Whither Thou Goest by Tinnean Guest Post & Excerpt!

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Hi peeps, we have Tinnean stopping by today with her upcoming release Whither Thou Goest, Tinnean has a great guest post and there’s a fantastic excerpt so enjoy the post! <3 ~Pixie~

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Whither Thou Goest

(Finding Home 02)


Johnny Smith meets Church Chetwood during the dark days of the Great Depression. He knows Mr. Chetwood can’t be his forever. Why would the handsome and charming director want to stay with a young man who has nothing but his body and skills in bed to offer? His Mr. Chetwood can have any women—or man—he wants, but Johnny is going to keep him as long as he can.

When they have to leave suddenly on the SS August Moon to evade the process servers trying to find Church, Johnny is glad they’ll have more time together. But the crew rises up against the good Captain Johansen, urged on by a stowaway who wants the August Moon for himself. Johnny and Church, together with the captain, the cook, a wireless operator, and the little girl Johnny saved from prostitution, are cast off into a small lifeboat—and doomed to the open sea. Their other option is to try to land on the island where Church once discovered a saber-toothed tiger. The problem is, the last time Church was on this island, twelve men paid the price with their lives. Will Johnny, Church, and their friends make it out alive this time?

Release Date:  8th April 2016

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Looking to the future

Hi everyone! I’m Tinnean, and before I get started giving you a few tidbits about Whither Thou Goest, my newest release from Dreamspinner, I’d like to take a moment to thank the good people at MM Good Book Reviews for having me here today! Thank you!

As my bio says, I’m a Noo Yawk kinda gal. In spite of the fact that I’ve lived in Florida for the past fifteen years, that’s still true.

Back in the day, Channel 9 in NY aired Million Dollar Movie. Each week, they’d show a movie twice an evening and then repeatedly on Saturday and Sunday. One of those movies was King Kong. I’m sure almost everyone has seen it, either the original or one of the remakes. In none of them does Carl Denham find a love interest. Years later, after watching the original King Kong again, I wondered what would have happened if someone like Carl Denham wound up with not a woman but a young man. That seed of an idea grew into Call Me Church. And of course once Johnny and Church escaped from the process servers in NYC, it only made sense to take them on another adventure, and what better quest than to find a lost civilization and a hidden treasure?

The 1930s turned out to be an excellent period in which to place the Finding Home series. There were still areas in the world that were unexplored. No satellites or rockets circled the globe, revealing that there were no islands that could have contained animals from the prehistoric period or the colony of Romans whose ancestors escaped from the machinations of Messallina, (alternate spelling) wife of the emperor Claudius. Let’s face it, that’s a huge ocean out there west of Sumatra. 😉

I’ve spoken of all the research I tend to do, but I can imagine some of my readers wondering what the heck was I thinking to put Johnny’s Island of Many Waterfalls between the Solomon and Coral Seas. After all, in less than ten years the area would be in the midst of the War in the Pacific. First, neither of the two islands are on any map, except for one very old one, and the skipper refused to reveal how he came by it. The Japanese aren’t likely to cruise up there, and neither are the Americans. But I had plans for our friends. Nick joined the Navy. Hildy would have taken up nursing, but at the start of the war, she would have been about fourteen, so she’d have had to find another way to aid the war effort. I planned on having Skipper and Charley sit it out in Honolulu, but they decided they’d travel the North Atlantic run instead, delivering supplies to war-torn Great Britain. (Hey, I’m just the author. They tell me what’s going on.) Meanwhile, Church and Johnny would remain behind, keeping their Island of Many Waterfalls safe. And if anyone did chance to come across their island, they’d get a nasty surprise with the appearance of saber-toothed tigers.

When a story ends, does it really end? Some do. The characters have told everything they needed to tell. But others… well, even when The End appears after the last word, something else just might happen.

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“You knew I was coming for you?”

Johnny glanced at me over his shoulder and gave me one of the sweetest grins I’d ever seen. “I knew. Anyway, I wasn’t going to wait around for Maximus to come back, and I didn’t want you to find me lying here like some damsel in distress, just in case you got delayed, so I tried sawing through the rope with a rock.”

“I’m proud of you, kid.”

“You are? I didn’t do a very good job.”


“Thank you.”

“Don’t be a dope.” I kissed his jaw as gently as I could, then set to work cutting the rope. It took me a few minutes, but finally the rope gave.

I took a minute to catch my breath and look around the chamber, and my jaw dropped. How could I have missed this amazing sight?

Three of the walls were lined with crystals of all shapes and sizes. The afternoon light poured down from an opening in the ceiling—something else I asked myself how I could have missed—and splintered off them, sending splashes of color everywhere. The colors were rich as gemstones—ruby, sapphire, and citrine, emerald and amethyst. They were stunning, and I wondered if they were the treasure of Iwi Po’o.

A fourth wall was covered from ceiling to floor with a drape of thick, leafy vines interspersed with sweet-smelling flowers whose colors rivaled the crystals. In a corner formed by that wall and one of the others was a wide, clear pool. Excess water spilled over the side, supplying the vines with the moisture they needed. The opening that provided access for the light also provided the source of water for the pool. It flowed down in a gentle cascade.

“Before we hightail it out of here, I think it might be a good idea for you to wash that blood off your wrists,” I told him.

“Sure thing, Mr. Chetwood.” Johnny stood there, enraptured. He held his wrists under the waterfall and sighed in pleasure. “That feels good.” He brought a handful of water to his mouth and sipped it, and he closed his eyes in utter bliss. “Oh, this is good. I swear I could get snockered on this. Try it, Church.”

I walked up to the falls and stuck my hand under the water, then shook it vigorously. “Hey, you could have told me it was cold.”

“So sorry,” he said, all innocence, and took another mouthful. I swatted his ass. 

“Smart aleck.” I cupped my hand to catch enough to drink, but Johnny stopped me. He wound his arm around my neck and caressed my lips with his. They were cool, and my mouth opened reflexively under the coaxing pressure. He filled it with the water, and I swallowed in surprise.

He took a step back and watched me, flushing a little.

“You’re right, this is good.” But it was Johnny’s method of feeding it to me that made that drink of water the best I’d ever had. “Again.”

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About Tinnean

Tinnean has been writing since the 3rd grade, where she was inspired to try her hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn’t survive the passage of time; however, her love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school she became a member of the magazine staff, where she contributed a number of stories. 

It was with the advent of the family’s second computer – the first intimidated everyone – that her writing took off, enhanced in part by fanfiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.

While involved in fandom, she was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now she concentrates on her original characters and has been published by Nazca Plains, Dreamspinner, JMS Books, and Wilde City, as well as being self-published. Recent novels have received honorable mention in the 2013, 2014, and 2015 Rainbow Awards, and two of the 2014 submissions were finalists.

A New Yorker at heart, she resides in SW Florida with her husband and two computers.

Ernest Hemingway’s words reflect Tinnean’s devotion to her craft: Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.

She can be contacted at:

Email: tinneantoo@gmail.com | Live Journal | Twitter | Facebook | Amazon Author Page

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