Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Andrew Grey talks about writing his latest release...

Almost six months ago, I sat down to start writing Redemption by Fire.  At the time I had no idea what I was going to write and no ideas for a story.  I was driving past the fire house near where I live on my way to an appointment and I saw the firemen getting ready for a call.  As I passed, part of the idea for Redemption by Fire sprang into my head.   The rest of it came from listening to the soundtrack for the musical Wicked and its line ‘No one mourns the wicked.’  As soon as I got home from my appointment, I began writing.   Once I was finished, I’d really begun to like and truly understand both characters, so a few months later I wrote Strengthened by Fire and Burnished By Fire.  Both of them will be coming out in the next few months. 

Blurb:  Redemption by Fire 
Dirk Krause is an asshole of the first degree. His life is a hell of his own making, and he makes everyone around him just as miserable. When he’s injured on the job while fighting a fire, he’s nearly unbearable to the hospital staff, and of course no one from his unit cares enough to visit.
Lee Stockton is the new guy at the station, so he gets saddled with the job of bringing Dirk a sympathy bouquet from the guys at the firehouse. To Dirk’s surprise, Lee sees through him like a pane of glass and doesn’t take any of his crap. Lee’s determined to get Dirk to stop being a dick just to push everyone away. When their fighting turns to fucking, will the fireworks shine brightly on a possible relationship or leave them with nothing but ashes?

Purchase Link:  HERE

After a day, he began to feel better. He could breathe more easily even though he was still on oxygen. Once, when he’d woken, he’d found a card from his father, and one from his captain at the station, but other than that, he saw no signs of any visitors. He figured they were waiting until he got better.
He was wrong. The only person he saw other than the nurses and doctors was his father, and his visits were never pleasant.
“So after this, are you going to give up this fireman thing and get a real job? You have a degree. I could get you a job on my team at the brokerage,” his father told him in his usual “I know best” voice. “I’ll start the paperwork for when you get out of here.”
“I don’t…,” Dirk began, but he started to cough, and it got worse and worse. A nurse hurried in and gave him something to calm the spasms, and he collapsed back into the bed, his injured arm aching and his chest hurting like hell. “Can’t we just sit and talk?” Dirk asked, and his father looked at him like he’d asked for the moon.
“I have to be back in the office in half an hour,” his father told him, and Dirk nodded.
Then his father left the room, and Dirk hadn’t had a visitor since. That had been two days ago, three days since he’d awakened, and almost a week since the fire.
As the days went by, he fumed at everyone who walked into his room. He heard the nurses talking about him once in the hallway, but he really didn’t care. He spent most of his days watching television—he couldn’t get out of bed except to go to the bathroom, and it hurt to fucking breathe. This was definitely no picnic! After swearing away yet another nurse, he found himself with Brunhilda, the sadistic nurse from hell, and that did nothing for his mood or his sense of misery. The woman seemed to live to poke him with needles, and a sponge bath from her could make prisoners spill their guts in two minutes flat. “You should work for the CIA,” he told her as she scraped yet more skin off him, but she just grunted and paid no attention to him at all.
After that torture ended, Dirk lay watching television, feeling sorry for himself. His lungs still hurt, but only when he took a deep breath. The doctor had told him that they were hopeful he’d return to normal and that his lungs were aching because they were healing. “Just give it time,” he’d said before leaving.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dirk saw movement in his doorway and steeled himself for another visit from Brunhilda. Instead, he saw what looked like a brick wall casting a shadow carrying flowers in a plastic fire helmet. “You Dirk Krause?” the man asked and slowly stepped into the room, like he was nervous, setting the planter on the tray.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Dirk answered. “Who the hell are you?” The kid might have been huge, but he had a definite baby face, and he looked young as shit.
“Lee Stockton. I’m the new man on third shift, and the guys asked me to bring you the flowers,” the kid said pleasantly, and Dirk watched him shuffle from foot to foot trying to figure out what to say next. “The other guys have been really busy.”
“I’ll bet.” Dirk shifted on the bed, looking at the huge kid. “You draw the short straw or something?” Dirk had no time or use for a pity plant in a cheap bit of plastic that the guys probably had the kid pick up on his way over. “’Cause you’re the first damned guy from the company to visit. So you’ve done your job, and you can go now.” Dirk turned away and waited to hear the kid walk out of the room.
“You really are the biggest asshole on the planet,” the kid said, his voice deeper, and when Dirk turned to look at him, the kid’s eyes blazed. “I didn’t believe them when they told me what a dickhead you could be. But, boy, they weren’t kidding. Two minutes, and you were already acting like an ass. That must be some kind of record. No wonder none of the other guys wanted to come up here.” The kid moved to the side of the bed, and Dirk got a good look at him. The kid’s shirt barely held in his muscles, and when he moved his arm, it looked like the damned shirt was going to rip anytime.
“Well, fuck ’em all,” Dirk said. He wanted to yell, but when he took the breath, his lungs reminded him of their condition by shooting pain down his chest. If they didn’t want to see him, he didn’t want to see those assholes, either. The kid didn’t say anything. He just stared at Dirk like he was from another planet, and then his gaze heated, and Dirk squirmed a little, actually checking to make sure he was covered up. “What’s wrong with you? You some sort of fag?” His arm was throbbing, and his lungs ached with this talking, and he wasn’t in the mood for any crap. He expected the kid’s look to shift to something approaching pity, and he was having none of that.
It had been his experience that whenever anyone was asked that question, they backed away fast, but the kid took a step closer to the bed with an unreadable look on his face. “You seem to have me mistaken with some sort of fucking doormat. I came down here ’cause no one else would visit your sorry ass, and this is the thanks I get. What are you doing calling people names and shit?” Lee took another step closer and stared straight into his eyes, which made Dirk squirm, especially since the kid was freakin’ huge. “Anyone ever tell you not to poke the bear?” Lee said with a growl. “Because you’re damned close.” Lee continued stepping closer until he practically loomed over him. “Why are you such an asshole, anyway? You know what I think?” Lee leaned over the bed, uncomfortably close for Dirk. “I think you’re one fucking huge closet case. I’ve met plenty of guys like you before. You’re fucking miserable, and you make everyone around you pay for it. Well, I saw the way you looked at me, like I was dinner and you wanted to eat me whole. And don’t think for a second you’re ever going to get that chance, because I may fuck ass, but I don’t fuck closet-case assholes like you.”
“What the fuck, man?” Dirk managed to say as he pushed Lee away with his good hand.
“Hey, I see right through you. There’s no hiding. I know a closet case a mile away, and I knew you were gay after being in the room for two seconds. You took one look at me, and I saw the way your eyes bulged and your mouth watered.”
“Little full of yourself, aren’t you?” Dirk pushed harder on Lee’s chest, and damn if he didn’t run up against a mountain of pure American muscle. “Now get the hell away from me. You don’t know shit about shit.” Dirk was more than a little uncomfortable, and Lee’s words were hitting way too close to home.
“I don’t, huh. You got yourself half a hard-on just thinking about me, and those sheets are thin enough that you really can’t hide nothing. So you can cut the bullshit and stop being such an asshole. Now, I brought you your fucking flowers and did what I said I was going to do. You’ll probably be in here for a while yet and at home for even longer, so I suggest you use that time to think about why you’re here all alone and nobody wants to visit your sorry ass.” Lee stepped back and looked toward the door. When he looked back, there was something in Lee’s eyes that Dirk couldn’t read at all. “See you around, closet case.”
“I am not!” Dirk countered, and he really paid for that one as his lungs protested.
Lee turned back to him, and Dirk thought he was going to leave, but he waited for Dirk’s coughing to subside, and then he moved close to the bed again. Dirk thought Lee was going to berate him again, but instead he leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on Dirk’s lips. This was no soft girly kiss, but one hard and strong, with Lee taking possession of Dirk’s mouth as though they’d been kissing forever. Fuck his lungs, the pain in his arms, and everything else. Dirk felt himself go instantly and painfully hard right then and there as his entire body reacted to Lee’s touch. Lee moved his tongue to duel with his, and Dirk lost as Lee took what he wanted in almost every way. Damn, he felt good, and Dirk’s body knew what it wanted and overrode his mind. Suddenly and without warning, Lee pulled back and stepped away from the bed. “Bullshit,” Lee said and strode out of the room without looking back at all.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Kayla Jameth talks about Alexios' Fate

When I sat down to write Alexios' Fate, I didn't realize just how busy this young man would be. He was only supposed to have one lover, but somehow along the way collected three. I was working towards a final hot scene that was inspired by this photo.

The photo evoked an m/m spin on the story of Andromeda, a young princess whose mother's bragging gets her in trouble with the gods. To punish her mother, Andromeda is chained to a rock and a sea serpent is sent to devour her. Fortunately for her, Perseus shows up just in time to rescue her and whisk her off to be his wife.
I intended to write a short story about how Prince Alexios finds himself chained to a rock and awaiting his fate at Apollo's hands. But first his father needed to commit hubris and for that I needed a rivalry.
Enter King Lykos... A man who had once drawn Alexios' father's unrequited passion. A man who I had intended merely to spark a bout of one-upmanship that would culminate in Alexios' father speaking the fateful words that would seal his son's fate.

Lykos is a mature bear of a man with confidence in spades, exactly the kind of man a youth like Alexios would chose to be his mentor. He is in his late 30s, powerfully built with body hair and a beard. Alexios suddenly finds himself drawn sexually to a man for the first time in his life. Lykos returns his interest, much to Alexios' father's disgust.
Interrupted before they can pursue their attraction, Alexios finds himself alone with his slave Galen. He's never really considered Galen in a sexual light, but he's all hot and bothered from being hit on by Lykos. So he takes a closer look at the slightly older man whom he has known for years and decides to experiment.
Thus begins the romance between the two young men.

The story continued to expand, first from a short story to a novella and then to a novel. As is common with my stories, Alexios' Fate took on a life of its own. Alexios was telling me his story and I rushed to set it to paper as fast as I could.
In the final scene, Alexios is offered up to Apollo and doesn't know if he will survive his fate.
I hope you enjoy reading Alexios' tale as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Blurb: The mature King Lykos has a sexy confidence that turns Alexios' head. Seduced by Lykos, Prince Alexios discovers a world of men he's never known before.
Meanwhile his slave Galen has gotten tired of waiting in the wings. He sets out to woo Alexios and win his heart.
Even Apollo can't leave Alexios alone. The young prince finds himself pursued by a god and in danger of a perilous love.
How will Alexios follow his heart when he unwittingly wins the favor of a god? Can Alexios escape the fate of Apollo's past lovers and have the man he wants?

Alexios' father, still red-faced and with fists clenched, followed him into his room and glared at his slave Galen until the young man left. Demetrios twitched the mantle covering Alexios with contempt, almost as if touching the offending garment sullied his hand.
"Explain to me why my son comes back to me in Lykos' care, wearing another man's mantle? I'm sure the other kings want to know as well!" His voice took on a dangerous quality, "Don't play the wanton and act like you're already his."
Alexios jerked his head up, thrumming with restrained anger. "I am a prince of Dicaea! I belong to no one!"
"See that you keep yourself that way. I intend for you to make a marriage alliance. Whichever of those men becomes your father-in-law will have the mentoring of you." His father stalked to the door before turning. "I expect you to compete with the other youths at the games for your coming-of-age."
Feeling like a prize bull being offered to the highest bidder, Alexios tore the mantle from his body. He stood in no more than he would be wearing when he competed. Alexios realized his father not only wanted him to show his prowess, his father also wanted him on exhibit for the other kings.
"The alliance means so much you don't care if you have to put me on display to get what you want?"
"This alliance is more important than your wounded sensibilities. A betrothal will offer us the support we need to expand. A prince's loyalty is to his father. You will obey me in this!"
In spite of his father, his cock filled as he envisioned being on parade before Lykos and the other men. The fantasy of their eyes watching every move his body made gave rise to a shivery feeling at his core. Would they only have eyes for him or would they compare him to the other oiled bodies competing with him for the laurel? Would the victor also become the prize in some fashion?
The blood left Demetrios' face. "That...that man...excites you, doesn't he? Keep away from Lykos!" his father stuttered with a burgeoning air of alarm.
The dismayed man staggered through the doorway. He shoved past the slave standing in the hall, without thought or seeming awareness of his surroundings. Galen bowed to the king and kept an eye on Alexios' father as he stormed down the corridor.
Alexios still stood in openmouthed shock when Galen reentered the room, trying to fathom what his father's outburst had been all about. Bemused, Alexios wondered why his father wanted to keep him away from Lykos. For a moment, he had thought his father was jealous.
"Never mind him. He's not angry at you."
The air cooled his heated skin as he searched for a tunic to cover his nakedness. Galen reached past him to pick up the garment first. His arm brushed against Alexios' sensitive skin and a shudder ran down Alexios' frame.
Alexios turned and caught the look of surprise on his slave's face. Galen's carefully schooled his features to exhibited polite interest, nothing more.
Alexios gazed at the slave with speculation, contemplating what he knew of the man. Galen saw to all his needs, often before he realized he wanted something. The young man served him with such devotion Alexios had never been forced to rebuke him. In fact, Galen went to greater lengths than necessary, certainly more than duty required. He never wondered about the depth of Galen's dedication before. Why was Galen so diligent?
Taking the chiton from Galen's hands, Alexios replaced the garment on the chest at the foot of his bed. He feasted his eyes on the hale and comely slave. He had intended to slake his lust in one of the slave girls, but his own slave stood before him. Maybe he didn't need to go in search of someone else.
"Do you know what to do with this?" He gestured at his engorged cock.
An enigmatic mix of emotions washed across the young man's face. Distaste, hope, and despair jumbled together to distort the handsome features. Without a word, Galen slid to his knees and his hand stretched out to Alexios' cock.

About Me:
A knight and a former princess, Kayla Jameth now spends her time writing m/m romance. A true Renaissance woman, she has done everything from cross stitch like a proper lady to welding with the best of them. An eclectic life has left her with a unique understanding of the world inhabited by men and an appreciation for the difficulties faced by men in m/m relationships. It is her devout wish that her experiences translate into a richer telling of such tales. A minor in classical history left her with a special love of ancient history, especially during the classical period.

Friday, May 18, 2012

hop Against Homophobia

Hello all you M/M romance readers!

It has been brought to my attention that yesterday was the International Day Against Homophobia. RIGHT NOW there is a blog-hopping even going on between May 17th and May 20th around the internet that SEVERAL of AMR authors are participating in. I encourage you all to visit Erika Pike's post on Hop Against Homophobia and view the official list. But below are the AMR authors (and links) who are participating in the hop.

Happy reading!

Kayla Jameth
Michele L Montgomery
Rick Reed 
Rachel Haimowitz
Wade Kelly
JP Bowie
DC Juris
Silvia Violet
Andrew Grey

Monday, May 14, 2012

The Way To A Man's Heart by Silvia Violet

It has often been said that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and several of the heroes in my books believe in this maxim. I love to cook so it's natural for me to write characters who are at home in the kitchen. In Astronomical, Blake catches Greg's eye as soon as Greg moves in next door, but he seals Greg's interest by making him an amazing dinner. Greg has daily fights with the toaster and wouldn't dream of trying something more complicated, so being served a delicious chicken curry ( thoroughly impresses him. Then, the real kicker, brownies for dessert, but not just any brownies. These have a surprise in the middle, Oreos.

The best thing is, Oreo brownies are super easy to make, so if you want to wow a man or you'd just like to impress the crowd at the next summer cook out, all you need to do is stir up some brownie mix as instructed on the box but leave out the water.  Then add ½ cup softened cookies-and-cream ice cream and ¼ cup chocolate fudge topping. Layer half the batter in an 8x8 pan, cover it with Oreos, then cover the cookies with the rest of the batter.  Bake according to the directions on the brownie mix and you'll have something sinfully good, something to bring any man to his knees.

Astronomical by Silvia Violet

A hot, kilt-wearing astronomy geek with a powerful telescope. A tongue-tied librarian who likes his orderly life. Where will their attraction lead them?

When sexy, kilt-wearing astronomy professor Greg MacIntyre moves in next door, Blake Theriot knows he's in trouble. Blake is a research librarian, and he likes things orderly and controlled. But in his secret fantasies, he craves a big, powerful man like Greg to stir up his life.

Every time Blake tries to talk to his erudite neighbor, his brain shuts down and his vocabulary is reduced to one-word utterances, but when Blake's niece challenges him to invite Greg to dinner, he does. A few shots of after-dinner whiskey loosen Blake's inhibitions, and the two men share a hot kiss and the promise of more. Can Blake relax enough to give himself a chance with Greg, or will his fear of letting go ruin his hopes for love?

The front door banged open, making me jump. I muttered a curse as I looked at the spaghetti sauce I'd splattered on my shirt. I'd have to change before I headed to work.
"Blake, are you in the kitchen?"
My sister's shoes made a swishing sound as she walked through the living room and into the kitchen. "It smells great."
"Thanks." I answered absently as I looked through the spice rack for cayenne.
"Have you been outside lately?"
I shook my head. Renee had a conspiratorial tone in her voice that told me trouble was coming. I focused on the sauce. I would not fall prey to her scheme, whatever it was.
"You should come check out the view."
"What?" I tasted the sauce and added more pepper. "Why?"
"When you told me your new neighbor was an astronomy professor, I imagined someone even geekier than you."
Heat rose to my cheeks like it did every time I thought about Dr. Greg MacIntyre. No one had caused such a strong a reaction in me in years. The man was truly devastating. Tall and beefy with wavy red-gold hair I longed to run my hands through, preferably while on my back throwing my legs over his shoulders. No need to choose between brains and brawn with him.
But during the few conversations we'd had, I’d babbled like a fool in response to his erudite remarks. If Greg was gay—and he'd given me no solid reason to believe he was—he wasn't going to want a drooling imbecile for a partner.
Renee started to say something else, but she was interrupted by her daughter, Haley, rushing into the kitchen. "Hey, mom. I thought I heard you come in."
Renee was raising Haley on her own and she worked three night shifts a week as a nurse in pediatric intensive care. Haley usually spent those nights with me and occasionally stuck around for a few hours the day after Renee's last shift so her mom could catch up on sleep or run some errands.
Haley turned pleading eyes on me. "Dr. MacIntyre is outside. Can I go meet him now?"
My shirt was stained. I'd overslept and raced out of the door without shaving or doing anything to tame my curly hair. I was rushing to get dinner made because I'd agreed to fill in for someone at the main campus library and had to go back to work.
But Haley had been anxious to meet Greg since he moved in a week ago. She loved astronomy and all the mind-boggling math it required. She'd seen Greg setting up a telescope in his backyard and hoped he'd let her take a look through it. I couldn't deny her the chance to meet a real-life astrophysicist, especially one so well-respected that LSU had lured him away from Berkley for their Advanced Gamma Ray Survey Mission. I wasn't sure exactly what the program's professors did, but their work sounded impressive and expensive.
I sighed. I'd already made an ass of myself with Greg, what difference did it make how I looked?
"Sure. Just let me—" Before I finished my sentence, Haley shot out of the door. I nearly busted my ass racing after her. Renee laughed as I stumbled down the porch steps.
When I reached the yard, my heart nearly stopped. Greg was indeed outside, up a ladder, fixing a broken gutter, wearing nothing but a utility kilt. A fucking kilt. Could he get any more perfect?
I stared, frozen to the spot. My mouth watered as I took in his muscular legs, his round ass, the broad expanse of his back. He reached up to hook the gutter back in place, and I bit my lip to hold in a groan at the sight of his muscles flexing.
"Uncle Blake?" Haley snapped me out of my trance. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Uh…yeah. I'm fine."
Her lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "You like him, don't you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Dr. MacIntyre."
I prayed her loud whisper hadn't carried across the yard. "He's a nice man."
Not a conversation I wanted to continue. "Come on. Let me introduce you."
As we got closer, I had to resist the urge to look up Greg's kilt. Sweat rolled down my temples as I wondered whether he was naked under there. At least in the Louisiana heat, everyone was sweaty.
"Hi, Greg," I called.
He looked down and smiled. His green eyes sparkled, and my cock responded. I so didn't need to be standing there with a hard-on.

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Silvia Violet
Surrender To Your Darkest Needs
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Friday, May 11, 2012

Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Our dear friend Mark Bowne was fond of that phrase!

Today Marks the two year anniversary of his death. It is a sad day because we are no longer able to talk to our friend and laugh with him and encourage each other with writing and LIFE in general. He was SUCH an inspiration! Mark was full of wisdom and encouragement and love.

So as we pause to say a pray of thanks that we had the privilege to know him-for a day, for a week, for a year, for a life-time-I ask that everyone, in honor of Mark, post pictures of cowboys! He would have loved that! Most of you post hot guys anyway. Today make it about COWBOYS for the author of cowboy romance! Mark Bowne.

In case any of you have not noticed, Mark's writing still survives on FICTION PRESS!
20 STORIES about spies, convicts, ghosts, miner 49ers, and YES cowboys are there for you to read. Take some time and remember an AUTHOR who never had the chance to be published because he left this life too soon.

Mark Bowne, we remember you!