camlann where Arthur is mortally wounded. He is whisked away to
Avalon and that is the last that we hear of him. Likewise, his knights if they have not
already been killed, tend to end their days as hermits. I never really bought into that
ending. It was just too final and far too vague.
I started to research the era and was fascinated with what I learnt. In particular I
became very interested in a Saxon called Cerdic.  In AD 519, Cerdic of Wessex –
according to The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles – became the first West-Saxon King of
Britain. His journey to being crowned is quite extraordinary. He landed in Hampshire
at the end of the fifth Century. He and his son, raged war across the Southern
kingdoms of England – conquered most of them, and brought a sort of unity to the
south that had not been seen since the Roman era.
But here is where it got interesting for me. Cerdic’s exploits and Arthur’s legendary
legacy became entwined. Some say the their armies once met at Badon Hill. I wanted
to explore this possibility some more, and this is where my inspiration for The Du Lac
Chronicles came from.
The Du Lac Chronicles is set a generation after the fall of King Arthur and I wanted
to create a story where the knights did not end up in monasteries and then disappeared
into the shadows of history. I wanted to write about what happened after Arthur died.
In particular, I wanted to write about the changing ‘Saxon’ world that these knights
now found themselves in.
The Du Lac Chronicles follows – through the eyes of Lancelot du Lac’s sons – Cerdic
of Wessex’s campaign to become High King. The world the du Lac’s had known was
to be changed forever by this one man’s determination to enslave the kingdoms under
the Saxon yolk. In my story these men, these knights, do not die easily and they
certainly do not become hermits!
“It is dangerous to become attached to a du Lac.”
Annis whipped her head around to look at the old woman. “You speak Latin?”
The old lady did not answer. She did not even look at Annis, but stared straight in
front of her. “He will break your heart and you will not recover.”
Annis felt her skin crawl at the prophecy and she stood up. “You know not what you
“Do I not?” The old lady cackled and looked at Annis critically. “I wasn’t born old,
you know, and I didn’t used to look like this,” she stated, amused. “I knew Alden’s
father.” She looked at Annis sharply. “I can see a shadow of Lancelot in him. You are
Annis of Wessex. Cerdic’s daughter. I knew him as well.”
Annis paled and took a step back. This woman could see things. She knew things that
others did not. She had heard of witches and sorcerers, never thinking she would ever be
in the company of one. “How do you know them?” she stammered. She heard herself
stumble over her words.
Old Jen shrugged her shoulders. “I am not a spy for your father, if that is what you
think. I am a healer, Annis, a good one. I was a healer in Arthur’s court; and that’s how I
knew Lancelot.” She tittered as she remembered. Lancelot had been an awful patient. He
always thought the world was going to come to an end if he was not on his feet. So he
would push himself until he collapsed and then moan all the time he was recovering. He
told her once that he was convinced that she was trying to poison him. He took to turning
around and walking hurriedly away if he saw her approaching, cheeky beggar. “As for
Cerdic.” The smile fell from her face and her eyes hardened. “You are not like him.”
“I am grateful for that.”
“You are in love with him…Alden du Lac. You love him.” Old Jen said.
“Why do you say that?”
Old Jen cackled again. “You look at him as if you had never seen the sun before. It
makes me feel very old.”
“You are right. I do love him.” Annis confessed.
“Then I am sorry for it. You seem like a nice person.” Old Jen glanced back at the sick
hut. “He cannot marry you. You understand that, don’t you? He cannot unite himself with
the daughter of his enemy. I fear he might be using you. Don’t let him break your heart.”
She saw Annis’s face fall at her words and she immediately felt guilty at being so abrupt.
“But I am old; what do I know?” She added hastily.

Press Release

The Du Lac Chronicles : Book 1

An evocative, timeless saga of love and betrayal”

Tony Riches, author of The Tudor Trilogy

Amazon Best Seller

AD 495, Wessex, Briton.

The Du Lac Chronicles 10 Feb 2016 KINDLE.jpg

If all you had left was your heart, would you give it to your enemy?

A generation after Arthur Pendragon ruled, Briton lies fragmented into warring kingdoms and principalities.

The powerful Saxon King, Cerdic of Wessex, has spent the last twenty years hunting down Arthur’s noble knights. He is determined to secure his kingdom against any reprisals for killing their legendary leader. The knights who have survived the genocide are destined to spend the rest of their lives in hiding, never revealing who they really are.

The only knight who refused to be intimidated by this Saxon invader was Lancelot du Lac. Lancelot and Cerdic formed a fragile truce, but Lancelot has been dead these past eight years and it has fallen to his sons to protect Briton from the ambitions of the Saxon King.

Alden du Lac, the once king of Cerniw and son of Lancelot, has nothing. Betrayed by Cerdic, Alden’s kingdom lies in rubble, his fort razed to the ground and his brother Merton missing, presumably dead. Cerdic has had Alden tied to a post and ordered his skin to be lashed from his back. In the morning, if Alden is still alive, he is to be executed.

Annis, daughter of King Cerdic of Wessex, has been secretly in love with Alden for what seems like forever. She will not stand by and see him die. She defies father, king, and country to save the man she loves from her father’s dungeons. Alden and Annis flee Wessex together.

To the horror of Alden’s few remaining allies, he has given his heart to the daughter of his enemy. Alden’s allies see Annis, at best, as a bargaining chip to avoid war with her powerful father. At worst, they see a Saxon witch with her claws in a broken, wounded king.

Alden has one hope: When you war with one du Lac, you war with them all. His brother Budic, King of Brittany, could offer the deposed young king sanctuary—but whether he will offer the same courtesy to Annis is far less certain.

Links

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1519224435

http://www.amazon.com/Du-Lac-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B01CDK2MK0

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1519224435

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Du-Lac-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B01CDK2MK0

Authors Bio: Mary Anne YardeMary Anne Yarde Head Shot.jpg

Born in Bath, England, Mary Anne Yarde grew up in the southwest of England, surrounded and influenced by centuries of history and mythology. Glastonbury—the fabled Isle of Avalon—was a mere fifteen-minute drive from her home, and tales of King Arthur and his knights were part of her childhood.

At nineteen, Yarde married her childhood sweetheart and began a bachelor of arts in history at Cardiff University, only to have her studies interrupted by the arrival of her first child. She would later return to higher education, studying equine science at Warwickshire College. Horses and history remain two of her major passions.

Yarde keeps busy raising four children and helping run a successful family business. She has many skills but has never mastered cooking—so if you ever drop by, she (and her family) would appreciate some tasty treats or a meal out!

Contact

author@maryanneyarde.com

https://www.maryanneyarde.com/

Twitter @maryanneyarde

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/maryanneyarde/

Blogspot http://maryanneyarde.blogspot.co.uk/

Amazon Author’s page http://www.amazon.com/Mary-Anne-Yarde/e/B01C1WFATA/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

A look ahead.


This weekend I will be doing many things.

First of all for my readers, be ready because I am preparing my own podcast.
It is called Outliers: People Breaking the Mold.

It will be dealing with people like me. We are not your typical people in our chosen fields. I am a male who writes romance. And if you see my reviews I am good at it. But why is there this stigma about men writing romance? Why is there this need to box people in? Well those are the topics I will be covering in my podcast.
This will also come with a monthly google hangout where I will interview and talk with people who are breaking the mold. Comment on here if you are interested in coming on the show.about-me-pic

Next week will also see a new author on the author spotlight. BK Rivers, will be presented here for two weeks. Please enjoy her work and have a good read.

 

201208182241
201208182241

Next month you will be seeing my novel Kaoru in Loves Shadow appearing on netgalley.

I am very excited about that.

Book 2 Brain Cyber Convention


Brain to Books(1)

This past weekend I was given the great privileged to be able to participate in my first book convention. For many authors out there you would say great, and how many books did you sell. Others will see the chance to meet people and think of how amazing it is to get to network with people in your field.

Yet this was more for me. I learned so much and the experience left me in awe. Not only because as an author I need to get my message and myself out there, but because of where I live it is hard for me to attend a convention in person.

This was a cyber convention which allowed all people from many walks of life and from around the world to be able to meet through the power of technology. This also gave great insight into the world we live in today.
As the experience left me drained I will be doing a full post on the event and videos you can watch of the panels later on this week.
Also I will be adding a podcast to my blog because I found out something that I truly did not know. I am one of few in the mass of authors who publishes my line of work.

Now what you may be thinking is that there are tons of romance authors out there and that each one tends to say the same thing. Well I am a bit different, and I am not alone but there are few of us. I am a man. I write romance and I do not hide it. My real name is on my work and I am proud to say that I am a man who writes romance.
Here is an excerpt of my work.

Love

41ues4shkhl
Jin Okubo Love

The Drive

A small squeal gave out as I turned in my seat. Humidity brought about a thin layer of moisture to the skin, which just would not let go. My car was out to get me. I strained to survive driving my car every day. The summer was not kind in these evergreen mountains. But then again it never was, there was so much that I hated about summers. My car just added to the pain of it.

People would comment about the beauty and the joy of being able to spend nice camping trips in the surrounding area. I had never been camping before, that is not until meeting her. I doubted that I would ever go again but we never know. Click, the sound boring a hole, deep into my skull, every time I heard it. Click, the sound a reminder, a solid unforgettable reminder, that I had spent money on something that was more of a pleasure than anything of worth.

CLICK.

Dam windows work,” my yelling did little to move the windows.

A bead of sweat built up on my forehead. My little sauna of a car with windows that did not roll down. Gremlin, what a piece of shit this car was. But what a name. It was the name which made me buy it figuring the chances would be high that the real ones would never try and harm one of their own. They weren’t. The little bastards turned my little driving box into a lemon overnight.

My skin curled as the bead of sweat worked its way down my face, neck and body. At least I could say that I was working on losing weight. She would have loved the idea of me losing a few pounds, it would have brought a chuckle to her that is if I had dared to bring her with me. The fates had smiled on me this day though as she had decided to meet me instead of riding with me. Or had they…

It was mid-June and here I was on my way to meet my bride to be. I had made up my mind. I would finally ask her. She would have been running to the hills had she realized just how soon I had decided to marry her.

It was common knowledge around my inner circle that I wanted to marry this lovely creature if only for the mere fact that she forced in me changes. Changes which I would not make on my own. She made me a better person and there was no way that I could deny that plain and simple fact.

Here I was driving to some coffee shop she had found in the outskirts of the city. A place she had spent visiting with friends. If my windows had only been in working order. That would be a point of gratitude for leaving the city. At least the breeze would have cooled me in this darn heat. ‘Click’ is the only sound that they made.

Leaving the comfort of my surroundings didn’t even cross her mind. The thought that it had would mean only one thing. That meaning would be that the true fact of such a far excursion was to irk me a little, not so much that I would get angry but… she would have to coax a smile out of me before I would be willing to join in any form of conversation upon arriving.

I often wondered if she knew that my windows of my car did not work. She had only been in it at night. Had she figured it out? The question jumped to the front of my mind.

How could I have been such an idiot?

There was the trip a few weeks ago to Venice beach. She meant to meet me there only for me to find that she had not come and I had to drive back all in a day with flowers melting from the heat.

Her game was up I now knew that she enjoyed making me drive in the heat of day knowing full well that my windows did not function, turning my car into a smoldering sauna as I traveled to any given place.

It was a good thing that my heater worked well or she may have me freezing my skin off on some fool’s errand into the mountains in the midst of a blizzard.

Such was the agony of the first summers where I drove in the heat of the day to some place or another only to find the food barely edible and way overpriced. I would highly doubt that any other man in love with a woman would have fared any better than I.

New Age food never quite agreed with me. This whole eat it raw culture that was blooming throughout the world stank of yuppie health guru hearsay with no real backing in science. What had happened to the world in these past few years? After all I was raised knowing that the only way to be healthy was exercise and yet people kept falling for these health scams.

I would quickly point out to her the constant deathly look of these so called health nuts. Still, she enjoyed the seclusion that these places offered. This was one of her quirks, it was her unique perspective of her surroundings, and it was in the end something that would take me the better part of our relationship to figure out.

These high end restaurants serving little more than rocks and twigs with strong coffee would never survive in a city where the general populace wanted real food.

 

 

Inspired By OM


I see you there talking

you speak loud so all can hear

yet when it is my turn to speak

you quietly disappear

how dare you ignore me

how dare you shun me

how dare you use the words I write

you do this all in spite

in spite of the friendship that could be built

bury that knife of neglect to the hilt

my heart can take it

but soon enough another will read me, will share me

soon enough another will give me wind and you will see

that while you passed me over and did not share me

I was still able to be free

And at that time I will leave you

I tell you know so you will know

It was not for what I did not read but what you did not show

What it takes


In an attempt to not be the spam blogger but also find a balance with what I share the line has become very clear. So here I am sharing with you what it takes to get a rise out of me. What you need to have in order for me to like something, reblog something, comment on something.

Liking something.
I find it fun to like things. Even things that I know bother me but the fact that someone put it up and caused my brain to think about it, no matter how much I hate it or love it. I will like it. Posts that make me think are fun to run into. But that is as far as I will go. I will like it because it made me think.

Commenting on something

I comment on things when I feel strongly about the topic. When I want to bring attention to something or when I feel that there has been a violation. It does not matter to me that I may offend, insult, or basically make someone cry. I could care less. I am commenting my opinion and my thoughts from the research that I have done throughout my life. I do not apologize for what anyone else thinks about the words that I type. I work with words daily, in my writing, in my teaching, in my life. Which is why looking back through my posts I tell people to read, reread, and then read again to what I stated, as to often than not the misunderstanding is that the individual did not read or did not comprehend my words.  But back to the topic at hand. I comment on things that draw me in. And no, it does not have to be words. Pictures, video, heck even a good title has gotten me to read it and make a comment.

Reblogging

I reblog friends that talk to me. That means if we interact with comments the more that I will reblog you. I do not reblog everything as there would be not much time for my own posts to get noticed. I do reblog others more than some but this is due to the fact that some people post more blogs and make a larger signal. But still there must be that line of communication for me to reblog. If we have talked if we have even crossed paths on a post somewhere and started to follow the chances are I will reblog your stuff. Talking helps folks.

Do I expect you to reblog me. I would like it, to that extent I will not lie. But no it is not an expectation. Still the more I reblog someone I do hope they take notice of it and decide that some of my works deserve the notice to be reblogged, commented on and liked. On an interesting topic, my words are mine and if I insult you, treat you like crap, or all in all tell you to fuck off, it is not the responsibility of the post hoster, if I am doing a guest post, or mine. Should you know me then you would understand that I do not insult, treat people like crap, or tell people to fuck off unless they deserve it. And nothing is more deserving than talking BS, trying to tell me or anyone else to change the way they behave because it offends your sensibilities.
When it comes to comments on faith, spirituality, religious matters, I default to my atheistic position. Bring me proof, verifiable, falsifiable, and testable by anyone, anywhere in the world.

When it comes to science, medicine, engineering, theoretical or not, bring me recent published papers from peer reviewed magazines.

If it is just a discussion you want then that is fine. And the final note, just because I do not agree with you is not the reason that I may insult you. Agreement or disagreement on a topic is not enough. So think clearly and post clearly. It is the only way we can keep blogs from degrading to the twitter world where everyone just starts spamming and following for the simple fact of getting more views.

Getting followers is nice but if you have 10000 followers but only 10 views per day, then there is something wrong.

By, Jin OkuboBookCoverImage

Author of Love