Wednesday, 27 November 2013

N.R. Walker's Breaking Point Blog Tour!

Welcome Welcome Welcome!
Today M/M Author N.R. Walker is joining us and sharing her newest release, Breaking Point.
So grab your coffee, sit back and enjoy.


First I’d like to say a huge thank you to Nancy for having me on her blog today, as part of my Breaking Point blog tour!

Today I’d like to talk about names.

Sometimes I have the name of a character before I have a full plot outline. Sometimes I have the names before I even have an idea for a story.

But sometimes picking names is hard.

I sometimes use online random name generator sites, and sometimes I use the credits on movies or TV shows to see if a name jumps out at me. When I’m really stuck, I have a friend who I can message to, saying “Heeeelp! I need the name for a guy!” and she’ll shoot me back a reply with some random names.

Most times the list is full of names I just can’t use... for real life reasons. A friends name, a cousin’s name, an ex-boyfriend, a guy you hated, someone at work... there’s a ton of names I just could never use.

I saw a comment on Facebook the other day, citing that every second name in the m/m genre was Mark or some other name I can’t even remember. I’ve read some names in books that were similar to random scrabble pieces and to be honest, if it’s difficult to pronounce, when I’m reading that character will be given another name in my head. If the character’s name is Lzureq (I just made that up, btw) in my head, I’ll be calling him Luke or some other easier-to-pronounce name.

I think there’s something to be said for every-day names used in fiction. Yes, some are clich√© and some might be overused, but they’re real. They’re the names of people you meet in real life and sometimes that makes the story all the more believable.



A fight for what's right becomes a fight for his life.

As guilt plagues him, Matthew Elliott’s world begins to spiral out of control. The harder he holds on, the more it slips through his fingers, and he’s helpless to stop it.

Entering into the underground cage-fighting scene, he starts out fighting for what’s right. The deeper he gets, the more guilt consumes him—the more pain he takes for his penance—and he’s soon fighting for more than justice.

He’s fighting for love.

He’s fighting for his life.




“How ’bout you and Kira? Did ya tell him how good you went the other night?”

I sighed. “I, um… I told him I won my fight, but not that I didn’t fight here,” I said quietly. How could I explain this? “He…he doesn’t really understand…”

“But he’s a kick-boxer, yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah, trained in karate as a kid, went on to kick-boxing as he got older. He’s a personal trainer, but teaches boxing as a type of fitness. So he understands the love of it, as a sport, he just…he just struggles with why I’m doing this, why I left the police…” I stopped talking before I said too much.

Arizona looked at me for a long second. “Why’s he struggle with it?”

And I said out loud what I’d only ever told myself. “I’m doing this for him. I’ve not told him that, but I think he knows. I mean, he’s not stupid…”

“You’ve not talked about it?”

I shook my head. “No. He’d feel guilty if I got hurt,” I said. “I don’t want him to worry.” Then I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t want him at risk because of what I did for a living. Doing what I did, being a cop and being in the public eye, put him at risk. I couldn’t put him through it again.”

“He’s okay though, isn’t he?” Arizona asked quietly. “And the girls he was kidnapped with? They’re all doing okay?”

I nodded and kind of shrugged. “They’re all still in counselling, but yeah, they talk openly about it.”

“And you?”

“Me, what?”

“Talk about it? With Kira, with anyone?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Arizona picked up the backpack at his feet and stashed the money I’d given him inside it. “Man, you need to talk about shit like that, or it will eat at you.”

I nodded, and pushed down the knot in my stomach. “I know.”

The big man beside me stood up. “I’m going home, man. Gonna take my girls out for ice cream.”

“Sounds good.”

“You need to go home and talk to Kira.”

I nodded. I knew I did. I wanted to. I needed to. But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t tell him. Not any of it. If I started to tell him one little thing, I’d end up telling him everything, and expose this whole case.

I wouldn’t put him at risk like that. Not again.

When I got home, Kira was on the sofa watching TV. I threw my gym bag on the floor, sat down next to him and curled up into his side with my head on his chest.

He slid his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “You okay?”


Not at all.

I miss you.

I’m sorry.

I’m dying inside.

“Yeah, babe. I’m fine.”


Who am I?
Good question…
I am many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer.
I have pretty, pretty boys who live in my head, who don't let me sleep at night unless I give them life with words.
I like it when they do dirty, dirty things...but I like it even more when they fall in love.
I used to think having people in my head talking to me was weird, until one day I happened across other writers who told me it was normal.
I've been writing ever since…

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A full list of participating blogs in this blog tour!

Ashe Barker -

Thank you so much for stopping by today, N.R. and good luck with Breaking Point!!



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