Today I’d like to welcome the lovely Renae Kaye to my blog to talk about her new release (it released today!!) Shawn’s Law 🙂
Hi Suki! Thanks for having me on your blog again. I always have a blast when I come to visit. I just wanted to let you know about my new release – Shawn’s Law.
Blurb: Shawn is single, twenty-nine, the full-time carer of his Alzheimer’s-stricken mother and a frequent victim of Murphy’s Law—although his family call it Shawn’s Law. Other than caring for mum, his day consists of painting nude men and spying on the guy who walks his dogs along the street every day at four o’clock. When he takes a spectacular fall on his front steps, who is there to witness it other than the man of his dreams?
Harley doesn’t believe in Shawn’s Law – but he soon changes his mind.
The two men make it through a memorable first date and Shawn’s sexual insecurities to begin a relationship stumbling toward love. But when Shawn’s Law causes Harley to be injured, Shawn is determined to save Harley’s life the only way he knows how—by breaking up with him. Not once, but twice. Throw in a serial killer ex-boyfriend, several deadly Australian animals, two dogs called Bennie, a mother who forgets to wear clothes, an unforgiving Town Council, and a strawberry-flavored condom dolly, and Shawn’s Law is one for the books.
You have great comedic flair, and all the stories I’ve read of yours have made me laugh. Shawn’s Law sounds like the most obvious comedy you’ve written. Did you start out wanting to write something funny or did it just evolve that way?
Yes. You’ve hit the nail on the head with this one. This is the first book that I’ve written where I set out to write a comedy. My other books are humorous, but that’s a by-product of my style of storytelling. In this book I deliberately amped the humour.
To understand my emotions at the time, you will need to have read my book Safe In His Arms. This is the closest I can get to writing angst. The subjects approached in Safe were quite dark – child abuse, rape, murder, prison, domestic violence, mental illness. The last 23,000 words of this book (ie the last third) were written over a ten day period, with the last 10,000 on a single day. At the same time I was proof-reading my debut release. I was exhausted – mentally, emotionally and physically
So Shawn’s Law was my cheering up. I needed some happiness. I needed some zaniness. I needed to laugh until I pissed my pants. So I sat down and created Shawn.
Shawn sounds quite the character. Where did the idea for him come from?
Physically, Shawn is one of the guys who works at my local pools (what else is a mummy/author meant to do while watching her kids at swimming lessons, other than write everyone into a book?) But the idea of Shawn came from my sadist nature.
One of the things that all Australians are secretly proud of? Our killer wildlife that people in other countries are terrified of. The entire concept of Shawn’s Law came from the musing: I wonder how many Australian animals I can get to attack my MC before the end of the story?
However, Shawn’s personality was created from what I hope to achieve in my life. I envy Shawn. You see, if something bad happens to him, he picks himself up, dusts himself off, and carries on with life. Oh, he may need to ring his best friend Kris to calm his nerves, but he never falls into a bad funk and gets all depressed. I wish I was more like him.
Are you accident prone?
LOL. No. Thank goodness. My mother was worried about me in my teen years because I broke so many bones, but the doctor said I was just active. I am a drama queen though. **wink** Once I’ve gotten over my embarrassment, I can make you howl with laughter over some of the situations I find myself in.
Any embarrassing stories you’d like to share?
**snort** Oh, which one to choose?? Okay – because you don’t have 30 minutes for me to explain a long story, I’ll pick a shorter one. (And yes – this is my idea of short).
This happened a month before my 12th birthday. You see, I was a real tomboy. My mother despaired of me, because I could play football better than 80% of the boys in my class. We’re talking Australian Rules here – full body contact, constant tackling of players, running flat out for 20 minutes. I could also kick a torpedo like no other, which made me rather popular at recess time when the boys wanted to practice their marking (jumping in a group and catching the ball). But socially I couldn’t work out how to act and talk. I therefore hung with the boys, and was shunned by the girls in my school.
So when it was time for interschool sports, I had a choice of football, netball or hockey. I wanted football. However my mother insisted on netball, and even went as far as to ring the Principal to make sure her daughter wasn’t signed up for the football team. I was completely upset (as only an 11-year-old girl can be) but more than that, I was humiliated in front of all my friends – the guys on the football team.
Our tiny school was big enough for one football team, two hockey teams (grade A & B) and three netball teams (grade A, B & C). I was put in A-grade netball, and played the position of GA, who is one of two positions responsible for scoring the goals.
The footy team and top two netball teams had to tramp down to the local park to play their games – about a kilometre away – while the others played on the school grounds. We all played hard on the Friday afternoon, and the football team won their match. The B-grade netball also won their game. As we were finishing our game, we heard the news that the two hockey teams, and C-grade netball team were victorious as well. As for my team? We drew the match. We didn’t lose, but we didn’t win either. And we were the only team in school not to win that day.
I remember the moment clearly. We were all walking back to school and I was taking a ribbing from my mates. I was walking between Alex and John, and they were telling me that if I had had the guts to play football, I would’ve been on the winning team. I was also getting blamed for not shooting enough goals for my netball team. We were just mucking around like kids do.
Now to understand the next bit, you need to understand Alex. At the age of 12, this boy stood 5’11 and weighed over 120kgs (about 240lbs). He was huge. He was a mountain. He got away with a lot of shit because of it – because no one would take him on.
Apart from me.
So when he said something mean to me, I said, “Oh, shut up Alex.” And I hit him. I was aiming for his shoulder, but he giggled (and heck, I still remember that giggle) as I whacked him and threw his arm up to protect his face. My arm connected with the pointy end of his elbow – and if you know anything about pressure points…
Yes. I broke my own arm hitting a boy. And goddammit, it hurt! What hurt even more was that Alex didn’t even have a bruise.
The girl my mother was trying to protect by not letting her play football? Ha.
I knew I was in a world of trouble with my mother, so I went home and strapped up my wrist as tight as I could without cutting off the circulation. And I gritted my teeth to the pain and didn’t whine. My mother thought it was a sprain. Over the next eleven days I played three more games of netball. It was my right arm, so was my shooting arm, and I was constantly using it. Finally Mum said I was holding my wrist funny and took me to the doctor. I was in plaster to my shoulder for six weeks, to my elbow for another two weeks, and had strapping for a further three weeks because the break was so bad.
Moral of the story: let your daughters play football.
PS – the last time I saw Alex was at John’s funeral. John had taken his own life after his premature baby son didn’t survive. Alex was now over six feet tall, built like a tank, sported a huge beard, dressed in biker leathers and terrified children by looking at them sideways. I walked straight up to him and sobbed on his chest. He still doesn’t intimidate me.
One thing that readers don’t know about you?
That I hit boys and break my own arms.
Okay, okay – umm… How about that I write gay romance… Hang on, they know that. Damn. That question is harder than I thought.
Okay – how about the fact that I once set my own hair on fire while blowing out my birthday candles? And I have the photo of my hair alight to prove it.
Do you have a favourite among your characters?
**Looks around furtively** Shh! Don’t tell the others, but Jay is my all-time favourite character.
I mean I love all my guys, but Jay is just that little bit special, you know?
Any new stories in the pipeline?
I’m a bad, bad girl. Or maybe that is just that I’m a busy mum. Editing and releasing books was a lot more time and effort than I thought it would be. Writing took a backseat. Therefore I have to admit to not having a line of books ready for release. I’m attempting to rectify the matter, but after Shawn’s Law you won’t see me for a bit.
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shawns-law-renae-kaye/1121263042?ean=2940151483926
Renae Kaye is a lover and hoarder of books who thinks libraries are devilish places because they make you give the books back. She consumed her first adult romance book at the tender age of thirteen and hasn’t stopped since. After years – and thousands of stories! – of not having book characters do what she wants, she decided she would write her own novel and found the characters still didn’t do what she wanted. It hasn’t stopped her though. She believes that maybe one day the world will create a perfect couple – and it will be the most boring story ever. So until then she is stuck with quirky, snarky and imperfect characters who just want their story told.
Renae lives in Perth, Western Australia and writes in five minute snatches between the demands of two kids, a forbearing husband, too many pets, too much housework and her beloved veggie garden. She is a survivor of being the youngest in a large family and believes that laughter (and a good book) can cure anything.
How to contact Renae: