Hello everyone! Today I am so excited to welcome the fabulous L.A. Witt back to Joyfully Jay! L.A. is here to talk about the rerelease of her book Static. I just loved this book (and the review is up later today). L.A. has also brought a great giveaway. So please join me in giving her a big welcome!
Welcome to the Riptide Publishing/L. A. Witt blog tour for the transgender science fiction novel, Static!
Every comment on this blog tour enters you in a drawing for a choice of two eBooks off my backlist (excluding Static) and a $10 Riptide Publishing store credit. Entries close at midnight, Eastern Time, on January 26th, and winners will be announced on January 27th. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries.
Today, it’s a peek inside Alex’s head as he tries to cope with being stuck in his male body… (adult language, ahoy!)
* * *
Drumming my fingers on the kitchen counter, I debated whether I should call in sick or try to fake it as a female. If I could pull it off, maybe I could keep from outing myself. It was worth a try, anyway. And it was something to think about besides Damon and the conversation we still needed to have, which was a hell of a bonus.
I went into the bathroom and flicked on the light so I could scrutinize my appearance. Within seconds, my resolve had diminished. This was going to take some work.
Women could have short hair, of course, but the way mine was cut screamed “male” to me. Other people might not have noticed, but I would. That was why I’d had it cut like this in the first place, and why my female form had hair almost down to my waist.
I narrowed my eyes at my own reflection. Guess that’s what I get for giving in to society’s conditioning when it comes to gender.
I sighed. Masquerading as a biological female, I could condition myself to accept my appearance, to believe I was really passing myself off as a woman, but it would take time. It would certainly be a while before I was comfortable going out in public appearing as anything other than male.
Then my heart sank a little deeper. No matter what I did to my appearance, there was no masking my voice. I could adopt a female voice in male form, but it was noticeably different from my true female voice. Significantly lower, a little gravelly. Of course, I could always feign a severe cold. Laryngitis, even. No one would be the wiser if I could fake my appearance, too. It was only a temporary situation, after all. Once the implant was out, I’d go female again, and no one would ever know the difference.
Worth a try. I needed some hope that I could keep my secret between now and whenever the implant came out.
I dug around in a drawer for a new razor. The closer I could shave, the better. I was tempted to go over my face twice, but having my skin break out or bleed from every possible angle wouldn’t help matters, so once would have to do.
When I was done, I raised my chin and inspected every last inch of my jaw. It was as smooth as it was going to get. I scowled. Hopefully I could hide the rest under some concealer.
From another drawer, I retrieved some eye makeup. A little eyeliner and some eye shadow would help draw attention away from the harder, more masculine lines that, to me, may as well have said “male” in red neon lights. Maybe some mascara would help, too, as much as I hated the shit.
I uncapped the eyeliner and leaned closer to the mirror.
It was a damned good thing I’d never done a lot of eyebrow-plucking as a woman. I was blessed with fairly thin eyebrows anyway, in both forms, and gaining that perfect skinny arch was just not worth the pain of yanking hairs out by the roots. I had my limits where vanity was concerned. That, and it would be one more gender-specific grooming ritual to remind me whenever I was in the wrong body. Shaving my legs when I felt male or my face when I felt female was bad enough. Feeling male while ripping out hairs to look female? No, thanks.
I smoothed the eyeliner with my finger so the line wouldn’t be quite so sharp. The shifters in ancient Egypt had it easy in this department. All sexes had worn enough kohl to negate any leaning toward the feminine or masculine. Then again, shifters had also been drowned in the Nile with some regularity, so maybe the kohl wasn’t such a hot trade-off after all.
While I tinkered with makeup, I did a quick run-through of every detail I’d have to gloss over. I had a few friends who could hook me up with a wig at a moment’s notice. A turtleneck, much as I hated them, would mask my Adam’s apple and keep any leering coworkers from noticing a stuffed bra. If I didn’t wear any jewelry on my hands, there’d be nothing to draw attention to them. I had several pairs of plain dress shoes that could be worn with a pair of slacks and pass for something acceptably feminine.
Resting my hands on the counter, I stared at myself, and the sinking feeling in my gut made my teeth grind. Concealer and foundation gave my face a smoother appearance. When I leaned closer to the mirror, though, the hint of coarseness was there. Also, I was still freshly shaved. I’d be screwed when my five-o’clock shadow showed up well before quitting time unless I wanted to chance shaving again in the ladies’ room. Wouldn’t that be an awkward moment if someone walked in at the wrong time?
This was pointless. Even with makeup, even if I added a wig, there was no fooling anyone who knew me into believing I was my female form. A stranger might have bought that I was a woman, but anyone else would catch on in short order that something was amiss. I might have passed for a sister or some other relative. There were enough similar features: high cheekbones, blue eyes, more or less the same nose.
Too many differences, though. Differences that weren’t easily concealed. I couldn’t hide the fact that my shoulders were broader and my hips narrower now. As a female, my bone structure was finer. Not quite as angular. More feminine.
More. Fucking. Feminine.
L.A. Witt is an abnormal M/M romance writer currently living in the glamorous and ultra-futuristic metropolis of Omaha, Nebraska, with her husband, two cats, and a disembodied penguin brain that communicates with her telepathically. In addition to writing smut and disturbing the locals, L.A. is said to be working with the US government to perfect a genetic modification that will allow humans to survive indefinitely on Corn Pops and beef jerky. This is all a cover, though, as her primary leisure activity is hunting down her arch nemesis, erotica author Lauren Gallagher, who is also said to be lurking somewhere in Omaha.
After two years together, Alex has been dreading the inevitable moment when Damon learns the truth: that Alex is a shifter, part of a small percentage of the population able to switch genders at will. Thanks to a forced implant, though, Alex is suddenly static—unable to shift—and male. Overnight, he’s out to a world that neither understands nor tolerates shifters . . . and to his heterosexual boyfriend.
Damon is stunned to discover his girlfriend is a shifter, and scared to death of the dangers the implant poses to Alex’s health. He refuses to abandon Alex, but what about their relationship? Damon is straight, and with the implant both costly and dangerous to remove, Alex is stuck as a man.
Stripped of half his identity and facing serious physical and social ramifications, Alex needs Damon more than ever, but he doesn’t see how they can get through this.
Especially if he’s static forever.
Static is available January 20st from Riptide Publishing.
L.A. has brought a great giveaway to share with you all. Every comment on this blog tour enters you in a drawing for a choice of two eBooks off her backlist (excluding Static) and a $10 Riptide Publishing store credit. Entries close at midnight, EST, on January 26th, and winners will be announced on January 27th. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries.
- By entering the giveaway, you’re confirming that you are at least 18 years old.
- Winners will be selected by random number. No purchase necessary to win. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning.
- If you win, you must respond to my email within 48 hours or another winner may be chosen. Please make sure that your spam filter allows email from Joyfully Jay.
- Winners may be announced on the blog following the contest. By entering the contest you are agreeing to allow your name to be posted and promoted as the contest winner by Joyfully Jay.
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