#DartmoorSeries Read-Along: Tastes Like Candy Part One

Men win wars.

Legends inspire them to do so.

And some legends...some are still living...

We've lost all momentum with this read-along, but I'm endeavoring to limp along anyway. For the next few days, we'll take a closer look at Tastes Like Candy. 

Looking at reader comments since the book's release in summer of 2016, this is one of the most well-liked books in the series. After Fearless, it's the one most often mentioned as a favorite in reviews, comments, messages, and emails, and I must admit I've always found that a little surprising - though maybe I shouldn't have. Candy is tall, and bold, and a good brother, a good leader, with a honeyed tongue. I've always loved his name; as with so many of my characters, Derek Snow's nickname was borrowed from a horse I used to know. Candyman; Candy for short. In-universe, this human Candyman earned his nickname thanks to a mean right hook; he's got a reputation for ruining teeth. 

The thing I enjoyed most about writing this book, however, was the glimpse it offers us of Devin Green's brood. 

It had begun like any other task, a photograph slid across her father's ancient cherrywood desk. It was raining, fat drops sliding down the window, casting shadows across the rug in the upstairs room above Baskerville Hall. 

(By now, you'll know that the club is named after a black dog legend - just as in "The Hound of the Baskervilles," and I couldn't resist the chance to name the London chapter's pub and headquarters after the estate in my favorite Sherlock Holmes story of all time.)

Like Ava, Michelle was born into the club - but unlike Ava, she was brought up as a useful soldier - or, more accurately, covert operative - in her father's London biker army. 

Her mother's passing had hit him hard. Someone had needed to step up and be the woman of the house. The woman of the club. She'd never viewed it as a choice, but as a natural progression. 

Michelle's dad, Phillip, never remarried after his wife died, nor did he settle down with a serious, long-term girlfriend, so Michelle, by default, became the woman of the London chapter. Not only that, but the London chapter operates very differently from the Knoxville chapter. London is a major metropolis, and an international hub, and it's simply not possible for a club like the Lean Dogs to be much in charge of anything, the way they are in smaller American cities and towns. Everything Phillip's done, every ladder he's climbed, every toe-hold he's achieved, has come through subtly and subterfuge, rather than the outright flexing of muscles, and he's used every tool at his disposal - including his daughter. The London chapter doesn't ride down the street in formation, or have shootouts in public - but like with all chapters, they handle problems that regular folks bring to their doorstep. When someone gets in deep trouble that can't be handled by the police, they come to the Dogs, and the Dogs make it right - though with less flash and strutting about than the American Dogs. The delightful irony of it all, for me, is that all of Devin's boys hate him, and yet all of them have tackled life's problems with dispassion, cunning, treachery, and finely-honed skill, just as he would. 

I'm still genuinely surprised that readers were surprised by the spy angle in Prodigal Son, when this book lays all the groundwork for it. Oh well. 

TLC opens in London, with Michelle and her uncle - who was raised as her brother - Tommy on an op gone wrong. We get to see flashes of the weeks leading up to it, the ways the club, as it expands and matures, is changing, the ways Tommy's already worried about the way some members react to her role with the Dogs. We get to meet Albie, and see his secret stash. And we get to see the verdict handed down, after the explosion: Michelle can't stay in London. 

Michelle has a lot in common with the other old ladies that we've met - her toughness, and her attitude, and her fierce love of family - but she interacts with the club in a completely new way from all the women we've met so far. That was exciting to write. Her role is one that inevitably shifts when she goes to Texas...but it's a role that we're exploring again in Lone Star, which is book seven of the main series, and coming soon. LS asks, Can someone who worked in the trenches alongside the club take a step back and be content with a more domestic life? The book is all about restlessness, in all its forms, and learning how to reconcile the different sides of a life. 

#TeaserTuesday: Lionheart First Look

Big teaser today! A look at Sons of Rome book five, Lionheart, due out this Christmas. 

Red set the little potted cactus down on the table in front of her brother, Eighteen. We have to give him a name! she thought for at least the hundredth time. She wanted him – both of them, Twelve, too – to choose their own names. Rooster had given her hers – but it had been a choice. What about Red? And she’d liked it right away, the simplicity of it; the way, just three letters, it sounded like a pet name, something intimate between two people who cared for one another. And in his low, rough voice, too…Red…

#Loverboy Read-Along

At the beginning of last week, I anticipated writing several posts for the read-along of this book. It was the most challenging - and in that sense rewarding - book of the whole series for me, and it covers all sorts of sensitive topics. There was a lot of unpacking to do, I thought. I've blogged about it in the past, but I spent all of last week struggling to put together a post. And I finally realized why. It's a tough book to read, yes, but I also think it's a book that says what it needs to. I don't know that blogging about it after the fact adds to its meaning or impact. 

So I decided I'm not going to pick it apart and tease out every scene. But I will say two things about it.

One, it was important to me that Tango not be stoic throughout this story. This isn't a book about being a tough biker guy. Tango can't be stoic here - he's hurting in so, so many ways. He needs help. His heart's shattered. I wanted to show him in pieces; show him struggling, and emotional, and leaning on his friends - and I wanted to show those friends picking him up and showing him that he's loved, unconditionally. It's a story about hope and healing and recovery, and, not about forgetting the past, but learning to live with it. I wanted Kev to be vulnerable. Every single line in which he seems fragile was a deliberate choice. 

And two, I wanted to pull back the curtain on Ian and show that this villain started as a victim. He isn't cruel for the sake of it. He isn't a cackling madman. At heart, he's a very damaged little boy doing the best he can - but where Tango has punished himself, Ian has punished others. His drug of choice has been flexing his power. I wanted to show the ways two people can go through the same thing, and walk away from it with completely different coping mechanisms for their trauma. Neither is right, neither is wrong. This is who they are; this is how they've healed, which is to say, badly. But, with loving support, they can start to soften some of those scars. 

What's your favorite thing about Loverboy? Is it a book you can read over and over again? Or does it hurt too much?