Chaser is now officially available on the publisher website, at Amazon, at AllRomance ebooks, and everywhere good books are sold. I'm stoked because this love story, about a thin gay man who is attracted to men who have "a little meat on their bones" is one of my most unusual--and, I hope, fulfilling--love stories.
The novel is available in both paperback and ebook editions. Read on to see how you can win a FREE, signed copy delivered to your door by me--wearing only combat boots and a jockstrap. Well, maybe that last part was a bit of hyperbole. I will send the winner's copy out first-class mail, though. Details on how to enter are below.
Caden DeSarro is what they call a chubby chaser. He likes his guys with a few extra pounds on them. So when he meets Kevin Dodge in a bar bathroom, he can’t help but stare, even if he does make an ass of himself. As far as Caden is concerned, Kevin is physically perfect: a stocky bearded blond with a dick that’s just right. (They met in the bathroom—of course he looked!) But Caden gets tongue-tied and misses his chance.
When Caden runs into Kevin one night on the el train, he figures it’s fate offering him a second shot. Caden manages to get invited back to Kevin's place for a one-night stand that turns into the kind of relationship he’s dreamed about.
But the course of true love never did run smooth, and Kevin and Caden’s romance is no exception. When Caden returns from a few weeks away on business, Kevin surprises him with a new and “improved” body—one that fits his shallow friend Bobby’s ideal, not Caden’s. Caden doesn’t know what to do, and his hesitation is just the opportunity Bobby was looking for. This isn’t the same Kevin he fell in love with… is it?
Caden returned to scanning the mostly male crowd (there were a few “Graces” here and there, out with their “Wills”) and watching Gaga, trying to determine the secret of her mysterious allure. The woman probably looked like a real plain Jane when she woke up in the morning, but her obvious slavish devotion to wigs and haute couture bordering on costumes (as Caden had learned as a seasoned viewer of Project Runway), elevated her to something irresistible to look at, at once ethereal and gritty.
Bobby whispered in his ear. “See anything you like? Any prospects on the horizon?”
Bobby did have his eye on one guy, down on the lower level at one of the high-topped tables, talking with a couple of friends. He stood out because he was not built like most of the guys here, who were, to a man, either too skinny or too pumped up to register on his attraction meter.
This guy seemed comfortable in his own skin, and Caden liked the way he threw back his head and laughed when one of his buddies said something funny. Unlike most of the other guys in Sidetrack that night, he did not show any signs that he was conscious of his appearance. Caden liked that he wore comfortable clothes, a cotton sweater of faded blue-gray and a simple pair of carpenter pants, most likely Carhartt. He peered over the rail and saw the guy’s feet were encased in work boots. Ah. A blue collar man. A working guy. Just my type. Caden also liked his tousled blond hair, which revealed fetching layers of color that went from almost brown, to wheat, to pale blond, to nearly platinum, yet revealed no indication, Caden thought, of the attentions of a hairdresser. And what put him on the “edge of glory” was the crowning touch: a thick beard, not manicured into tortured geometric lines.
And he was blessedly overweight. Not fat. But a bit of gut protruded, and his thighs, in denim, looked like tree trunks. When he turned around, he revealed an ass of ample proportions, the kind Caden could just imagine as two perfect, creamy white spheres made for grasping and pulling apart.
“Is it hot in here?” Caden shouted in Bobby’s ear. He took a gulp of beer and fanned his hand in front of his face.
Bobby came back with, “No. But from the way you’re gazing dreamily into the crowd, I am betting you’ve spied some man candy that’s making your temperature rise, if not something else.” Playfully, Bobby grabbed Caden’s crotch, testing. Caden slapped his hand away. Bobby was his best friend and had been for years, perhaps due to the fact that neither of them had ever crossed the line that would allow one to enjoy the other on sexual terms. “Come on, you can tell Daddy. Which one is it?” Bobby gazed out at the crowd. “The black guy that looks a bit like Ty Diggs? Or maybe that shaved head at the bar, with the ass that looks like you could rest a tray on it?”
“Nah.” Caden looked at the object of his attraction once more, suddenly wishing Bobby’s Abercrombie stud would return, only to free him up to at least make eyes at the blond. “There’s no one. Just checking things out.” Caden thought of his therapist, Camille, and wondered what she would have to say about Caden’s inability to admit who he was really lusting after.
Again, why would it matter what Bobby thought?
Win a free, signed copy (sorry, prizewinners must live in the US) by leaving your name, comment, and e-mail on Rick's BLOG. Winners will be announced on Thursday, August 30. Good luck! And if you don't want to wait to see if you're a winner, purchase details are below.
BUY from Dreamspinner Press (the first 20 paperback sales will receive an autographed copy)
Thanks for stopping by All Male Romance. Wrap your fingers around a good book tonight!!
>> side note: our blog has over 12,000 page views!<<
Monday, August 20, 2012
release Date August 25th
The idea for the crime arc of this story happened a long time ago, when a beautiful medieval reliquary pendant was discovered by a metal detectorist right on the doorstep of Middleham Castle up in Yorkshire. This was the favoured home of Richard III, and to find such a rich jewel so close to one of the country's most famous castles led to all kinds of speculation in the press and certain historical societies. Was this lost by Richard himself? By his wife, Ann?
It would be nice to imagine it was, but that wasn't what sparked my imagination.
Now, I'm not saying for a moment that there was anything at all shady about this find. There wasn't - luck and local knowledge plays a huge part in the metal detectoring/treasure hunting circles. Yet that, and other amazing discoveries by detectorists since then, set my writerly brain cell working.
You know, the usual author's trigger of "What if..." has a lot to answer for. When I first had the idea about an on-the-edge-of-burn-out retrieval agent having to seduce a man so he could be undercover at a crime scene, a detectorists' scam immediately jumped up and waved flags...
Coming off a high-pressure undercover job for his company's covert Retrievals Department, and despite being on the edge of burnout, Jeff is thrown straight into another mission: set a trap for illegal metal detectorists who'll be planting a priceless reliquary in a field.
To be in the right place at the right time, Jeff seduces Alan, son of the farmer who may or may not be in on the million-dollar scam. The job should be straightforward, easy, and it is—except that Jeff’s usual guard is down, and he finds himself falling for Alan. Still trying to shake off an obsessive ex-lover Alan doesn't want commitment, just a no-strings, friends with benefits relationship. But events have a way of changing minds.
Luck was on Jeff's side. He located his target at the Boat House, the first midtown coffee house and bar he checked at the end of his first day in the office. Despite its name, the place had no connection to the riverside wharfs downtown other than the pictures on its walls. Jeff paused just inside the door to remove his dark blue tie and undo the top two buttons of his cream shirt, and have a surreptitious look around as he did so. Alan Fletcher was sitting at the bar. The series of photos in the man's dossier made him impossible to miss, even when seen from behind. So did his height and untidy mess of copper-red hair badly in need of restyling. All Jeff had to do now was engineer a successful hookup.
The Boat House, conveniently situated five minutes’ walk away from the office and his apartment, hadn't changed much in eight years. The decor was still Victorian municipal green and cream tiles, gleaming brass fittings, and sepia-tinted pictures of wharfs, locks, and canal boats decorated the walls. The clientele remained the upwardly mobile types out to unwind and socialize after a hard day. Singles, too, discreetly looking to connect with the opposite sex. Or the same sex, Jeff observed. By the look of it, the House was an equal opportunities kind of place these days. He threaded his way between the crowded tables and fake-leather easy chairs to the bar, and eased himself into the narrow gap between a tall girl having an intense conversation with a bemused-looking man in a green polo shirt, and his target.
Alan had his back to Jeff and was chatting to an older couple. The woman was African-American, of average height, plump, her strong features good-natured and pleasing rather than pretty, and framed by neat black cornrows. The man was solid with muscle and built foursquare like a brick outhouse, his brown hair thinning and shot with gray. The three of them were comfortable together, in the way of friends and/or work colleagues.
Jeff leaned both elbows on the mahogany surface and relaxed with a long sigh of relief. It was genuine. He felt tired, jaded, and some of it showed.
"Hard day?" the bartender asked with a sympathetic smile.
"Yeah. Just got transferred in from the Manhattan branch. New office, new regime. You know how it goes." He ordered a beer then picked idly at the pretzels in the dish off to his left and just within his reach. He didn't move it closer.
The first swallow of beer slid down Jeff's throat like a cold blessing, and he sighed again. The woman on his right was becoming indignant, the pitch of her voice enough to engrave designs on glass, and he tuned her out with difficulty. To his left, the discussion was a lot more good-natured: an obviously long-standing friendly feud over the merits of football, soccer, and rugby. Alan had an unmistakable English accent and a pleasant, easy on the ear baritone. His laughter, when it came, was the contagious kind that brought a smile to the faces of anyone within hearing. Jeff schooled his expression to a staring-into-space vagueness and did not react.
The argumentative woman finally stormed off, followed more sedately by Alan's friends. Jeff had purposely sat close to him, and when the Englishman shifted to face the bar, he jostled Jeff's elbow. Jeff, who had timed his moment to take a handful of pretzels, let them spill.
"Damn, I'm sorry!" Alan exclaimed, turning quickly.
"It's okay." Jeff brushed a few straying crumbs from his pants. "It is kind of crowded in here." He looked up to meet Alan's hazel eyes and saw the pupils expand in the so-useful giveaway. He knew what the man saw: sable hair, deep-set blue eyes in the hawk-like Italian features he inherited from Grandma Lucreza. A young but dangerous face now he wasn't being Borya: a Mafia hitman masquerading as a male model, back in the day when male models didn't look like they'd blow away in a high wind. "Hey, you're a long way from home. British, right?"
"Yes and no." Alan's smile was engaging. "Mum was American, but I grew up in the UK. Alan Fletcher."
"Jeff," he replied with a full wattage answering smile that was all his own and had nothing to do with his last persona. Alan blinked. Target acquired, Jeff thought.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Tony Visconti gave a satisfied grunt as he opened one eye to stare at his alarm clock. Nice...another half-hour before he had to get up. He rolled over onto his stomach, wriggling in place to get the feel of his morning wood pressed between the mattress and his belly. Also nice. He rolled over again onto his back and gripped the thick length of his cock, stroking it slowly and giving in to the euphoria a good morning wank always gave him.
Shit! Jumping out of his bed he marched over to the window and peered through the slats of the window blind.
"Oh, for crying out loud," he muttered. He'd forgotten that all the tenants in his apartment block had received notice that the building next door was to be demolished to make way for a brand new condominium. The demolition part of the operation was expected to take only a few days, but the actual construction would probably go on for months. Profuse apologies had been made for any inconvenience the tenants might experience, but of course the implication had been that it was just too bad if they were inconvenienced. The city had already approved the construction, so that was that.
Tony frowned as great clouds of dust swirled upward toward his window, which he hastily banged shut to avoid being choked to death. Oh well, he was up now... his cock wasn't though, the distraction having reduced it to its normal but still handsome self. He flicked at it a couple of times but the moment had definitely passed. He needed to pee anyway...
As he washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water, he grimaced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, noting the dark shadows under his light brown eyes.
You need to get more sleep.
Too many late nights staring at that computer screen. He ran his damp hands through his thick black curly hair then stepped back to give his body the once over. His five-nine, one hundred and fifty pound frame had definitely benefited from his thrice weekly visits to the local gym over the past year. Long hours at his computer had been making him soft; so the regimen he'd forced upon himself a year ago was now showing the results he wanted. He'd never be a Bob Parris, but that hadn't been his intention. Too much muscle was high maintenance, and looked strange anyway, in his opinion. No, the sleek definition of his arms and torso was what he'd strived for - and looked good under a tight white tee.
After pulling on a pair of shorts he wandered into the kitchen to get himself a glass of juice. As he drank, he glanced at the list of "things to do" lying on the kitchen counter. As a web designer he had the luxury of doing most of his work at home, but there were always plenty of chores that took him afield into the close knit community of West Hollywood.
Well, it didn't look like he was going to get much peace and quiet today. For the next hour or so he gritted his teeth every time another crash, bang or heavy thud made his apartment shake, much like L.A.'s propensity for sudden jolts of the natural kind. After he'd showered he decided he'd best go out to escape the constant noise. No way was he going to be able to work surrounded by this racket. Fortunately, he was pretty much caught up with the new website he was designing for his latest client.
Starbucks sounded like a good idea. Coffee and a danish before he hit the gym. Maybe by the time he got back they'd have finished with the really annoying part of this "inconvenience". Gathering his workout gear together, he fled from the apartment.
to purchase visit MLR Press!
Monday, August 6, 2012
Hi folks. ::waves:: DC Juris here. For those of you who don't know me, I'm a transgender fella who writes GLBTQ and heterosexual romance, mostly contemporary and fantasy.
When Tristan contacted me on July 23rd to say I'd have a spotlight this week, my mind went immediately to a fellow writer and friend, Talon p.s., who had passed away on the 20th. I asked Tristan if I could giveaway my spot, and of course, the answer was yes.
Then I realized... I didn't know Talon all that well. We'd chatted a couple times, but much of his life remains a mystery to me. Here's what I do know - he had a talent with words, and he made my friend Tom deliriously happy. That's enough for me.
So, I put out a call to his friends and fellow authors, and asked them to share their thoughts and memories. This is going to be long, because most of us here are writers, and you know how writers get when we're asked to talk about stuff. LOL But it's worth the read, trust me. Here's what everyone had to say...
From Lassiter Fallen: What can I say? Talon was a great man and an awesome writer. I am honored to have been able to call him friend. He had a way of drawing you in and blocking out the world, with his books, and his presence and we were all swept along for the ride, by a man, who didn't let Life get in the way of Living.
From Sue Brown: One morning, still early enough that the kids were asleep and the caffeine levels in my blood were still dangerously low, Talon and I had a chat. A long chat. The subject matter is unimportant. At that moment, he needed to talk, and I had time to listen. I learned a lot about Talon that day. It was a privilege to go behind the public mask just for that short period of time, as it is with any of my friends. It was, unfortunately, probably about the only time we really talked. Life and circumstances got in the way. However I won’t forget that talk. Discussing something that fundamentally shapes your life isn’t easy at the best of times, but Talon was eloquent and his words heartfelt. I’m not so good with the public grief, but I can share that memory as one that was important to me.
From C R Guiliano: I am sure my friendship with Talon is not as deep, nor even as meaningful as others. But he did touch my life.
Maybe this is shallow to those who knew him best, but part of the connection I felt for Talon was his use of a black cat avatar. I have been in love with and have had black cats all my life. I know, I know, what a silly thing to think. Well, yes, silly, but I think Talon would have gotten a laugh out of it.
No, I didn’t know him well, but he once made me feel very special. I’ll keep that private, because it’s the only personal memory I have. But, suffice it to say, Talon was—IS—a great guy and I am very saddened that I didn’t have more time to get to know him better.
Because I have been in Tom’s place, this is hard to do. To talk about someone who is gone, to guess that his ‘long-term illness’ was what I think it was. I don’t know. But regardless, I do understand. More than I want to. More than I would ever wish on another. I’m sure Talon knows how hard it is for those left behind.
I know the kitty is looking down and keeping watch. After all, Talon had enough foresight to carry on after his body was no longer here. He’s the first person I’ve ever met that has done that. My own loss didn’t. I find it so sweet that he cared enough about his friends; loved Tom enough, not to abandon them. Not to abandon Tom.
I’ll close now, because I don’t want to short-circuit my keyboard with tears. I miss him. In my own way, I loved him. I will see him again and we will walk and talk and I will finally get to know him. And my hope is that he is safe, happy and pain free…forever.
Tom, you will breathe again, I promise.
From Sammy Goode: Let me introduce you to a friend of mine…an author, Talon ps…
If you are lucky…so very lucky, a person will come along one day who will change your life forever. For some, that person may be a friend…a teacher or mentor…for others, it may be a person whose life or work has had a lasting impact on them. And, in the rarest of times, without any forewarning, someone just might come along who is all those things rolled into one. That was my friend, Talon ps.
It takes a particular kind of determination to become a selfless person—one who lives so that others may excel, one who loves so that others may learn how to as well, one who sacrifices so that others may gain. My friend Talon came out of the night like a meteor, streaking across my starless night and lighting up the sky, thus brightening my world immeasurably.
He taught me how to appreciate the simplest of acts, a kind word, a hand held in support, a voice raised in defense of what is right. And he taught it all with humor, and grace, and just the glint of a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
However, if you can believe it---that is not what I remember most about him. No, I remember his words…his stories…his incredible ability to weave together what would seem to be disconnected storylines into an sweeping tale of such force that the reading of it left one inexorably changed.
“Author Talon P.S. sets up an alternate world where life is measured in microseconds and love is a precious commodity. He spins a sci-fi tale that is fraught with danger, action-packed and sexy! We come to understand that Torin and Lee are actually connected at a level that allows them to feel everything the other is feeling--they are beyond symbiotic--they are entwined irrevocably. When Raffe steps into their lives, and falls in love with Torin it sets off a chain reaction that leaves you breathless and stunned--right up until the cliffhanger ending--which I am still recovering from!” (Excerpted from Goodreads review of Quantam Mates: What Torin Wants)
I had fallen I love…with an author who showed me what love was really all about…who took me by the hand and invited me into his vivid imagination and sat me down and then proceeded to blow my mind. Talon understood the concept of love and how it impacts every aspect of our being more thoroughly than any author I had ever read. And his handling of the written word was nothing short of amazing—you were riveted to the spot, held hostage by his imagery, locked in place by his raw emotionality.
How lovely…how lovely was that? To know that the story you had just read would have a far-reaching impact on how you viewed life well after you devoured the last word on the page.
My friend, Talon ps, was a good man…a brave man…a loving man. A class act. But that was not all he was…no—my friend Talon ps was a storyteller who wove magic into each word he put down on the page. And I? I was richer for having known him…for having had the privilege of saying about him to so many others…”you know, you should meet my friend Tal…he has something to say---something you need to hear.”
Warm winds Tal…and a kiss from my heart to yours.
From Havan Fellows: Hello, my name is Havan. I know everyone has arousing, funny, and touching stories to tell about Talon...he drew emotions out of people easily and with love. My story is simple, sweet, and short. I like hugging people...well I like groping, smooching, and hugging on people...hehe. I even went after Talon in an interview and had to be held back by my muse and his bear...*sighs wistfully*...good times I tell you. Well, one day he posted this pic and told me that this was how he saw us...and I agreed. I will always be pursuing him for loveys...and he'll always play hard to get...but whenever push came to shove and it counted, I never had to chase him—his arms were already around me. Always and forever. <3
From Dawn Roberto: Talon made me laugh. I know, he made you laugh? And your probably shaking your head but when I first met him online in one the private groups we were in, I loved how he can be snarky but not in a mean sort of way. He was a person who if someone needed cheering up, would say something so outrageous you just had to laugh. :-) I smiled, a lot, whenever Talon popped up on Facebook. He just had that quality-you know that specialness that I love finding in people I consider my friends. He was also so damn sweet whenever he was goofing around with Tom. Those two together-sighs- this was what love was to me. These two people who were just made for one another. These two who made me believe in love whenever I felt let down by something or questioning myself. Talon was a good soul, had a big heart and lots of love inside him and the world is a bit dimmer since he left us. The one thing I know is that I am grateful for knowing a person like him and I thank my lucky stars that I was able to interact with him when I could. Talon touched a lot of people and for that I am grateful in having the chance to meet such an exceptional young man. He will be missed.
From Sara York: There are times in life when you get the privilege of witnessing something special. I saw the beginnings of the relationship between Tom and Tal and it took my breath away. Talon was a very special man who inspired many. He was always joking, laughing, and having fun, and he was a very talented author.
Talon's light shown brighter than others. He inspired me to write, not just in general but a very specific story, Love Without Borders. See, that's how Talon was. He loved without borders. Talon saw good in others. He focused on good those around him and that showed in his conversations.
I'm glad I had the chance to know Talon if only for a short while. His memory will live on, hopefully inspiring others to give love freely, helping those around them see the good in this world. ~Sara York
Here is a link to Talon's website, where you'll find information about his books, as well as the hilarious hijinks of his Mad Mad peaCOCKing on the Fence Spotlights:
Here is a link to Talon's author page on Amazon, where you can find his works:
And finally, I'll leave you with the lyrics to a song that makes me think of Tom and Talon every time I hear it.
Overwhelmed by Tim McMorris
From the first time I saw you
I knew that you’d be mine
And from the first glance you gave
My world it slowed, you stopped the time
And in that moment I could see all of the things that we would be
You were the girl I was waiting for, that’d I’d ask to marry me
Like the beauty of the sun you light my life so I can see
You make me laugh and show me how, just how good this life can be
And in our moments filled with joy, is where I live, where I am free
Lay in my arms, I’ll hold you tight, just like you like, continually
And I am, over-whelmed, by you
Am, over come with joy
You’ve, taken me higher, and shown me what love can do
Where would I go, or be, without you
There’s something in your smile that gives me strength to carry on
And there something in your words that lingers even when your gone
Oh I’ve dreamt, that a time like this would come, fulfill my life
Who could of known the one who’d bring it here would be my lovely wife
I could sing a thousand songs about you still that would not do
There’s a million tiny things that make the things that you do, you
I wouldn’t trade our time together, wouldn’t trade for anything
Cause nothing else here in the world can bring the happiness you bring
And I am, over-whelmed, by you
Am, over come with joy
You’ve, taken me higher, and shown me what love can do
Where would I go, or be, without you