All Male Romance

What G. A. Hauser has to say...

2012-02-23T05:31:00.000-08:00

Reasons To Fight

In the news I heard something good for a change. Prop 8 in California was deemed unconstitutional. Good. That should settle it.
But no- it hasn't.
There are individuals who want to 'fight' this ruling.
Okay...inhale-exhale don't scream. I ask myself daily what are the reasons for their fight. Since I write about same sex love, the absurdity of this crusade against love and marriage has me more than puzzled. It has me furious.
When I look around the world via every media outlet you can imagine, I see so many wrongs that need to be righted. Serious problems that could really use some help. Being an animal advocate I would love to see the venomously rabid anti-gay marriage dipshits, go all out to save endangered species and habitat. Or how about being an activist for human rights in countries where people are being murdered by insane dictators. Or perhaps we should feed hungry children, give money to AIDS and cancer research, wave signs and banners to stop victims of domestic violence or gang violence.
Maybe the cash that continues to flow into the coffers of anti-same sex marriage funds could be better used to rebuild homes of disaster victims, aid the Red Cross or perhaps some of their effort and illogical screaming and stomping would be better served to help clean up the air, water, litter...good Lord, people- I would rather see them on the side of the road with litter bags picking up trash. At least that's productive and helpful.

These anti-marriage activists make the occupy anarchists seem intelligent by comparison. At least the anarchists don't want to restrict civil rights. Human rights. Basic rights.

Really? All that time, money and effort can't be better spent? All the energy and ranting about love and marriage can't be redirected to something that actually will improve the quality of life?

We must have a logical reason to fight. A reason that is not religion bound. Religion based decisions go against basic rights. Don't get me going on the religious extremists in this world. I'll become Lewis Black and my head would explode. But if you need to invent reasons that are purely self-serving in your pseudo-pious mind, invent reasons to give to people who are in need. To fight for animal rights, to clean up a community.
Stop wasting so much of everyone's time, resources and energy to restrict love.
You will not prevent people from loving each other, living together, or sharing their property with each other.
All you will do is show how ignorant and intolerant you are.

Get off the hate bandwagon and stop hiding behind religion for your rationality.
Let everyone have the right to be happy.
Talk about insane? Since when are straight people the role model for marriage? The irony there isn't lost on anyone. And now there's a fight for legalized polygamy?

You want to give me a reason to fight? Keep trying to stop love between two men or two women. That alone gives me reasons to fight.

Be safe out there.

Available now from the GA Hauser Collection, LLC

MIDNIGHT IN LONDON

WWW.AUTHORGAHAUSER.COM

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Apologies

2012-02-23T05:29:00.000-08:00

To all who follow All Male Romance...

I'm sorry I am slow at posting new Blogs. I've been preparing for the Rainbow Book Fair and have overlooked some of my normal tasks.

Here is a link to the Rainbow Book Fair: http://rainbowbookfair.org/exhibitors/

All Male Romance IS an official Sponsor and it will reflect on the RBF site soon. I believe we are to be located at table A8 on the main floor.

I hope you can visit and take home some "swag" about our authors!

Thanks,

Tristan

Crossroads novellas by Keta Diablo

2012-02-06T11:03:00.000-08:00

Crossroads, Novella 1
Nook: http://bit.ly/tEDKqy
Kindle: http://amzn.to/tVKgIO

Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/t8dd53

Handsome ex-cop Frank McGuire is on a quest to locate his dead partner's missing son and uses his ability to commune with the dead to assist him. Rand Brennan has an identity issue, exacerbated due to the death of his father. Hoping to find himself, Rand drops out of college, takes to the streets, and doesn't realize he's embroiled in duplicity and murder. In order to save Rand, Frank must confront the nefarious killers and, confront his long-suppressed feelings for Rand. Elements of intense sexual activity

"Ms. Diablo carefully orchestrates the scenes to include just the right amount of fear, stimulation and eroticism. The reader is instantly driven to not only see where the characters end up but also to find out the identity of the Black Rail Killer. The reveal is not what you think and that makes it so much more enticing." You Gotta Read – Our Top Rating! 5 Stars

There’s no one who can deliver snark like Frank McQuire, ex-cop turned private investigator. Here he’s finally found Rand (living on the streets) and followed him back to his studio apartment. Frank’s intent is to scare him, but things get carried away once he sees the man who’s always made his heart race.

Excerpt:

Frank holstered the gun, grabbed Rand by the hair and shoved him toward the wall, face first. A fine bead of sweat had broken out on Rand’s forehead and his hands were clenched tightly at his sides. “You call me sir when you address me.”

Yes, sir.”

What’s in the box you carried home tonight if not drugs?”

You followed me?” Rand cranked his neck around to look at him.

Frank pushed his face into the wall and kicked his feet out until his legs were spread wide. “Put your hands on the wall, palms flat. You even twitch, I’ll drop you quicker than butter melting in a pan, got that?”

I ain’t got no drugs, man—I mean, sir.”

Such a smart, pretty boy and a quick learner,” Frank said.

Acutely aware of the smooth, tanned skin of his shoulders and back, mere inches from him, and the sinewy muscles of his forearm stretched out to the wall, Frank sucked in a quiet breath. To heighten the tension, Frank put his hand on his back and snapped the elastic band of his briefs. “You know what they do to little boys in prison?”

Rand shivered, whether from the threat of prison or the stranger behind him,

Frank didn’t know. “Sir, if someone told you I had drugs, they lied. I swear I don’t.”

Frank rolled the boxers from his hips and left them hugging his knees. Kick ’em off. Now!”

* * *

Four novellas in the BEST-SELLING series CROSSROADS. This passage is from Novella 1.

***

Crossroads Revisited, Novella 2, Paranormal Gay Fiction
Nook: http://bit.ly/tbbfmv
Kindle:http://amzn.to/sm0HfB

Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/uJ9Ebu

Serial Killer. Suspense. Paranormal. GHOSTS. Frank McGuire is beginning to think the City has become a melting pot for serial killers. Another maniac is stalking the streets, only this time the deviant isn't tracking Goth girls, but gay college students. Rumors surface that put Frank's life in jeopardy, and somehow he must protect Rand from the carnage about to unfold. What he didn't count on was Rand becoming the killer's next victim. Elements: Scenes of intense sexuality

"This book is a must have! If you read Crossroads and loved it as much as I did then you need to get your hands on a copy of Crossroads Revisited now! It’s just as good and even better than the first. Diablo delivers STEAM -- hot, sexy and mysterious male/male erotic romance novel that will have you panting. I simply couldn’t stop reading." Talk About My Favorite Authors – 5 Stars

Crossroads Showdown, Novella 3, Paranormal Gay Fiction
Nook: http://bit.ly/rqEOSP
Kindle:http://amzn.to/svWJFH

Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/t097sO

Mystery Suspense. Thriller. PARANORMAL. Tough PI, Frank McGuire, attempts to help the FBI locate three abducted children from a small town in West Virginia. While channeling his inner spirit for assistance, he mistakenly calls forth a ghost. As Frank races against time to locate the missing girls, he receives help from the most unlikely of sources. To complicate matters, Rand has decided it’s time Frank commit to their relationship -- or run the risk of Rand being gone when he returns. Elements of intense sexuality.

"The third book in the trilogy is Crossroads Showdown. Another killer is on the loose and once again Frank pulls out all the stops using his power to communicate with the dead. He channels spirits to help him find the person taking little girls. High powered and breathtaking suspense, this third in the series carries the most drama and action. Crossroads Series: Three dynamic books that carry elements of suspense and romance. Coming from Diablo, this is one killer combination." Book Junkie, 5 Stars

Crossroads Shadowland, Novella 4, Paranormal (ghosts) Gay Fiction
Nook: http://bit.ly/sHB2oL
Kindle:http://amzn.to/u2jQQz

Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/v4Wn6A

Frank must travel to Louisiana to solve another missing persons' case. This time, Rand insists on accompanying Frank to get a hands-on introduction to the PI business. Evil forces are at work in the bayou. Frank battles a centuries' old ghost and races against time to save two innocent young men from eternal damnation. Rand gets caught in vortex of prejudice when he encounters a sinister duo bent on violence against gays. Sinister machinations converge in a maelstrom of retribution and hate. Frank must pull out all the stops to save the young men and the man who holds his heart.

Keta Diablo's Crossroads: Shadowland was an incredible story. Rand and Frank are so well developed they feel like old friends. The plot leaves you with the chills. You experience true evil and then relief when good intervenes. Hot passion and spine-tingling danger combine with the gratification and sorrow at the end to produce a tale that will continue to haunt you even after you're done reading. We can only urge Keta Diablo to finish Book Five so we can see what happens next." CataNetwork/Sensual Reads, 5 Stars - TOP REVIEWER PICK

Hope you enjoy them!

Keta

http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com

An Anthology for Charity

2012-01-30T07:59:00.000-08:00

Coming from the Empire Trust for Charities Worldwide, Five talented Empire Authors team up to weave together An Empire Of Broken Hearts, a masterpiece of short stories brought together in one anthology for charity.

Sharon Lea Ford brings us a tale of the Australian Outback, a young woman and a Jackeroo experience love and the trials of living the farm life. This story will tug at the heartstrings and give us pause to be grateful for what we possess.

G.B Hobson tells of the far-reaching repercussions of a woman's unrequited love. Two men forbidden by religion and culture to live in a loving relationship must decide if life is worth living halfway or if their love can cross all barriers.

Geoffrey Knight delivers a melancholy story turned sweet, woven around two young boys. Their lives lived in shades of grey until a chance encounter brings them together for one colorful day of fun, fascination, and what it is to first fall in love without even knowing what it means.

Savannah Chase shows us chance encounters between a woman and a man can create something truly special. Even if tragedy strikes it can leave behind the greatest miracle of all. There is nothing more powerful than the love between two people.

Justin James tells a traumatic story of being victimized. When inner strength fails, and the pieces of body, soul and spirit must be mended, an angel is needed. One random act of kindness brings together two people, allowing the healing process to begin and a new story to unfold. purchase here

What is Empire Trust?

When Dare Empire eMedia Productions first decided to begin the project of compiling stories for an Anthology, the CEO and all the Authors involved decided that they wanted to give the proceeds from the Anthology to Charity. They each chose a few Charities that were close to their hearts and from that list four Charities were chosen to participate, and receive the funds as donations. Due to existing partnerships and the adult content of the catalogue which the Empire presently has, most of the chosen Charities were unable to participate in the project.

So, the 'Empire Trust' was borne. The Trust, which is an account maintained by the Empire, is where all the proceeds from the Anthology will be sent, and kept in trust.

The first of the Empire's annual Anthologies will release in November 2011. On the anniversary of the release date, all the accumulated funds from the sales of the Anthology over the year will be divided into six, six Authors/six Charities, and the funds will be dispersed in equal parts to these Charities across the world.
That is how the Empire Trust will operate, once a year the Trust will be emptied into however many Charities for however many Authors we have included in the Anthology in any given year.

What Charities?

Our chosen Charities for 2011 Anthology Trust Funds

The Royal District Nurses Association

Save The Children

YEAH - Youth Empowerment Against HIV/AIDS

National Breast Cancer Foundation

PLAN Canada

The Skin Cancer Foundation

An Empire Of Broken Hearts is an Anthology for Charities World-Wide. All proceeds from the sale of this title will go to the Empire Trust. For more information please visit www.dare-empire.com

I Heart Boston Terriers

2012-01-23T08:24:00.001-08:00

I'm so pleased to announce the release of my latest love story, "I Heart Boston Terriers" as part of Amber Allure's pet-themed Heavy Petting PAX collection of romances.

I'm doubly excited because the cover model for this story is my very own Boston terrier, Lily. Although she'll never know it, the story is also dedicated to her.

Here's what "I Heart Boston Terriers" is about:

Love at first sight can work for dogs as well as humans.

When Aaron finds Mavis, an emaciated and timid Boston terrier, at a pet adoption fair, his heart goes out to her--irrevocably.

When Christian, who is manning the adoption fair for the Humane Society that fateful autumn Saturday, finds Aaron, his heart goes out to him--irrevocably.

I Heart Boston Terriers is all about embracing love, whether it's for someone who walks on four legs, or someone who walks on two. The Boston terrier Mavis' journey back to wholeness and finding her forever home runs parallel to the story of two men discovering one another at just that perfect moment--a moment that defies logic, propriety, and common sense.

But then when do the dictates of love follow a rational course?

Come along for a journey about a man and his dog and see how that journey teaches him the truth about love and making a caring connection that just might last a lifetime.

Click to Purchase

And here's a little taste:

...Christian returned to Mavis. "I want to see you make this your forever home, Mavis. It's a place where you can feel safer and safer with every passing day."

Aaron loved what he was telling the dog, whether she understood or not. Aaron believed any creature could pick up on the caring in Christian's voice; he certainly could. But he worried about Becca. She hadn't left the door open for second chances or a "forever home" and Aaron was doubtful this one visit from Christian could change things so much that she would allow Mavis to stay after all.

One of the last things she had said, before leaving for her Internet date, was, "I was going to wear those Jimmy Choos today, too. Damn it. Those shoes were mantraps, I tell you." She had laughed, but Aaron could hear the regret and longing in her voice. He would never understand how someone, his sister especially, could allow a pair of shoes to take precedence over a living thing.

Christian held Mavis up and out to Aaron. "Here. You try."

Awkwardly, as if he were taking a newborn from Christian, he took Mavis into his arms, cradling her and letting one arm support her along her soft and warm belly.

"Just talk to her," Christian said. "Just like I did--let her know you care, but make sure she understands you're in charge."

Aaron met Christian's expectant gaze.

"Go on," Christian encouraged.

Aaron didn't know if he was doing the right thing, continuing to build a bond with a dog his sister had insisted go back to the pound. But Mavis was looking up at him with appellate eyes, as if she too were waiting for him to make his move. Aaron doubted anyone could resist those eyes; they were perfectly round, a rich deep brown, and stared out of a face that was, all at once, wise, soulful, and a little melancholy.

He kind of let himself drift into the dog's deep gaze and almost forgot Christian was there. He certainly forgot about Becca's wishes as he began to speak, gently stroking Mavis' head all the while.

"You and me, kid. We're two of a kind. Alone. A bit unwanted, yes." He massaged her neck. "But you and me, we both have a lot to offer, don't we? So we're not gonna feel sorry for ourselves, are we? We're both survivors, too, and we're not gonna let this temporary setback get us down permanently. We're going to remember that life is a series of sunshine and rainy days--and no one escapes either. That's the thing we have to bear in mind: that the rain does stop falling, the sun does come out again. It happens for all of us.

"It's happening for you, little stinker. Right now. You've found someone who's decided to give you a home, someone who's made the most important decision a person can make--to love." He let himself feel the solidity of Mavis' compact body against his own and knew, right then, that come hell or high water, sisters or shoes, nothing was going to come between this man and his dog.

"And while you may not love me yet, I think you will. If you get no other sense from my words than this, remember: I am not going to let anything bad happen to you, ever. Not if I can help it."

He released Mavis, setting her gently down at his feet, where she promptly curled up, calmer than he had ever seen her.

Gradually, he came back to reality and realized he'd probably just made an ass of himself in front of Christian. What he had said to the dog was heartfelt, but what if Christian had seen them as nothing more than Hallmark platitudes? He was lifting his head to give the guy one of his patented sheepish grins, when he noticed Christian looking at him.

If he didn't know better, he would say the guy was touched. And not "touched in the head" either, although he might be that as well, but touched as in something really got through to him.

Christian slowly shook his head. He didn't say anything for a long while and then what he said next wasn't at all what Aaron expected.

"Can I kiss you?..."

Buy your copy here.

Spotlight author of the week at All Male Romance - http://www.allmaleromance.com/

Thanks for reading!

Rick R Reed

Visit: http://www.rickrreed.com Follow: http://rickrreedreality.blogspot.com/
Check out my latest release, the AIDS-era love story, Caregiver In ebook: http://bit.ly/srNWDT In paperback: http://bit.ly/sBqive Kindle: http://amzn.to/vcrteK
Twitter: http://twitter.com/RickRReed Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RickRReedBooks

Rainbow Book Fair

2012-01-23T06:53:00.000-08:00

Greetings!

I LOVE the fact that All Male Romance will be headed to the 4th annual Rainbow Book Fair in New York City!

rainbow book fair - exhibitors

PLEASE!!!! Stop by our table and check out the books and swag available!

Also, please note, last year we tried something new. There was a drawing for a mug and a gift card and a few other things. This did not go well. Not that people didn't come by and fill in the entry card-they did-but upon tempting to contact one of the winners, the AMR representative (one of our authors) was cussed out for 15 when the recipient returned her call and left a message. Needless to say, this discouraged the author from calling anyone else. If you won and received a call and didn't get your prize (we have the drawn cards, we know who you are); you may come up to the table this year and introduce yourselves and collect your prize. But please, don't fill in the cards with erroneous information.

Last year we gave out 50 free CDs full of free-reads from our authors! This is something we hope to repeat! Come by and ask for one!

We also did a survey asking if you'd like a "news letter" sent out. Some people said yes and that MAY be something our organization will start soon.

That's all for now!

Tristan ;)

Xavier Axelson's new release: Lily

2012-01-16T03:56:00.000-08:00

Blurb:

When Pryor's daughter Lily is taken by a wolf, Pryor is convinced she has turned into the creature he sees lurking in his woods. He swears she promises to return to him. But is it his despair and desperation making him see things or is there something more lurking in the shadows of the forest? When he meets Ned, a silversmith who helps him with a plan to bring his daughter back into his life, he begins to live again. But can his newfound love help ease the horror that may be waiting? What if the ultimate horror isn’t when Lily was taken but it’s when Lily returns and he realizes his nightmare has only just begun...

Excerpt:

LILY

I am Lily's father, my name is Pryor. It was a year ago last Father's Day when she was taken from me. I still believe being Lily's father is the most important thing in this world.

Unfortunately, my daughter dwells in another world.
* * * * *

I glanced at the necklace. Ned's pressed close to me, but the necklace I hoped would bring Lily back to me felt closer. Ned was soft in his sleep; not the bull of a man he was when he's awake. I loved him soft and I loved him hard. It was his hardness that grounded me, that brought me in from the darkness. The necklace caught the light of the fading moon and I wondered where Lily was tonight.

The old clock on the nightstand hummed quietly; its vintage florescent glow a pale mockery of the necklace that lay beside it and yet I heard the clock, it won in that department. Time always does.

Ned moved against me, I could feel his arms pull me close, felt the bulge of his muscles, his arms thick and powerful. He had never loved a man before me. I had only loved Lily. Once she changed, I had little left to love; in fact, I was certain love had disappeared from my life all together.

The clock still hummed, never quiet; it's old and made noise as if time itself wanted us all to know that it was passing and with each minute Lily fell farther and farther into the darkness. The tears came then and at the same time Ned's cock pushed more firmly against my back. He grumbled, pulled me even tighter so that I could truly feel his penis--not hard, not entirely soft--on the edge of wanting. A tear fell and I gasped a little. Seeing the necklace; hearing the clock, feeling Ned's cock, his muscles, I fell away into him and closed my eyes.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I was," I replied softly.

"No you weren't," his voice was sleepy; distant and yet he knew things, he knew I was awake, thinking about my lost daughter.

"It's Father's Day," I answered, skipping over my lie. "Do you think she will come?" I felt him nod and nodded in return against my pillow. Another tear fell.

"Come closer," he whispered.

"How much closer could I get?"

"Closer," he said again, a growl, a grunt; there was the bull I knew.

His lips brushed on my neck, a hand on my thigh stroking, touching, pulling a sigh from my mouth. I wiped a hand across my face.

"I never get sick of touching you," he whispered wetly, his tongue tracing my ear.

Smiling, I turned in his big arms and I could feel my thoughts ease. Ned had that way about him. 'Magic arms' I called him because he had this way of holding me that made me feel completely safe and for one man to be able to do that for another was amazing.

I kissed him and was happy to discover his breath was not bad but sweet, the trace of his toothpaste before bed still there and I smiled even as I kissed him. Ned sighed gently, his cock fully hard now, urgent, pressing. I reached down and stroked him through his boxers; he was already wet. I tried to pull my tongue from his mouth but he only pulled me closer, deeper; at one point I was almost certain one of us was going to stop breathing.

He finally relented but only because I jokingly squeezed his balls a little too tightly.

"Fuck, you make me nuts," he grumbled, we both laughed at his joke.

His hand reached for my cock; I slept naked so there was no flimsy cotton between his rough hands and my skin.

"You like that?"

I nodded, I did like it, I'd thought I wouldn't ever be able to like sex again, or any intimacy after Lily disappeared.

His hands were rough but I relished his edges; he touched me as if he knew me and, after a year, I guess he kind of did.

"You want me to suck it?" His voice was hoarse with his question; there was still a shy embarrassment behind it, as if he couldn't really believe he was going to suck cock.

"What do you think?"

My response excited him. I could see it in his eyes, even in the dark; the fading moon told me just enough.

When you had a daughter like mine, you learned a lot from the moon.

Where to find Xavier Axelson:

http://www.facebook.com/xaviersaxel

http://www.twitter.com/xaviersaxel

http://www.examiner.com/la-in-los-angeles/francis-xavier

http://www.xavieraxelson.com

Rocks Off

2012-01-03T14:12:00.000-08:00

The inestimable Taylor V. Donovan asked me to stop by today to discuss orgasms, specifically the male experience of orgasms which (if our world is any indication) is different from female experience of same.

Any guy who knows his way around his willy tell you that climaxes can vary widely in intensity and pleasure from minute to minute. Getting off can feel as functional as blowing your nose, but it can also be cataclysmic and mind-bending. Context and content change everything! Thanks to Mother Nature, ejaculation feels good and the orgasm which usually accompanies it is never unwelcome. Endorphins feel good, yo. In fact, they are literally chemical enjoyment evinced by love, excitement, spicy food, love and the Big O.

Traditionally (and in most cases) men achieve climax by direct stimulation of the penis and women by direct stimulation of the clitoris. Okay, so that’s the majority. Anyone who has gotten a little more adventurous can attest that there are lots of ways to reach climax which don’t involve direct genital stimulation: less common yes, but the more powerful for their rarity. And let’s face it: while we can all grab a burger at McDonald’s, they are not the best or beefiest options.

In my experience, men tend to be a little more literal and straightforward about such things. It stands to reason: their primary reproductive tackle is on the outside so they tend to see great value in the external appurtenances of arousal and release. In males, orgasm usually accompanies ejaculation, but not always. And unless you’re talking about guys willing to push several envelopes, it’s a long haul from rubbing one out to hands-free fireworks. Can men get there? Sure. Will they? Depends on the guy, now doesn’t it?

Oh! And for the record, guys CAN have multiple orgasms, but by all accounts (and my own experience) they seem to be quite unlike female multiples. For one thing, ensuing ejaculations can become more strained and painful…subsequent orgasms more overwhelming and less pleasurable. The pleasurable return diminishes as energy (and jizz) gets expended, making the lucky shooter less relaxed and more drained, literally and figuratively.

What about orgasms in romance?

Male pleasure (in life and in fiction) is above all things a spectacle: tangible arousal, visible desire, palpable release. That makes sense: men CANNOT fake climax in the same way because their pleasure proves itself so their orgasms prove certain things to the other characters and their readers. Readers of romance like their heroes larger than life. For romance heroes, orgasms become the external observable proof of erotic fulfillment…the exclamation point on the sexual sentence. So of course, if you read a lot of romance fiction, male climax take on an elastic cornucopia quality: bigger, harder, wetter, longer. Factor in the exponential virility of your average M/M and the homo-gasms can get reDONKulous. Sometimes sultry, sometimes silly… and (as we all know) a fine line dividing the two.

For any male, the fireworks are more than just visible pleasure; during orgasm, an electrochemical tsunami and muscular quakes short-circuit the male anatomy. Yes there is (usually) gonna be a sticky spot generated, but there is also internal peak that gets scaled, not always in straight lines. That’s worth remembering both for writers creating fictional men and lovers bedding real ones. Men are more than spooge dispensers and the male climax can cover an extraordinarily complex landscape for folks who know what the hell they’re about. :)

Cookie cutter pop shots are a pornographic myth for men AND (I assume) women. The time and timing of orgasm changes the experience drastically and with a degree of finesse climax can be sculpted into something unforgettable. Different men seek, achieve, and experience climax very differently. As a man ages, sexual responses change; the volume of semen and duration of orgasm diminishes in all sexual activity. At the same time experience and exploration can radically change the quality and quantity of pleasure wrung from all kinds of intercourse.

Let me be the one to say it: people often claim that men think about only one thing. I’d change that to “PEOPLE think about only one thing and they call it by different names.” And while an inarticulate guy might tell you he just wants to “get off” you might ask yourself what he wants to “get off” of. We are not insects and our climaxes are as singular as anything else about us, regardless of gender or generalization. :) Love happens when we find the romance in the wet spot and the wet spot in the romance.

Note: Damon Suede’s book Hot Head is currently in the semifinals for Best Romance of 2011 over at Goodreads. It is the only M/M novel so nominated and is up against titles by Nora Roberts, J.R. Ward, Nalini Singh, and Gena Showalter. If you’d like to see a gay romance claim that spot please take a moment to give it your vote.

Books:

• Hot Headfrom Dreamspinner Press

• Grown Men from Riptide Publishing

~Damon Suede

Note: This blog has been re-posted from Chicks & Dicks

A Christmas Bonus by EM Lynley

2011-12-27T03:42:00.000-08:00

Throughout the week, between regular posts, I'll be highlighting different authors I really like.

This one is EM Lynley, and she has a new book out: A Christmas Bonus.

Here's the publisher link, and I'm sure you will find it on all web sites were e-books are sold.

Here's the synopsis:

Alec Compton's dream job at a Wall Street investment firm is on the line if he can't close a make-or-break takeover deal by the end of the year.

The buyer is none other than world-renowned billionaire and corporate raider Brant Linton, recently named one of the hottest and most eligible gay businessmen. Electricity crackles at their first meeting, and Alec's thoughts drift far from business, despite his distaste for Brant's business practices.

When Brant takes off early to spend Christmas with his sister's family on the exclusive French Polynesian island of Taha'a, Alec has no choice but to follow if he wants to get Brant to sign on the dotted line. But Brant's sister has forbidden him from conducting business during the holidays and Alec must masquerade as Brant's boyfriend.

Then business turns into pleasure, but neither Brant nor Alec know whether the other is there for the deal, or for something more personal in EM Lynley's sizzling holiday novella A CHRISTMAS BONUS.

by Ryan Field

Re-posted from Ryan's blog from Dec 19th
http://ryan-field.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-bonus-by-em-lynley.html

Dreaming of a H-O-T Christmas

2011-12-12T03:49:00.000-08:00

Is your holiday season filled with snow? Sun? How about H-O-T men?

This time of year all I can think about is Christmas. Presents, food, family. All the traditions that make the season wonderful. This is true whether I’m in the warm climate of paradise (where I live now) or the cold temperatures of the Lone Star state (where I’m from and where I’ll be heading soon).

Last year, I started a new tradition – participating in Silver Publishing’s 25 Days of Christmas. Each day in December until Christmas, a new short story is released.

This year, I’m pretty sure my story puts me on Santa’s naughty list.

My story is called SECRET SANTA and tells the story of Santa and a Marine!

Martin's gig accepting presents for the annual Marine gift-giving drive becomes less mundane when a new Santa arrives at the department store. This year, Martin will experience Christmas as he never has before--and find out if Santa is real.

To find out if he is, you can buy SECRET SANTA here: Buy Secret Santa HERE!

Not enough heat for Christmas? Then try out the audio version of my Christmas story from last year!

FOR THE LOVE OF SCROOGE is available here as an eBook and now as an audio book:

Buy For the Love of Scrooge HERE!

I hope these stories will keep you warm for Christmas. Cuddle up with my boys and enjoy!

~Rebecca Leigh

http://blog.rebeccaleighromance.com/?zx=3de3f1398731c6f6

How Can a Box and a Basket Screw Up the Entire Book?

2011-12-05T04:17:00.001-08:00

I wish there were a way to scream "thank you" to my managing editor at Loveyoudivine.com, Dalia. Once again, she saved the day. I found an error before a THE COMPUTER TUTOR went to print and it really bothered me. This holiday novella/story is my first attempt at writing "new adult" fiction. It's a new genre you don't hear about often, and I'm liking the freedom it gives me. The release date is December 9th. Here's a link: http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=3&products_id=898&zenid=1994737b4787575c9aacac5618988fd8

Last night, while going over the final draft of THE COMPUTER TUTOR, I discovered a mistake. It was just one word, and it could have been ignored, but I figured that if it bothered me it's going to bother other readers. And, this is what editing is all about.

The word was "basket." It needed to be changed to "box." If you look at the book cover for THE COMPUTER TUTOR, you'll see there is a "box" of puppies, not a "basket" of puppies. "Basket" was in the book, not "box." Both words would have worked within the context of the story. But it bothered me that the cover didn't go with the story. And I like the word "box" more than "basket," even though I originally wrote it as "basket." I think a guy would use a box faster than a basket.

So I e-mailed Dalia late last night and waited to hear if it could be fixed. I've seen this happen before with all publishers, even NY publishers, where the book cover doesn't always coincide with the story. It's not the biggest thing in the world, I wouldn't classify it as coverfail, but those little details can really freak me out. I also know they can freak readers out.

Thankfully, Dalia was able to change "basket" to "box" and all is well. The reason I didn't catch it sooner is because when you're in the editing process you're busy working on tightening sentences, revising paragraphs, and a multitude of things most people wouldn't even consider while they are reading a book. Most readers only care about the story and whether or not it appeals to them. But there is a lot of work that goes into the writing aspects, and even the slightest mistake can bother a writer for years.

Ryan Field
Romance Author
www.ryan-field.blogspot.com
rfieldj@aol.com

Also Starring... and Walk-On Parts.

2011-11-28T03:02:00.000-08:00

aka Secondary Characters.

People rarely live in a vacuum. Even the prisoner in solitary has the guards in his or her world. In the wider world, those we have as friends and family helps to define our own place in it. So for me the people around my heroes are as important as the two guys themselves, be they family, friends, ex-lovers, work colleagues, opponents, rivals, or just the little old lady who is helped across the road. Show Not Tell is engraved in poker-work on the surface of my brain, and while I don't always manage to follow its advice, secondary characters are one of the major weapons in that arsenal. Whether I'm writing in the 1st person, or a tightly focused 3rd person, how my hero feels about and reacts to these people tells the reader a lot about the kind of person the hero is.

But, and it's a big but, the secondary characters mustn't overwhelm the leads, and that is a difficult line to walk. What I, as the writer, think is a good balance between the leads and the also starring, isn't always the same to the reader. Some readers prefer the concentration to be solely on the leading characters and have no time or inclination for the 'cast of thousands' approach. That's no reason for me to avoid attempting to create believable multi-dimensional characters, even if I'm not intending to write a series based in a particular universe, following the lives of the various people introduced in the original book.

Of course, the also starring doesn't have to be human - or sentient alien *g*. In my recent release, Game On, Game Over, TBC [aka That Bloody Cat] played a significant role in the latter part of the story. In my latest release, Home and Heart, Golden Retriever Bracken and Curly Coated Retriever Teazle, had walk-on parts. Here the trick was to avoid over-sentimentality that can go against the run of the story [TBC is an amalgam of various cats I have known, while Bracken and Teazle were and are members of my family].

Another variety of secondary character can be a place. Stokesay Castle in the Welsh Marches is a wonderful example of a fortified manor house, and made the ideal basis for the Fitzwarrens' albatross of a ruin in The Fitzwarren Inheritance trilogy. Certain TV series have excelled at these kind of co-stars - Star Trek's USS Enterprise, Starsky & Hutch - Starsky's Ford Torino, Supernatural - Dean Winchester's '67 Chevrolet Impala, and I could make a case for MacLeod's barge moored on the Seine in Highlander: The Series. Does that seem silly? Think about how James T Kirk feels about the Enterprise and all the lives held within her. And Dean's loyalty to the Impala, given to him by his father and probably the only true home he and his brother have had for most of their lives. Important character points there, for both men.

~~~ Chris Quinton ~ Gay Fiction Across Genres ~~~
My website is here and I'm on FaceBook here - Manifold Press is here
Silver Publishing is here - GLBT Bookshelf Wiki is here

Love Means... Healing

2011-11-21T11:50:00.000-08:00

I have received more notes from readers asking me to tell Len and Chris’s story than I have on any other topic. After releasing Love Means…No Fear, the notes started and didn’t stop. I tried for a while to come up with a story and decided that there simply wasn’t enough there for a full novel, so instead I wrote Love Means… Healing. This is Len and Chris’s story and it takes place between the end and the epilogue of Love Means… No Shame. I really wanted this story to explain how Len allowed himself to find love again and to heal from Cliff’s death. What I got as I started to write was a story about how both Len and Chris help each other to heal form very different wounds. I really hope you like it.

~Andrew Grey

http://www.andrewgreybooks.com/

Blurb

Seven months ago, Len Parker lost his partner of more than twenty years, and he isn’t sure how to feel about his blossoming attraction to Chris, one of his farmhands. Hesitant and still hurt, Len remains aloof and distant until he’s goaded into teaching Chris to ride.

Fresh out of a thirty-year career with the Marines, Chris can explore his sexuality openly for the first time in his life, but what he needs more than anything is peace. He’s convinced Len doesn’t like him until he digs a little deeper, and then, armed with hope, Chris sets out to prove that love can provide the healing he and Len so desperately need.

Excerpt

“Couldn’t sleep, so I got up and went for a ride,” Len answered and went right back to work. He really didn’t want to talk about it, and Len knew Geoff would understand. The clomping of horse’s hooves on the concrete told him Geoff had moved on, and Len continued filling the wheelbarrow before wheeling the mess to the mulch pile. On his way back, he passed Eli walking his horse out into the yard.

“Morning, Len,” Geoff’s partner of six months called with a bright smile on his face.

“Morning, Eli,” Len answered with more energy than he felt. “Do you have a class this morning?”

“At ten. I have most everything ready,” Eli answered before mounting. Len pulled off his cap and waved it at the two of them as they started their ride. He saw them both wave back and heard the conversation and laughter fade as they got farther away. Placing his hat back on his head, he went back to work. As he finished the stall, Len heard tires crunch on the gravel drive outside, followed by the sound of truck doors closing and then footsteps on the gravel and into the barn. The tractor started with a deep rumble in the equipment shed.

“Morning, Len,” Lumpy called from the doorway of the tack room, the list of tasks in his hand. “Pete’s gonna get those last hayfields roll-baled before it rains. Where do you want us to put them when we’re done? You said yesterday that we didn’t need it.”

“You can leave it in the fields. The Hansens are going to take it all. They enlarged their dairy herd, and he said he’d be happy to take whatever we have. I’ll call and tell him he can start picking up the bales in a few hours,” Len said, and he saw a curious look on Lumpy’s face, like he wanted to ask something, but wasn’t sure if he should.

“I’ll tell Pete and then get on the list.” Lumpy looked the sheet over. “I’m gonna start with those fences, and I’ll let you know if I find anything that needs fixing. See you this afternoon,” Lumpy added before walking out of the barn and getting to work. Len climbed the stairs to the full hayloft and opened the only trap door that wasn’t covered by hay. Lifting a bale, he dropped it through the door to the barn floor below.

“Len, I can get that for you,” a voice behind him said, making him jump. Len landed near the edge of the door and nearly lost his balance. Big hands caught his arm, pulling him back from the brink and against a hard, firm body before both of them fell against the stacked bales of hay, with Len caught between the hay and Chris, the hand Geoff had hired a few weeks earlier. The scent of fresh hay mixed with the smell of soap and man, and for a second Len remembered what it felt like to be held and went with it until his thoughts cleared.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Len said, pulling away before storming toward the stairs.

“It was an accident. Christ, I only came up to help. There’s no need to take my head off!” Chris retorted louder than was needed, and Len heard the whap and thump as a bale was flung to the floor below. Len descended the stairs in a huff. He wasn’t angry with Chris, not really. It was his reaction whenever he got close to the man that kept throwing him.

At the bottom of the stairs, Len stopped. He could hear Chris moving around, heavy footsteps stomping on the loft floor, the thump of the bales as they fell with more force than necessary, but more than anything he could see the man’s chiseled face and bright, intelligent eyes, which looked as though they’d seen things Len could never understand. Chris also had a body that had seen hard physical work for years. Chris appeared to be nearing fifty, the way Len was, but Chris didn’t look like any other fifty-year-old Len had ever seen. Not that it mattered. Len was not going to find out if the muscles beneath Chris’s flannel shirt were as large as they looked, or if that glimpse of dark hair that sometimes peeked over the top of his shirt extended further. That was not going to happen. Len pushed the images out of his mind as he stomped out of the barn toward the house, figuring he might as well make breakfast. It would give him something to do, and everyone would be hungry in an hour or so.

Men of Riverside

2011-11-14T04:18:00.001-08:00

This month, on November 21, Convincing Landon (Men of Riverside, #7) will be released at Total-E-Bound.

The series has been a total joy to write, even though it got a little complicated at times. Having eight books that are interconnected to the degree the volumes in Men of Riverside are, has been an interesting challenge. Not only are a lot of characters involved, but the timeline goes as far back as twenty years, and ‘current events’ of the series itself stretch over three years. So, planning has been a big part of this.

But the most important part, for me, at least, in any writing adventure, is finding out more about the characters. Quite often they come to me from dreams, but sometimes I get to see just a part of a person, then have to find out more about them as I write. It is just like getting to know someone in ‘real life’, in many ways, and can be just as surprising.

Like with any series, I am sad to see it end. Well, end for now. Men of Riverside 8 is already written (Helping Harry) and will be released in January. I have a feeling I will return to the series in the future, so you never know.

For now, I hope you enjoy Convincing Landon, in which both Landon and Kendall will need a lot of convincing before they finally admit that they were meant ot be together. In the tradition of the series:

For those who never give up hope that luck, determination and love may bring separated lovers back together for the happy ending we all crave.

Enjoy!

Yours,

Serena

www.serenayates.com

Blurb:
Afraid of being openly gay, Landon rejected Kendall after a brief affair. Will they be able to make a fresh start when chance reunites them years later?
Landon Tully is a social worker who only returned to Riverside for his father’s funeral. But when a job opportunity opens up, he decides to stay for a while. Within days he runs into Kendall Gable, the man he’d thought was too young for him eight years ago – only now Kendall is all grown up and on the opposite side of a bidding contest for the land Landon has been asked to obtain to build a homeless shelter.
Kendall has made a life for himself as an architect. Focusing on work has helped him fill the hole in his life that Landon left behind. Running into him is painful, but helps him realise some of the issues in his professional life need fixing.
Will Kendall be able to convince himself, and Landon, that they deserve a life together after all?

Buy Link:
http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1437

Why I’m Writing M/M by Silvia Violet

2011-11-07T04:42:00.000-08:00

I’ve been reading m/m romance for years. One of my first publications was an m/m/f where the initial relationship was between the two men. I’ve written plenty of m/m/f since, but until this spring I’d never written an m/m book. So why the change?

I’ve been reading a lot more m/m in the last few years so that may have influenced my muse. I also tried my hand at first person in an m/f story and realized how much I love being in deep male POV. I had so much fun getting into the thoughts of my male character that I decided to write another book in this series. I started outlining, and my hero laughed at me as I tried pair him with a female vampire. He couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured out that he was gay. And thus my first m/m, Sex on the Hoof was born. I’ve since published three more m/m stories and have three more under contract and many more in various stages of writing.

Along with enjoying writing from the male perspective, I think my muse is heading in a new direction because I love to be challenged by what I’m writing. Love it or not, writing solely from a male POV is challenging. I have to remember that in general men use different speech patterns from women and a man would likely approach a budding relationship differently than I would. Then there’s the challenge of thinking like a man without falling into male stereotypes. My recent writing has forced me to consider issues about gender and sexuality from new vantage points. I’m being challenged creatively and intellectually.

For several of my stories, I’ve created sci fi or paranormal settings in which sexual orientation is not an issue. I love making up worlds in which the relationship is a challenge in itself without the burden of prejudice or the need to hide. Wouldn’t it be nice if we lived in such a place? Writing m/m lets me live in this pleasant fantasy world for awhile.

My most recent m/m release is Paws on Me, I fell in love with my hardass cop, Seth, and Brandon, the fun-loving bear shifter who captures his heart. I hope you will love them too.

Protect and Serve: Paws on Me by Silvia Violet

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1705

Blurb:

Lieutenant Seth Morrison loves being a cop, but with budget cuts and crime both on the rise, he’s stopped making time for anything but his job.

On the outside, Brandon Lord is an easy-going, flirtatious club owner. On the inside he’s a man trying to overcome a difficult past.

When a murder investigation brings the two men together, passion roars to life. They’re both willing to break the rules to be together. Because as mismatched as they might seem, each man is exactly what the other needs.

Excerpt:

I’m Seth Morrison. I’m a cop, a police lieutenant to be precise. I’ve been on the force more years than I want to think about. I’ve seen good men get killed, turn dirty, lose themselves in the bottle, lose their fucking minds, but I’m still here doing what I do. I don’t know any other life. People tell me I need a break, a vacation, to relax. I don’t want to fucking relax. I just want to do my job and keep this city from falling apart.

I park my car, grab my coffee from the cup holder, and charge up the front steps of the station. I could take the side door, it’s closer to my office, but I love the chaos of the bullpen. When I open the door, I breathe deeply, enjoying the variety of smells: coffee that’s been on the warmer far too long, the sickeningly sweet smell of candy and doughnuts, pine-scented cleaner from the scrubbing the janitors gave the floors last night, and something unnamable that simply smells like cops and hard work. I shake my head as I try to imagine not being here nearly 24/7. This is where I belong.

My stomach rumbles. I should’ve had dinner, but after pretending an afternoon nap was a night’s sleep, I’m running late. I’ll grab something from the vending machine while I dream about a juicy burger and thick home fries. It sure would be nice to have someone cook for me. I don’t seem to get along with stoves. Years ago, I tried being married. That worked for about 30 seconds. My wife wanted me to work shorter hours. I wanted her to talk less, or maybe never.

Friends tell me I should make an effort to date, but I’m more comfortable at a gruesome homicide scene than making small talk at dinner with a woman or a man. Yeah, I like both. I stopped going out with men when I entered the academy. I just couldn’t deal with the shit the guys would give me. Now, I don’t advertise what I like, but I pick up a guy now and then. I’m discreet, but if somebody finds out, I’ll deal.

One-night stands I can handle, but relationships are beyond me. People think police work is draining, but I’d rather spend all day in the field and all night at my desk filling out fucking paperwork — and often I do — than try to decode relationship signals. I inevitably screw things up and never understand why.

Sex I need. Romance I don’t.

My phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket hoping the call will save me from the mountain of paperwork on my desk. It’s Drew Danvers, detective and vampire. That’s right, a vampire who works for the good guys. We’ve got a werewolf in homicide too. And he’s a damn fine cop.

I remember when the shifters came out of the closet, scaring the hell out of us humans. One by one other monsters made themselves known. Most people assumed they were all assholes who wanted to eat us, but I quickly learned not to judge a man because he sucked blood or turned into a wolf. I judge men based on how they treat others.

I answer the call. “What’s up, Detective?”

“Two dead werewolves found in a closet at Shift. Hacked up pretty bad. The scene’s a circus. Jenkins called in sick. I’m on my own, and –”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“No problem. Murder scene or paperwork, which would you choose?”

* * *

I step inside the club. A crime lab team is there and several uniformed officers are talking with employees. I spot Drew in the entryway of an office. He’s frowning as he questions a tall hairy hunk of a man. I’ve seen this man around the area several times, and just like every other time, he makes my cock sit up and take notice.

Our most recent encounter was a week ago. When I want to grab a beer and be left the fuck alone, I go to Mitch’s, a dive just down the street from Shift. Last time I spent the evening there, he sat next to me at the bar and came on strong. I was in a shitty mood. I wanted him, and it pissed me off. He’s not my type. He’s young, hip, and outrageously flirtatious. I walked away, but I regretted it later that night when I couldn’t stop fantasizing about him.

The man looks my way and catches me staring. His grin says he knows the direction my thoughts are going. Fucking bastard winks at me. Drew scowls.

I turn to face him. He grins down at me, that same cocky-as-fuck little smile he’d given me earlier, making me even more aware of how close we are and how big he is. At 6’2″, I’m hardly small, but he’s got several inches on me. And while I’ve got a rather thick pelt, the fur visible above the vee of his t-shirt is astounding.

He smiles mischievously. “You gonna cuff me if you take me in?”

“Impeding a murder investigation will get you thrown in jail.”

He rolls his eyes. “I found two dead guys in my closet when I came to work tonight. My business is shut down, and I’ll be losing money every minute that you’re here. But at least I have a sense of humor.”

“Well, I don’t.”

He shakes his head. “Are you taken too?”

I take another step back. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

I look over at Drew and realize he and Jason are grinning like loons. Fuck. All I need is the two of them ragging me.

I glare at Drew. “Detective, do you think you can question this man without killing him?”

“Probably.”

“Fine. Fleetfoot, head back to the lab. Take my car. I’ll get a ride with Danvers.” I throw him my keys, and he snatches them out of the air as he gives Drew’s hand a final squeeze. Jason is better in the lab than any tech we have. We only send him into the field when we’re desperately short-handed. I run a hand through my hair, wishing I knew how I’m going to hold the homicide division together if we don’t get more funds.

He holds out his hand. “I’m Brandon Lord. I own Shift.”

“Lieutenant Morrison.” I shake his hand. His skin is surprisingly smooth, his grip tight and warm. I want to feel those big hands running over me. I want to rub his furry body with my own. Fuck! I should assign someone else to this case right now and get the hell away from him. But some crazy restlessness he’s dredged up in me makes me fight my instincts.

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.” His voice is low and rich. And his grin lets me know he’s well aware of my body’s reaction to him.

I need to get away. His smell alone is making me hard. “I’m not here to play games. Drop the act and treat this case seriously, or I’ll find an excuse to throw your ass in jail.”

He grins. Fuck, he knows he’s got me rattled. “I’d never kill anyone, Lieutenant. I’m just a cuddly teddy bear.”

The bear shifter and the bear. Ridiculous. I need to leave now. This man is no cuddly toy. I don’t think he’s our murderer, but he’s far smarter than he wants me to believe and likely far more dangerous. “I know what cuddling leads to.”

Brandon laughs, a deep, infectious sound. I can’t help but respond. Now I want him more than ever. Taking this case was a supremely stupid idea, staying on it now is unprofessional.

But I won’t walk away.

Buy link: http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1705

by Silvia Violet

A Writer and her Characters

2011-10-31T03:28:00.000-07:00

As far back as I can remember, I have had an ongoing relationship with a few of my characters. Ones derived from my imagination, from the time I was a young adult, possibly before then. It wasn’t that I didn’t have plenty of friends or suffered from a social anxiety disorder, I just had a very active imagination and I needed more to fulfill my idle time, I guess. I can remember playing with my Barbies, and I’m not talking just a few at a time. I’m talking a whole room full of them and all their accessories, including the cars, the horses, the pets, all of it. And my goodness, I created a whole world with them. I was busy for weeks on the same storyline and I think I started that when I was five or six. I had a huge collection that I saved and passed on to my own daughter, and she to hers, not that I ever witnessed her getting into their lives the way I did. Anyway, as time went on, and I got too old to sport the Barbies, the stories in my head continued to grow and my characters were anything but Barbies. These characters became entities in their own right. They all look different, they act different, and they talk different. Yet, they are all a part of me. Making me a very diverse individual with an amazing imagination. A very visual one at that. How awesome is it to allow one’s mind to just float and see these characters living and talking and doing life. If it hasn’t happened to you, all I can say is that it’s amazing. It’s almost as if you take a trip to another time, place, or, maybe, are watching a movie.

Now, sure, a writer will introduce dozens of characters to their readers, and each of them, all hold a special place in their creators’ hearts. They are all loved or disliked according to their actions by the creator. However, the one thing that simply flabbergasts me is how a certain few characters are born and how they attach themselves to their creator and not for just a little while. These characters become a part of the writer and remain with them for a lifetime. What intrigues me is this: a writer brings their character to the table and a story is born. The writer gives that character or characters the free rein to tell their tale, the writer being more or less the reporter of the events they see taking place within their minds. The characters take over and the story is being jotted down, word after word, page after page, and chapter after chapter, and the writer is doing all they can to keep up with what they see. And hoping they are doing the characters justice. Before they know it, they have a full novel sitting there on the screen before them, or in notebooks scattered about the room and labeled one, two, three…etc. No time for a title on each, though, all there’s time for is getting those scenes you’re seeing in your head out of it, giving your characters life. I know it to be true because I’ve done it. I have well used notebooks in boxes and under my bed. I have documents saved all over the place. And in all of them, are my creations. My characters just waiting for me and my attention. Waiting for their turn for their story to be told. Now, as I conquer a story, the characters in them become quiet as their story has been told; however, there are some who never quiet. There are some who become so real and so vibrant that I swear I am more than just one person. My characters are alive within me, and they have worth. They are a part of me. Now, please don’t take me wrong, I’m not suffering from a multiple personality disorder, or maybe I am, but I am able to distinguish real life from the fantasy life that I get lost in on a day to day basis along with my characters.

And this leads me to an interesting topic that came up between me and my other half. He said, “I swear there are some days I have married Sybil’s sister.” I looked at him, with what was probably a blank expression, and asked what he meant. Calmly he said, “Well, there are some days when I come in from work and you’re happy and smiling and joking around, and there are other days when I come in and you’re upset and angry and in a very serious mood.” I nodded at him and looked away and grinned. He stood there for a bit, and sauntered off, figuring he’d get no response. Now, I could have taken that with a shake of salt and continued on with what I was doing. I could have dismissed it as being a “woman.” But I didn’t. Because each time he noticed a change in my personality, it was when I was working with a certain group of characters. I had to sit down and I had to think. Was I suffering from a disorder or were my characters that strong. I attributed it to both. Really. And this is why. I am obsessed with my characters, with a handful of them anyway. I mean, they all mean something to me, but it’s just with this certain group that I feel as if I’m a fierce lioness protecting her cubs from danger. That’s not to say they don’t find danger on their own, in their own world, but I’m here in this one protecting them and guiding them as best as I can to help them tell their story for the first time. These certain characters have helped me through some difficult times in my life. They are a source of comfort to me. I refer to them when I need them. And yes, at the risk of maybe sounding a little crazy, I will sometimes say: What would…..do? And I sat some more and thought harder. And I wondered then, when he came in and pulled me out of the story as he so often does, much to my disapproval, what character I was writing for. When I write for them, I feel them and all their emotions to go along with them.

So, I went in search of him days later and I said, “When you got home today was I happy or angry?” He looked at me, his big blue eyes wide, and he said I was angry. I thought a bit and read over what I was writing and it hit me. I was writing for one of my Behind Blue Eyes characters. Torro. He was in the midst of an intense scene with his brother, with my all-time favorite character. TJ. (I’ll be doing a blog on TJ very soon.) So, getting back to where I was going, I get so vested in the characters’ lives that I actually take on what they’re feeling and sometimes, if I’m pulled out of the scene, that certain emotion, feeling, or ? comes with me. He disturbed me as I was focused in on Torro’s (many of you met him in Tony & Ryan and briefly in Caged and will soon see a bit more of him in Carl/Lucca’s story) POV, he dragged me out of that scene and the anger followed. Torro is an aggressive, torn soul in Behind Blue Eyes and that is who I was at that particular time. To date, he has met my comedian and TJ’s main supporter, best friend, and future lover, Benny. He’s met Torro on several occasions. He’s met TJ countless times, and he says he sees the difference in me with every different character I write for. I think he prefers Benny.

Interesting. I shrugged my shoulders and warned him as I smiled very sweetly at him. “Better watch how you act with me, you never know who you’ll come home to.” He looked at me, a bit of fear laced in his eyes, and he walked away mumbling something about Sybil.

So, I guess my question is, now, to the other writers out there. Do your characters manifest themselves in your lives? Has anyone in your life noticed and what do they say about it? And BTW: I am able to turn them off when I watch TV. So I don’t. Haha!

~Michele L. Montgomery

an erotic romance writer hooked on M/M

2011-10-24T13:23:00.000-07:00

Somewhere along the line, as an erotic romance writer, I got hooked on writing M/M. Since then, writing in this genre has is where my creative flow has channeled. And then, since creativity is a live process and ever-evolving, my writing began to find what feels like its natural seat (for now) in more yaoi-inspired M/M, both contemporary and historical. I would say that a great inspiration for me has been the famous series Kizuna: Bonds of Love by Kazuma Kodaka that really inspired me. I admit I haven’t read much yaoi – barely any – and don’t claim to be an expert in exactly what distinguishes yaoi from other M/M erotic romances. The differences to me are subtle and are something that I feel intuitively as I write. It’s not like I’ve taken the definitions that I’ve read and applied them to my writing. However, when I look over the range of M/M books I’ve written, I can definitely take some of them and fit them into what could be categorized as “yaoi” as opposed to M/M.

The other thing that distinguishes it for me is the artwork. For whatever reason, certain stories fit the manga style artwork that is an integral part of the yaoi genre. For that, I have had THE great fortune of meeting an incredible manga artist, Yuramei, whose incredible yaoi series Big Deal, as a team with author Tabatha Katsura Thorn, I will be publishing very soon through Ai Press. However, I have also been lucky enough to have Yuramei do some artwork for my own pieces and really bring the characters to life the way I’d envisioned them when I wrote the stories. She has done the cover for Flying Fish as you’ll see below and is at work on my soon-to-be released contemporary piece, Soy Sauce Face. (Excerpts from both included here.)

All that said, when it comes down to is that certain stories, the characters and the tales they tell, flow from me. They tell me what they want to say and I write it down. All I can say is write it down and offer it up, hoping that you’ll enjoy reading the stories as much as I have enjoyed writing them. Thanks for your support!

Warmly, Sedonia

Currently available at Ai Press (www.ai-press.net) :

Read excerpts below:

In eighteenth century Japan, during the golden age of samurai and of the Kabuki theater, young actors known as “flying fish” traveled the countryside, performing for audiences by day and giving their bodies to their samurai patrons at night.

Genji Sakura is one such flying fish, yet he dreams of the day he’ll find the man he can give his heart to and leave the loneliness of his itinerant life behind. Though he loves theater, he doesn’t love every part of his profession, especially some of the patrons. So when a handsome ronin, or masterless samurai, comes upon him stealing some solitude for a bath in a hot spring and their encounter turns passionate and profoundly erotic, Genji’s surprised and delighted.

Daisuke Minamoto’s past fills his life with a bitterness that grips his soul and makes him dangerous. Yet his passion takes him when he spies on a graceful young man bathing naked in a hot spring. He has always loved women but he can’t deny the call of his heart or his baser interests.

After an afternoon of sexual bliss, his heart and soul are tormented and torn. Keeping this miraculous lover will require giving up the one thing that has kept him alive for years: his hatred for the lord who murdered his wife. If he loves another, how will he go on and who will he become?

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices. This book was previously published and re-released with Ai Press.

Cover art: Yuramei

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Kai Province, Edo Period, Japan

During the Tokugawa Shogunate

Ah, finally, the hot spring! A sunny summer afternoon to himself to enjoy a soak and not another soul in sight with whom he’d be forced to share. Who’d have thought such an oasis of luxury awaited a lowly travelling Kabuki actor, a flying fish who jumped from town to town with his troupe, entertaining merchants, peasants, and samurai? Unimaginable. Except that it had happened. And might not last long.

Genji stared a moment into the placid water of the small pond. Steam rose invitingly from its surface. Even the twittering birds in the trees surrounding the small enclave of rocks around the pool seemed to be ordering him in quickly. A hot spring like this would probably not remain undiscovered for long. Once he went back to the troupe’s quarters, only the Buddha might know when he’d have this chance again at solitude.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Genji pulled open the sash of his kimono and let the article slip right to the rock below his feet. On top of that, he dropped the small knife he carried, which when sheathed appeared to be a woman’s fan. A mistake probably, leaving it there, considering there were bandits in the countryside who could assail a lone person. But the essence of time made him throw caution aside.

He stepped out of his wooden sandals, not bothering to make a neatly folded pile of his clothes. The tie in his hair also landed on the pile, as he fully intended to wash his hair in this hot water. Another luxury he couldn’t have dreamed of before this moment. Now he was naked, having already daringly left off the loincloth before parting from his quarters in the village. Who wanted to spare the valuable time to unwrap it in the instance that he found the legendary hot spring spoken of by the innkeeper?

He covered his knife with the folds of the kimono, left within his reach, then stepped into the water. And immediately smiled. Delicious already and the water had only submerged him just past the ankle.

Anchoring his weight on one rock, he lowered himself in to his upper chest. Mmm, more luxurious heat penetrated his skin. The perfect relaxation. Bending forward, he soaked his long hair, then yanked his head back and scrubbed his scalp with eager fingertips. It wasn’t the same as having someone else do it for him, but it made his eyes close with pleasure all the same. Dipping down again, he rinsed his hair until he felt certain all the dust of the road had washed away, leaving the long, ebony strands gleaming.

He squeezed the excess water from the length of his hair then found a spot to sit and recline, where a rock jutted out into a natural ledge underneath the water. The sun warmed his face, and the water warmed his body. Warmth filled him. Made his soul as warm as his body. In moments like these, he could forget for a little while. Forget his childhood memories of the anguished cries of women and children as they all were forced from their homes in the aftermath of their lord’s defeat and herded onto the platforms to be sold. The sun made a reddish glow of the darkness behind his closed eyelids, a starburst of light that blocked out even the worst of his childhood visions.

A breeze passed over, blowing cool on his damp skin, rustling the leaves of the bushes and trees surrounding the tiny pool. However, when the breeze died down, the rustling of the leaves continued. Heavier, with the crunch of tiny twigs under the weight of something on top of them.

Genji’s eyes shot open. Sunlight flooded them, blinding him for a moment. All the nerve endings along his skin crackled to life. He strained to hear, and his body tensed, ready to spring from the water for his knife an arm’s length away.

Another crackle of twigs.

He sat bolt upright. “Who’s there?” he growled.

Silence.

Genji might have thought it was an animal in the brush, but his inner voice told him otherwise. It whispered to him that he shared this tiny oasis with another human being. Someone who’d been spying on him, watching him wash his hair.

Genji leaned over, slipped his hand within the folds of his kimono and wrapped a hand around the hilt of his tanto, a gift from a high-ranking samurai, one who had patronized Genji’s talents in the past, both on and off the stage. “Answer me,” Genji said, his voice tight. Years of acting had taught him how to infuse his tone with whatever emotion was needed for effect. In this instance, he sought for threatening. “I’m armed. I know how to use this knife.” Indeed, he could follow his threat with action. That same samurai had taught him some basic swordsmanship, in between sessions of intense lovemaking.

Silence still answered him, yet the sense of another human presence remained.

Genji slid the tanto from its scabbard.

“If you don’t show yourself on the count of three,” Genji went on, gaze trained on the rocks that hid part of the brush, “I will climb from this pool, seek you out, and gut you. Don’t think I won’t do it.” Though slim and narrow in build, with finely etched muscle and not the brawn of a highly-trained samurai or laborer, Genji had speed and agility. As a dancer, he’d found the principles of movement were the same.

“Relax, peasant,” a voice said suddenly from behind the brush. “I’m obeying your order.”

Genji’s insides jumped. The voice, deep and male, held a hint of mockery tinged with admiration. Though the owner of the voice hadn’t threatened his safety, Genji continued to hold his knife at the ready, should the stranger indeed mean him harm.

The leaves and branches of the brush rustled and snapped, and within seconds, a figure emerged. He came to a stop at the edge of the rocks.

Genji stared, blinking, not so much because the glare of the sun made a halo of blinding light around the stranger’s broad figure, but because when the man moved so as to block the sun from Genji’s eyes, the vision before Genji was that of a wild warrior.

Darkness. The word rose in Genji’s mind as the stranger moved a few steps closer. Dark eyes, swarthy skin, jaw and cheeks covered with more than a few days’ growth. And though his abundant black hair was pulled back, much of it had escaped its tie and rioted about his rugged face.

The man, obviously a samurai of some sort, would have been handsomely imposing had his clothing not been ragged and desperately in need of washing, even his rope sandals, though Genji felt certain that the blades of his weaponry, long sword, short, and knife, were polished to perfection within their woven scabbards. The hands that handled those weapons were large, fingers thick, and his legs in their gaiters below the hem of his kimono, also thick, muscled limbs of coiled strength.

Genji’s tanto and his limited ability to use it were a mere joke in the face of this obviously skilled warrior, however ragged and dirty his state. His fear must have shown, for the stranger gave him a sudden lopsided grin and began to untie his belt, lowering his weapons to the rocks.

“I apologize for coming upon you the way I did, like a sneak thief,” the samurai said. His hands went to the tie of his kimono and worked it open. “I thought you were a woman when I saw you from a distance, washing that hair.”

Genji exhaled a tiny bit. But only a bit. He set his tanto onto the rock behind him, an excuse to avert his gaze from the thickly muscled torso being revealed. For some reason, the man’s growing nakedness made Genji feel testy. “So you would have continued to spy on me, taking advantage of my undress had you not seen I’m a man?”

The samurai didn’t answer though his dark gaze shifted away from Genji in a way that appeared guilty. He removed his gaiters, unwrapped his loincloth, dropping everything on top of his other ragged clothing, and Genji got an eyeful of the samurai’s musuko. Even in its softened state, the member hinted at delicious thickness when erect. The sac beneath it was equally abundant-looking, heavy and full.

The samurai leaned down, turning halfway as he began to lower himself into the water. His meaty leg and ass muscles flexed as he climbed down into the pool and settled on the other side. Genji didn’t know if there was a rock ledge to sit on over there, but he didn’t offer the space beside him in spite of this warrior’s handsome appearance. He entertained enough samurai already, nearly every evening after the day’s performances. His life was not his own, and it was a blessing for him that he loved the theater, otherwise he would have gone mad and committed hara-kiri long ago with his own knife.

Without meaning to, Genji caught a glance of the way the waterline lapped at the samurai’s chest and gleamed on the golden hue of his skin, just beneath the large dark rounds of his nipples.

“To answer your question,” the samurai said finally, “yes, I would have continued to spy on you, as crude as that may be.”

Genji blinked again, struck at the man’s honesty. That, at least, was refreshing. Not all samurai were as noble as their warrior’s code demanded they be.

“Even after you first spoke,” the samurai went on, “I wasn’t sure of your sex. Your voice is soft and gentle even though you tried to sound fierce. It took many moments of debating whether to show myself. Only when you turned around and I saw your male chest, I knew I could come out without making you scream.”

Genji continued studying him as he spoke. The samurai’s voice was deep, each word saturated with emotions. The explanation made some of Genji’s apprehension ebb, and he nodded. “I see.”

The samurai cupped some water and splashed his face. Shiny droplets clung to the heavy dark stubble on his cheeks and jaw. “You must be a boy, then, by your smooth appearance.”

“No.” Genji lifted his chin. “I’m in my twenty-fifth year.” Truthfully, he’d not been a boy since his family’s expulsion from the castle into dire poverty, a violence that had ripped him from childhood and thrown him into the constant struggle for survival.

His bathing companion looked doubtful for a moment but then nodded and continued to wash himself. He came away from the edge to the center of the small pool and dipped underneath the surface, scrubbing at his skin when he rose. His large hands slid over his arms and chest, making the water stream off his skin.

Genji tried not to watch him while that testy feeling intensified. He shifted in his seat. “I’m not a peasant either,” he said to the man’s back. Water soaked the man’s thick hair, making it shine in the sun and those thick back muscles flexed and bunched as he washed himself. Genji had nothing against peasants, of course. His parents had been peasants who’d served the lord of their province within the grounds of the castle keep before the shogun dissolved the lord’s estate and turned them all out. But Genji hadn’t had the chance to grow up as a peasant once he’d been sold into service of Shizu, the theater troupe’s director. And so, his occupation, the very thing that had formed his identity as a human being, was of utmost importance to him and would be known. Even to this bedraggled-looking warrior.

The samurai turned and regarded him. More water beaded off his broad chest and down his taut abdomen. “What are you then?”

Genji squared his shoulders a bit. “An actor.”

The samurai’s eyes widened with a look of amazement. “Ohhhh,” he said in a hushed whisper, as if a great honor were being conferred on him. Then he bowed, his face nearly touching the surface of the water.

Genji’s cheeks burned. Was the samurai mocking him?

But when the other man straightened, his expression seemed sincere. “You must be famous,” he said.

“You don’t need to make fun of me just because I am part of a traveling troupe.”

The samurai’s brow furrowed. “I make fun of no one.” He bowed again. “I have never met an actor before.”

Genji studied him as his indignation faded. Judging from the wild look of the man, it was certainly possible he didn’t patronize the theater as so many of his class did. Then Genji understood his own agitation. “I apologize,” he said softly. “I see you weren’t mocking me. I’m not accustomed to a…response such as yours.”

“Oh.” The samurai bowed again, and Genji felt his cheeks tingle a bit. In spite of their strange introduction, the warrior seemed to possess the sense of honor exhorted by the samurai code, a quality Genji found attractive.

“My name is Genji,” he said, feeling his heart open a bit toward the samurai. Politeness went quite far with him since so many patrons saw his occupation as an excuse to make him an immediate object of their carnal appetites without regard for his feelings. “Sakura Genji.” Sakura was a surname he’d given himself, not only because he found cherry blossoms beautiful, but as a stage name, it had a touch of romance to it. He also felt it would honor his parents. They’d have been proud to know their son had earned the honor of a surname, even if he had to confer the honor upon himself as he grew older and earned his promotion from stagehand to understudy to first performer.

The samurai bowed yet again. “Minamoto,” he said, “Minamoto Daisuke.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Genji paused before speaking again. “Which lord do you serve?” he asked and immediately regretted his question.

Minamoto’s face darkened, and the wildness Genji had first seen came forth in his look.

“I serve no lord,” he said quietly. “I’m a ronin.”

A masterless samurai. There were many of those in the world. For various reasons, these warriors roamed the countryside, using their skills for their own purposes, never swearing fealty to one lord. Indeed, the status explained Minamoto’s unkempt state. The occupation of ronin never held the promise of steady employment, especially in a time as relatively peaceful as this one, when a swordsman’s skill was not so much in demand.

Genji sought to lighten the sudden mood. There was something underneath the ronin’s demeanor that made Genji uneasy in spite of the man’s apparent honorability. “Well, then, we have something in common,” he said.

“What is that?” Minamoto looked genuinely curious.

“Neither of us stays long in one place. You’re a ronin, and I’m a tobiko.”

Minamoto broke into a grin. He laughed then, a deep, rich laugh that did, indeed, release the darkness of the previous moment.

Genji found the laughter infectious and joined him. Their combined voices echoed into the air, Minamoto’s deep sound and Genji’s higher, melodious one, blending into the sweet summer air and the birdsong in the surrounding trees. Life held some truly pleasant moments for Genji at times, and this was one of them.

When their mirth had passed, Minamoto regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “I wouldn’t have thought of such a comparison, but you’re right, after all. The world holds great uncertainties for both of us.”

Genji nodded then saw the samurai’s look shift, as if his own words had made him think of something he’d left behind while laughing. Feeling suddenly shy, Genji shifted his gaze to the water. “This is certainly a beautiful spot,” he said. The mood had darkened again, and Genji understood. Minamoto carried this darkness with him. It was part of him, like a precious treasure to which he clung for survival. Being an actor had sensitized Genji to the inner workings of human beings. After all, he needed to access the depths of human existence in order to portray it effectively onstage through song and dance.

“It is beautiful,” Minamoto agreed. “I’ve soaked here many times.”

“Oh, so you’ve been in the province before.”

The darkness seemed to close in like a shadow over Minamoto’s handsome face. “I lived here for some time, years ago.”

“I see.” Genji remained quiet. It wasn’t his way to pry into others’ lives. He’d learned long ago to mind his own affairs. Yet, it often didn’t matter. For whatever reason, he had a way about him that made people feel able to bare their souls to him and so had often learned more than he wanted to know of others’ depravities and secrets.

A tormented look tightened Minamoto’s features. “It’s no secret why I lived here and why I left. No doubt you’ll hear the gossip once people see I’ve returned.”

Genji’s insides jumped. Apparently, the ronin sensed this thing in Genji as well. It was inescapable. “I never pay heed to gossip,” he said. “It’s belittling. Unworthy of even the lowliest peasant.”

A moment of silence passed, and Genji thought his response had ended their conversation, but Minamoto spoke again.

“Five years ago, the lord of this province murdered my wife,” he said quietly. “Shot her with an arrow while he was out hunting. She was collecting flowers. They were still in her hand when she was brought to me.”

Genji stared at him. It occurred to him perhaps the lord had been hunting and mistook the woman’s movement for a game creature, but deep inside, he knew it wasn’t true. The act had been committed in cold blood. The truth was in Minamoto’s eyes.

“I was a threat to him,” Minamoto continued. “The aid I gave to certain of his vassals made him distrust me. He did it to rid the province of me. He succeeded. I could not stay here after that…and be reminded of her. Everywhere I looked.”

“I’m truly sorry,” he said softly. Clearly the ronin still grieved. The woman’s death had obviously been a loss from which Minamoto felt he could never return. Perhaps that was the cause of the darkness Genji had sensed in the man.

Minamoto’s stricken eyes went to him. The sympathy he read on Genji’s face seemed to soothe him, for his look shifted to something softer. He nodded an acknowledgment of Genji’s kindness to him. “Since then, I’ve travelled every inch of Japan, been to every province, and studied with the greatest swordsmen of each fiefdom.”

The samurai’s voice took on an edge as he spoke. There was a hunger in his eyes Genji had seen before in the warriors of his class. So many of them possessed fighting skills beyond anyone’s imagination, and in this peaceful time, they had no outlet other than to challenge each other to duels or to protect villages from gangsters and bandits. From the way Minamoto spoke, and from what he’d just revealed about his past, Genji felt certain as to the destructive course this man actually followed. Minamoto was a man consumed, devoured from the inside by his own life. The understanding formed in Genji’s mind and heart as he watched the steam rise from the water’s surface around Minamoto’s damp torso. Minamoto was a living, breathing figure of tragedy.

The understanding softened Genji a bit more toward the man. As much as he ever wanted to remain aloof from anyone for his own protection, he was never able to do so, as if some sort of natural barrier that other people had was missing from him. “Perhaps it’s none of my business,” Genji began gently, “and please tell me if it is not, but what brought you back to this province?” Something gave him the feeling it wasn’t to revisit the place where he had lived with his wife.

That darkness settled over Minamoto again. “I have unfinished business here.”

The answer confirmed his suspicions. Yet, Minamoto’s intentions were none of Genji’s affair. Genji’s existence was devoted to playing the Samurai Princess, a role for which Shizu had meticulously trained him since buying Genji off the platform.

Genji nodded and remained respectfully quiet. The slant of the sun told him it was time to return to the village. His troupe had just arrived the previous day, and their stage would be near completion. Rehearsals would go on this evening, and then when the news of their arrival had spread, there would be the usual wandering in of samurai looking for an evening’s companion. Genji sighed. “I must return. I have a few moments to dry out on the bank, and then I will go back.”

The ronin started as if given a shock. He bowed to Genji. “I’ll accompany you,” he said. “It’s safer not to travel alone.”

Genji hovered on the verge of refusing the offer. After all, he had his tanto and wasn’t afraid to use it…he believed. However, he found Minamoto’s company oddly comforting, showing Genji how lonely he actually felt in spite of his busy life. His fellow tobiko could never really be true friends, even Aoki. Especially Aoki, who coveted Genji’s position in the troupe. Aoki would not want to remain an understudy indefinitely, and so there was always an undercurrent of tension among the troupe members. With a sigh, Genji climbed from the pool, retrieved the pile of his things from the rock, and went to the grass. Retrieving the small bottle of sesame oil from his things, he poured some into his hand and smoothed it into his wet hair. The long strands would comb out much more easily when dry if he worked any tangles out beforehand.

Peripherally, Genji saw Minamoto recline on the grass roughly an arm’s length away. He kept his back turned so as not to steal glances at the samurai’s magnificent, naked physique stretched out on the grass in the sun. Working his fingers down the fall of his hair, Genji turned slightly and caught a glance of Minamoto’s lower body. The man’s musuko was no longer soft between his muscular thighs but stretched halfway erect, blooming with reddish color.

A jolt went through Genji’s body, sending in its wake a series of tingles that concentrated in his own member. He’d thought himself jaded after serving so many samurai with his body, but for some reason, life now infused his male parts, even his nipples, which began to tighten into small, hard peaks. He looked back down, pretending to concentrate on his hair with all his will.

“Your hair is so beautiful.”

Coming Soon: Soy Sauce Face (M/M; Contemporary; Yaoi-inspired)

Sometimes the best kept secret is the one you keep from yourself…

“I’m an ordinary man with an ordinary life in every way. Except for Jun. That’s what I think to myself every night when I watch Jun getting ready for his work as a bar host in Kabukicho. He’s everything I’m not. He’s the beautiful, graceful, sociable and ambitious counterpart to me—a hulking, reclusive, completely unambitious guy who’d rather fix car and motorcycle engines all day than interact with people… I’d be happy if Jun just stayed here with me the rest of our lives, in this little apartment we’d once shared with Dad. But Jun has other plans.”

Or so Jun thinks. One night he gets ready and goes to work. But a tragic occurrence derails his career and all his plans for the future.

Through the eyes of his best friend, Tomo, the man who loves him above all others, Jun will be forced to confront himself, his deepest fears, hates, desires. And his deepest love.

Sneak peek (unedited. May differ slightly from final):

I’m an ordinary man with an ordinary life in every way. Except for Jun.

That’s what I think to myself every night when I watch Jun getting ready for his work as a bar host in Kabukicho. He’s everything I’m not. He’s the beautiful, graceful, sociable and ambitious counterpart to me—a hulking, reclusive, completely unambitious guy who’d rather fix car and motorcycle engines all day than interact with people.

We couldn’t be more different physically, either. Where I’m large and muscular from doing physical work, my hands dirty and callused, Jun is slender, willowy, his musculature lightly etched under his smooth golden skin, his hands carefully manicured. While my face is wide, my jaw squarish, my beard heavy and in need of shaving sometimes twice a day, Jun has what women call asoy sauce face, delicately-featured with high cheekbones, his eyes the shape of perfect almonds, artful, as if a calligrapher had brushed him into being. His lips are soft and voluptuous, always appearing pursed for a kiss.

While I wear my hair short, every day guy-like, Jun highlights his and wears it in long perfectly-sculpted spikes that hang down over his forehead, leaving space for his eyes. I dress in t-shirts and jeans while Jun always wears the latest in scoop neck tees and heavy silver chains with crosses, long leather duster coats, boots and pants with studded belts, as if he’s just walked off a fashion model’s runway.

Our eyes meet in the mirror. Jun smiles. “Aren’t you bored by now?” he asks. “I do the same thing every night.”

I shake my head. I could never be bored by Jun. To me he glows like a star. He’s a more miraculous sight than the pink cherry blossom petals that fill the air when the spring breezes pull them from the branches by the millions.

He chuckles and turns back to scrutinizing his outfit. “Suit yourself.” He doesn’t seem to mind my lurking in the doorway of his bedroom, watching him make sure his hair is perfectly in place before he puts on the rest of his outfit. Tonight it’s a silver ascot tucked into a black button-down dress shirt. A silver vest matches the ascot, all atop closely-fitting black slacks. When he finishes and studies the effect in his full-length mirror, I wonder if he sees himself as I do: as a human work of art.

He strikes a pose, one hip cocked out to the side, a thumb hooked into his pocket while his other hand holds the flap of his vest. The flashbulb of the photographer I imagine he wishes would capture his image on film never goes off. There’s only me, standing a few feet behind him, crowding the doorway with my hulking form, wishing Jun were free to spend the evening hanging out with me instead of hosting women in a bar.

In moments like this, I’m convinced we wouldn’t even have become friends had Jun’s mother not been living in the same apartment building years ago when Jun and I were kids. She worked as a bar hostess nights, leaving Jun alone all the time. Jun’s father was long out of his life, so long that Jun doesn’t even remember what he looked like. My dad, rest his soul, helped her out by having Jun come and stay with us in the evenings so he wouldn’t be alone. He practically lived here for years, so when his mom “left” him to run off with some man and start a new family on the other end of Japan, Jun just stayed.

I’d be happy if Jun just stayed here with me the rest of our lives, in this little apartment we’d once shared with Dad. But Jun has other plans.

I can’t imagine ever getting my wish. Jun is one of the top hosts where he works and he’s nearly all the way to his goal of earning enough to rent his own apartment in a swankier section of Tokyo. Shinjuku maybe. Or even Ginza if he can save up quite enough.

I suppress a sigh. What will become of us then? Jun so far away in a distant ward, living the exciting life he chases night after night. Year after year. The thought makes an ache in my chest. The ache worsens when Jun breaks his pose and turns with that ready-to-leave air about him.

At an hour when most people, myself included, are coming home from work to have dinner, play with their children go for a stroll and maybe watch some television before going to sleep, Jun is just leaving for work. He won’t be back until early in the morning. Maybe even after the sun is up, depending on what clients come in tonight. There are a couple of wealthy women he takes out to eat after the bar closes because they spend a lot of money with him. Sometimes they even go to a love hotel for a few hours.

I try not to wonder too much whether he enjoys his work. The thought just gets me depressed.

“Can’t be more ready than I am now,” he says. From his closet he retrieves the black ankle boots he’ll be wearing and heads toward the doorway. My heart squeezes as I step aside for him to pass through.

Before leaving, Jun sets his boots down and goes over to the memorial photographs of my parents and kneels in front of the small table that holds them, as he does religiously each day. A quiet air comes over him as he lights a stick of incense. He didn’t know my mother since she died of cancer before Jun and his mother moved into the building, but he honors her memory too, out of respect to me and my father, a Tokyo detective killed in the line of duty by the stray bullet of an armed thief he was pursuing.

I hang back quietly, allowing him his moments with my father who I know he still misses horribly, as I do. Then Jun rises, picks up his shoes and heads to the front door. He graces me with one of his smiles. “Please don’t wait up, Tomo.” The fact that I often fall asleep on the couch with the TV on because I don’t want to be tucked away in my room when he comes home makes him feel guilty. I certainly don’t mean to make him feel that way, I just want to see him, if even for a few minutes. It doesn’t matter anyway. I never make it through the night because I have to be up so early for work, which is when I see him often just getting home.

I watch him slip on his boots. “I’ll try not to,” I finally say. The empty promise I make every night. I can’t help it. My purpose in Jun’s life since I know him is to worry about him. He was a sad, unsmiling boy, leaning against the wall of the apartment building alone while his mother was out working. As a man, the sadness still haunts his eyes even though he covers it with glitzy clothing and work that keeps him up in the wee hours of the night so his sadness won’t haunt him and keep him lying awake.

At the open door he pauses. “Okay, thanks.” His eyes lock with mine, the way they did in his mirror’s reflection. For a moment, other words seem to hover on his lips and then he decides not to say them. This is something he’s been doing lately, leaving me to wonder what he would possibly want to say to me. Perhaps some day he will tell me, although if it’s something I’d rather not hear, then better he stays silent.

“Get there safely,” I say to his lingering form. I have my own ritual of unsaid things, one of which is, “Please stay home, Jun. You don’t have to go to that place. I’ll take care of you.” But I don’t. When I’ve said it in the past, he’s resented it and insisted that he needs to do this. He wants to be somebody and make something of his life, according to his own words. Yet, if he saw himself at all through my eyes, even for a moment, he’d understand. Though Jun is a grown man of twenty-seven, to me there’s something so little and vulnerable about him, I can’t help the eerie feeling that snakes its way through me each night he leaves for work. Tonight it’s especially strong.

“I will, Tomo. See you later.”

“Definitely.”

One more flash of his silver and black clad figure and the door clicks shut behind him.

I sigh, listening to his bootsteps on the cement catwalk until the sounds fade.

Alone in the apartment, I go and kneel in front of my parents’ photographs. Smoke from the incense curls delicately into the air in front of their faces and emits a trace of musk, a scent that echoes how wistful I feel. I look at my mother’s face. I was only five when she died and I don’t remember much about her except seeing her smile at me and making sure I ate and was clean. She never knew Jun as my father did. I turn to his picture, a portrait of him in the uniform he wore before he was promoted to detective and started wearing a suit to work. In fact, this is how I remember him dressed around the time he actually added Jun to our family register as a son, the act which I’m sure really saved Jun’s life. After having been abandoned by both his parents, knowing that someone cared so much about him as to make him a son was very healing to Jun’s heart. I knew that for sure when Jun stopped calling my father “Nakadai-san” and started calling him “Dad.”

So why does he still want to go off and get a place of his own? I ask my father the question silently to his equally silent image. When Dad was alive he used to say that Jun’s demons still haunted him even though being a part of our family had helped to make him happier. He said everyone has deep, driving forces inside them that remained a mystery unless they took the time to understand them. But, he would always add, it doesn’t mean that you can’t always care about Jun. Dad had learned so much about human nature in his line of work. If anyone was aware of the dark side of human beings, it was my father.

Back in my room, getting ready to shower, I also stare at the one photograph I keep on my chest of drawers. To me the image encapsulates the great happiness of my life—me and Jun and my dad during hanami. We’re sitting on our plastic sheet in the park not far from our apartment, under an enchanting canopy of cherry blossom trees. In front of us are scattered the empty bento boxes that had held our meals of rice and barbecued skewers of pork. Dad had been taking a picture of me and Jun when a passing couple had offered to take the picture for him so that he could be in it with his sons. That night after we got home, Dad told me and Jun of his decision to put Jun on the family register.

I owe the fact that Jun hasn’t really gotten into trouble to that one act of love from my father. However, Jun is hosting now, the way his mother used to and nothing I’ve ever said to him makes him realize he can stop. I just hate thinking of him over there in Kabukicho. I know too much about that area of Tokyo from having a father who was a police officer. I wish Jun had gone to work in a fancy hotel, which is what he’d originally planned to do, but he’s so determined to make something of his life that my pleas sink, unnoticed like stones in a murky pond.

I stare a few more moments at the photograph before heading into the shower. My evening unfolds as it always does. Shower, supper, then leftovers of nikujaga, a simple stew of meat and vegetables I threw together the day before, followed by a walk around the neighborhood, watching the kids tumble about on the complex’s monkey bars and swings, and then checking on my motorcycle parked in its space. When I get in, I watch some TV before I fall asleep on the sofa while I wait up for Jun, even though tonight is Friday and any other regular guy would probably be out on a date or something social, instead of passing the time until his friend gets home from work. I’ve often thought of getting some kind of work that would put him and me on the same schedule, but the job I have pays well and it’s our security should Jun ever come to his senses and give up what he’s doing now. Then he’ll know he really doesn’t have to worry about money. Perhaps it’s all a fantasy in my head, but it keeps me going day after day.

Tonight, I’m in a twilight kind of sleep, the TV droning softly in the background when the ring of my cell phone cuts through the haze. At first disoriented, I hold the phone up and see Jun’s name lighting up on the ID. The darkness outside tells me it’s the middle of the night, not a time when Jun would normally call.

Icy fingers rake through my chest. My sleepiness dispels as I press the button. “Jun, are you all right?” I don’t even bother to say a greeting I’m so alarmed.

“Is this Nakadai Tomohito?” The voice is female. Not Jun’s. My alarm escalates to terror.

“Yes. Where is Jun?”

She pauses. “My name is Michiko. I’m the mama-san of the bar where Jun works.” Her voice wavers. It’s a smoky-sounding voice that without the stress would sound confident. “Something…has happened. Jun was…attacked. He’s being brought to the emergency room at Meiji Memorial. I found your name on his phone as the emergency contact.”

Oh my god. “I’m on my way.” Not bothering to dress, I throw on my jeans jacket over the undershirt I’m already wearing. My pajama pants will have to do. I grab my wallet, keys, and helmet, shove my feet into my loafers and fly out the door.

Local Business

2011-10-13T06:41:00.000-07:00

Howdy Y'all,

(lol... I am not from Texas)

As I was online today, Googling myself as any respected author should do, I noticed that my book was listed on outwardbooks.com! This is a huge thing to me! See, as I was trying to think of ways to advertise, the brilliant thought occurred to me that I should send postcards to bookstores across the country. Now, this COULD be seen as a waste of time when hard copy books seem to be less and less purchased in lieu of eBooks etc... BUT, I am an advocate for small business. I hope to see small bookstores survive to internet era. So, I searched for glbt friendly bookstores, made a list, and hand addressed a postcard of When Love Is Not Enough. I sent out 100. (I am not rich.) ONE of the bookstores on my list was Outward Books in Milwaukee. Why? I noticed that Andrew Grey did a book signing there and I thought, "AWESOME, I wish I could drive 15 hours over and have him sign something!" (This is sarcasm. I would not drive that far for anything. --I'd take a plane.) Anyway, since I did not want to seem like Andrew's stalker, I refrained from going.

It DID stick in my mind though, that bookstores were still out and about and needed support. Especially if authors as myself wish to sell books in them!!

Now, don't get me wrong, I am a HUGE fan of AMAZON!!! I buy loads of things off there all the time. It is easy, and the products get delivered right to my door, no fuss no muss. But when I saw Outward Books had MY little ol' book on it's front page I was thrilled! No granted, if you buy from a bookstore, you have to pay shipping. At a book which costs $17.99 normally, add shipping, you are looking at $21.40 (if I estimate USPS correctly) This seems like a LOT!!! I know. On the other hand, if all we do is but from Amazon to avoid shipping costs, then the post office hikes their prices to contend with drop-offs in business, and the Mom & Pop stores fold. Small town bookstores need your business to survive.

I say this, and immediately think of BIG bookstores like Barns and Noble and Borders Books. These have takes huge hits. These places have money and resources beyond local shops, yet they have a hard time contending with Amazon.com, and allromancebooks. NOT that these places are bad! They sell my books and I am really, really glad! However, I wish to put it out there, that if you have a chance, and you don't mind letting go of an extra $3.41, then log onto outward books and shop there on occasion. Make the store owner glad he stuck by his guns during the internet fade of eBooks, and sold good-old-fashioned paperbacks!!

Nothing like the feel of pages between your fingertips!

I am listed here. If you were going to buy my novel in paperback anyway, I URGE you to visit and support small business instead of buying on AMAZON. Remember OUTWARD BOOKS needs your support!

That's all for now.

Thanks to Tristan and All Male Romance for allowing me to post this blog here. (it is the same as on my goodreads post!)

Wade

xoxo

0 comments

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Joe Filippone

2011-10-10T08:11:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

I have to admit that although Joe has LOADS of stories in anthologies all over the place, I have not read his stuff until now. WOW, is all I can say.

Real Boys Kiss Boys was a lovely surprise and an enjoyable experience to read. This is copied from my review on Goodreads.com:

This was really cute. As I started reading, I thought, "This is so funny." Joe has a lovely way with words and I felt comfortable reading about Mitch. His voice was familiar and friendly. I like how Joe brought out the surroundings as Mitch daydreamed and described his fears and anxiety. And then he met Luka. (I love that name, btw) It was a beautiful friendship. Sweet, casual, and endearing.

I found myself laughing, (almost) crying, and feeling sick on a few occasions as I read and felt their journey in high school, coming out for the first time and experiencing hate.

This was a wonderful story full of emotion. Thank you Joe for sharing this with us! I look forward to more of your novels!

...

I am not sure what more I can add to that as I am not the best reviewer :S I liked this book. It is not long (93 pages) but it gets the point across. It is a love story. It is sweet. And it is something I am thoroughly glad I read! I recommend this to any and all readers who want to experience that "first love in high school" feeling, especially if you want to see into the mind of a seventeen-year-old boy!

Congrats Joe! I hope you write more novels of this caliber ;)

hugs,
Tristan

Gays in the Military

2011-09-27T03:04:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone, Jaxx Steele here to give you my take on being gay in the military. I will not divulge which branch I was in, but I will give you a small peek at what I experience. By no means is this blog meant to be a ‘military bashing’ experience. This is only a politically correct retelling of my personal experiences.

During my time ‘in’ I learned what all other soldiers learned: to tolerate horrible food, build my stamina, shoot a variety of cool guns and how to tune out people that yell in your face. I also learned to conceal my true nature and that was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

I went in knowing, of course, about the ‘don’t ask-don’t tell’ but being young and naïve I thought that if I did that I would be fine. I soon found out that that was not the case. If someone even accused you of being gay whether you were or not didn’t matter. You were ostracized by everyone. In front of the brass and the suits all was well, but down time was another story.

I was not the only one on that side of the fence, but the heterosexuals out number us for sure. Even those who called themselves your friends would shun you fearful of being labeled the same and thus receiving the same treatment. I won’t go into detail on said treatment for fear that it could cause a psychotic like episode that would leave my left eye twitching for days. I will just say it was reminiscent of a few distasteful scenes in Full Metal Jacket.

Time moved on and even the emotional scars healed. Although I eagerly scratched each day off my mental calendar, I would not have changed my years in the service. The experience made me stronger mentally and physically and the man I am today. Even though the repeal of the DADT is on the books, I believe it will take time to affect the folks on the ground level of things and change to occur among the masses. I hope it doesn’t, but…

Recently, I wrote a story about a gay couple in the military called Care Package (available at Silver Publishing). The counselors they make you see when you are released may say writing this story was somehow therapeutic, but I say it was pure fun. LOL

First Sergeant Dwayne Roman was asked to leave his life as a soldier. Reluctantly he did so and settled fitfully into civilian life. The law of the land and a military cover up separated him from the most important person in his life. After suffering three years with regret and loneliness, he had the chance to get back what an unjust law and self-serving people took from him.

Jaxx Steele…has left the building!

Words of Wisdom from author J.P. Bowie

2011-09-14T10:55:00.000-07:00

I guess because I’ve been writing m/m romantic fiction for some time now, I get asked by writers new to the genre how I got started, and where I get my ideas from. This article isn’t advice to fledging writers by any means—just maybe some helpful hints I have accrued over the years.

I started writing in this genre about five years ago. Until then I’d been writing gay romantic fiction without the erotic edge. Yes, my men kissed, caressed and fell in love, but the love making was, in a word, discreet. When I wrote My Vampire and I, I opened the bedroom door and let the guys go for the gold, and after reading the words of one reviewer – “What a delightful surprise from J.P. Bowie” I figured I’d found my niche.

Elisa Rolle, our favorite Italian reviewer, also pointed out that although the story was about creatures of the night, there was a lot of humor in it, and very little angst, something I strive for in all my stories. Even in my darker tales, I have to inject some humor. Readers have to first love, or at least really like, the characters. They must want to cheer for them as the heroes’ mutual attraction grows and their lips meet for that first kiss. The readers must feel fundamentally involved in the men’s lives and want them to succeed. If that doesn’t happen then the writer has failed in some way to convey the hopes and fears of the protagonists, and to make the reader care for them.

Writing m/m erotic romance isn’t just a case of stringing sex scenes together. Quite often, too much sex in a story can get a bit boring after a while. Here’s where the character building comes in. The men should be real flesh and blood characters, not just buffed and gorgeous with big dicks. On the other hand, all that combined with intelligence, compassion, a sense of worth—and please, a sense of humor—will earn you points from most readers!

Then there’s the plot. Even in a short story there should be more than just boy meets boy, boy beds boy, and they live happily ever after. Yes, HEA’s are pretty much called for by most m/m publishers, but getting there should involve some conversation, perhaps some conflict (rather than angst), indecision, maybe even betrayal, something to hold the readers’ interest other than the fact the lads are buffed and gorgeous with big you-know-whats. I like mystery and adventure stories so a lot of my books contain those elements; even my paranormal stories tend to lean toward a mystery to be solved or action sequences. Anything to get the readers’ attention, and not have them skipping pages.

If you’re a new author, or yet to be published, gird your loins for those first reviews. Every author has had a rotten egg thrown at him or her at one time or another. Once your work is out there it’s fair game for everyone who thinks he/she can do better. Some are good and constructive critiques, others are simply destructive. But hey, it goes with the territory, and I, who have had my fair share of rotten eggs, try to learn from even the worst review.

Writing m/m erotic romance is above all else, fun. You get to invent these great characters, have them fall in love, have mind-blowing sex, chase villains on horseback or in cars or planes, have mind-blowing sex, face down bigotry, put the world to rights, have mind-blowing…Well, you get the idea. All you wannabe m/m writers out there – go for it, and have fun!

J.P. Bowie

http://www.jpbowie.com/

How I started writing Gay Romance

2011-09-02T10:58:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone, Jaxx Steele here again.

This time I'd like to share how I started writing gay romance. As a kid I was surrounded by readers, both parents, aunts, baby sitters... Anyway, one day I was at the baby sitter's after school and she put her book down to make me something to eat and I picked it up. The rest as they say is history. I was hook! I read everything she had on her shelf. She had plenty of Danielle Steel and Barbara Cartland, but when I came to the one lonely Bertrice Small book and a Thea Devine book, there was no going back.

That was when I was 14, by the time I was 17 I knew girls were not in my future so the stories lost some of their luster. I loved the idea of the romance and the sex in Ms. Small and Ms. Devine's books and I wondered if there was anything like that for gay men. At the time there was no internet and I doubted if there was anything I was looking for in the library so I decided to write my own.

Thus began my journey into the writing world. In college I took elective courses to improve my writing and asked my English and writing teachers as much as I could without giving away what I was really doing. And then, lady luck smiled upon me. I ran into a gay teacher! He wasn't out of course, but you know your own, you know? Anyway, I gave him one of my stories and he loved it! With someone other than myself liking my work I kept writing. The internet blew up a few years later and saw that there was plenty of gay romance to go around out there! Knowing that encouraged to me to write even more and search for a publisher.

I graduated and went into my career. I am still friends today with that teacher and I have never forgotten what he taught me. He gave me 3 rules about writing. I would like to share them with you:

1) Find your voice and stay true to it.

2) Keep improving your skill as a writer.

3) Learn all you can from other authors who have been there and done that!

I still use these rules today. My stories have touched many genres, but they have all been romances. Here are a few of my favorites:

Care Package (Silver Publishing)

Papa Knows Best

Dominick 'Papa' Pappas was a handsome, young photography teacher at Indiana University given to impulsive behavior and an overwhelming passion for his craft. Professor Bradley Louis taught philosophy at the college and had the reputation of being the sternest and most unsocial of all the teachers on campus. When Papa first laid eyes on Professor Louis it was love at first sight. Professor Louis was handsome, intelligent and twenty years his senior. Papa approached him, but the professor turned away from his advances claiming they had nothing in common and belonged to two different generations. Because of that he didn't think they had a chance to survive as a couple. Can Papa convince him of otherwise or will Professor Louis' theory on May-November relationships prevail?

Right Side of the Tracks

Faced with the consequences of one careless night, Russell Drake left his lover, James, to marry a woman he barely knew. It certainly wasn't what he planned, but one look at his son's tiny face convinced him that he'd do whatever was necessary to make his child happy— even if it cost him his own happiness. But fate has something else in mind for him, and an unforeseen accident once again sets off a cascade of change. Three years later, Russell no longer has to settle and exist for his son's sake. He has the chance to rediscover the life he'd wanted with James?

Jaxx is out!

www.jaxxsteele.com

When Love Is Not Enough

2011-08-22T11:00:00.000-07:00

Hello readers :)

I'm a bit nervous as I "blog" so very little. In fact, if you google me not much comes up. :s Tristan asked me to write something as a way to promote my book so here it goes...

When Love is Not Enough is the very first Wade Kelly publication!!! (SO exciting for me!) I started writing this book in 2009 when the image of someone touching a casket popped into my head. Yes, it sounds odd, but I DID grow up watching horror movies! In this mind-image I saw the wood, and I felt a shiver surrealism as if I WERE THE ONE about to look into the dead face of someone I loved. At that moment, I HAD to write it down!

I was on a subway at the time, notebook in-hand as it is so very often. My thoughts raced. What if my character was at the funeral of his best friend? What would he feel? Hurt, sadness, anger, emptiness? the first words in my notebook were, "Matthias Dixon fingered the casket." I later added, "fingered the rim of the wooded casket with distant fascination? ~~uneasiness?~~" ... These were my first words but as stories change and take on a life of their own, so did my book. This line is now in chapter 3. "MATTHIAS DIXON fingered the rim of the wooden casket with distant fascination. It wasn’t as if he’d never attended a viewing before, but this one… this one sucked all the sorrow right out of him, until he felt as if he were nothing more than a hollow shell."

I also do not always follow the rules of proper writing--so untrained am I--that I am ever so thankful to Dreamspinner Press for publishing my manuscript!! It is unconventional to say the least. Normal stories, in my experience, go in chronological order. They build up in suspense and keep the reader entranced by the mystery of what might come. Yeah--no mystery here. You know in the prologue that Jimmy dies. I don't know how to keep secrets. I like to put the tragedy right out there. I ALSO have a hard time reading love stories that take forever to get to the sex. *blushes* These are not girls I am writing about! Sex--in my opinion--doesn't have to be romanticized and seen as a climax of love and commitment. Sex can be raw and urgent, and often based on need not romance. In When Love is Not Enough you will find romance--definitely--but also lust, need, and desire.

I strive for realism. If you feel I am being ridiculous--call me out on it! my book is listed on goodreads.com http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/12399401-when-love-is-not-enough

I guess what I want to say about this book is that it means a lot to me personally. People say, "Write what you know." There is a little bit of me in every character. I take my own experiences, good and bad, and express them through fiction. It is therapeutic. Bullying over homosexuality is wrong. This book is not exactly about that, but deals more with hate and intolerance. These are real issues and I wanted to write what I have experienced into my characters in hopes of making people think. I hope this book does just that! MAKE THE READER THINK! (and cry! I would love to make people cry.)

So, thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy my book. Leave a comment below this post. (and share this blog around town!) I will be sending ONE person a signed copy of When Love is Not Enough. Comment on WHY you WANT to read it, OR what MEANT the MOST to you when you did. I will give this two weeks and select a winner then.

my website is http://wadekelly.weebly.com/index.html

and I am on facebook :)

xoxo,

Wade

Big Bad Blurbs

2011-08-15T11:14:00.000-07:00

I need to get a few things off my chest.

First, I have dropped and shattered yet another jar of peanut butter on the floor. This is the second jar that has met its doom this month. The funny thing is that they don’t shatter but merely crack and send powdery shards of glass everywhere. It’s hilarious and a blast to sweep up in flip flops. Naturally, both jars were full. I can’t seem to keep one in my possession long enough to eat the contents.

Second, I’ve admitted to myself that I believe in elves. Every time I drop and break something, which is often, I actually pause for a moment and hope this will be the time when those elves that helped the shoemaker are going to appear and clean the mess up. I contemplated leaving that shattered jar of peanut buttery goodness on the floor just to see what would happen.

I did this once with laundry at an old apartment building and was rewarded with my clothes being taken. It was a progressive thing. I would go down one day and they were on the dryer, I took what I needed and left the rest, the day after that they were folded. It made sense that if I left them there one more day they would somehow magically appear put away in my drawers.

Not so.

Why didn’t I put the clothes away? I don’t remember. I was in college it was a 100 years ago. Who knows?

Now that I’ve unloaded my dirty laundry let me also say I HATE writing blurbs. If ever there was a time for those elves this would be when I would request their help. I recently had to write a blurb for my upcoming release “The Incident,” with Seventh Window Publications and found the task of writing the blurb daunting. I always do. I began to wonder why. After all the book has been accepted for publication, the book is written, edited, the cover art has been decided, so what is the big deal about writing a little paragraph summing it all up?

I think it has something to do with exactly that. As writers, we spend an inordinate amount of time on our output. The entire process from start to finish in getting anything published is arduous. It is also thrilling, wonderful, and exciting. Now after weeks, months and I’m sure in some cases years, the project is done and you are asked to ice the cake with a blurb. Sum up all of that in a paragraph; please, thank you and goodbye. I realized as I was writing this blog that maybe writing the blurb is painful because it is like sending your kid to college. It’s the final farewell before you both begin the endless promo-ing, interviews, and will endure both praise and criticism from reviewers and readers, who, lets face it, in this genre can be pretty intense.

Neither you, nor your baby know what the future will bring and the blurb is really the first impression of your work to a potential reader. So don’t fuck it up and could you keep it to a paragraph, max. Thanks. I obviously want people to read and enjoy what I write. I want my kid to be well-dressed and well-mannered. I want all the other kids to like him/her and I don’t want a bad report from the parents. So I write the blurb, all the time wondering if those elves could lend a hand or at least clean up that damn peanut butter, or at least maybe that kind soul who folded my laundry years ago could swing by and this time take the peanut butter. I’m not picky. Elves and thieves are welcome around my fire.

So adieu little blurb, go out and make Poppa proud. Smile, say thank you, even when you get a crappy review or some tired queen from Oregon gives you shit on goodreads, you just smile and take it honey, cuz there’s plenty more where that came from.

Ever hear of a synopsis?

***

Make sure you come on by my website where the elves are always at work or find me on Facebook and Twitter. I can also be found dishing dirt and smut at my sex advice column over at examiner.com and be sure and keep your peepers peeped for “The Incident,” and “The Birches” both from Seventh Window Publications and “Lily” coming soon from Silver Publications.

-- Xavier Axelson

Hot Head by Damon Suede

2011-08-09T04:59:00.001-07:00

I'm not sure that I can say anything different than all the other "review sites" and people who actually know what they are talking about, but here it goes...

I enjoyed reading Hot Head! *so eloquent*

First of all, I bought the book because I read a review. >>AND because I met Damon at a book fair and think he is a wonderful guy! Cute, funny, & very intelligent, but that is beside the point<<

I read "Up front, this is one of the best M/M romance I have read lately, even more surprisingly since this a debut from Damon Suede. The author is not new to the M/M crowd and so maybe he socked up a lot of do and don’t about this genre, and he wonderfully displayed them in this novel....etc." by elisa ramblings. How can one NOT buy a book when a review starts off this way? I HAD to!

I started reading it as I normally do with casual interest and a la-la-la feel to the day. I wanted to relax and read something fun with firefighters. Not so with this book. I have read a fair amount of books where deep reading is not really needed. (Do you know those kind?) Some people write shallow. NOT that I am saying these authors can't write (they shall remain nameless), but rather the story doesn't take a lot of thought and can be read easily. Easy-breezy, and la-la-la under a tree in the shade. Well, I had to stop. (Hence why it looks on goodreads like I took forever to read it!) This was not a "breezy" book.

Unexpectedly I bought something that had depth and great detail. The characters had more to them than "My name is Griff" and I was forced to absorb every word. Damon pulled my attention to New York with all its surroundings. The people, the bars, the streets, and yes-9/11. His care about presenting the emotion and destruction of that disaster got to me. The description of the soot in Griff eyes and the impact of the air wooshing hard enough to through a man through plate-glass. It was gripping.

It also had the unexpected twist of a Russian guy running a *hmm-hmm* website...lol... I wasn't expecting that. It made me laugh but also had me drooling. Cleaver way to get the two characters naked though not the first time I read that type of scenario. (Str8t Boys also had a similar thing with photography.) I also liked the strong family characters who added more realism and depth to the main characters. Damon put thought into them and how their opinion and interaction would make Dante and Griff into two guys that could really live right down the block. (If I lived in NY, that is.) I took my time reading this so I could savor each chapter. I suggest you do the same!

I may not be the best reviewer, but for some reason you are here reading this post.. hehehhee :)

I read what I read, I like what I like, and don't really know how to say it otherwise.

I hope you enjoy reading HOT HEAD by Damon Suede as much as I did!

Ciao for now,

Tristan ;)

Musings From Hollywood

2011-07-18T04:05:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting here at my desk looking out the window at The Hollywood Hills, wondering why I was crazy enough to agree to write this blog. I’m very boring and I doubt anyone really wants to hear about my life but here we go.

I have been living in Hollywood for almost three years and have been lucky enough to be working as an actor almost that whole time. I love my job and what I get to do for a living. I have wanted to be an actor since I was three years old and there are still times when I don’t believe I’m really here doing what I always wanted to do.

While acting can be very rewarding and a lot of fun it is a very hard life and a very unfair business. Hollywood is not for everyone and this town can, and does, destroy a lot of people if you let it and aren’t strong enough.

Acting is more than just fancy parties, glamorous premiers and being recognized by strangers. That’s just a small part.

There is a reason why it’s called show business. As actors we spend almost all of our time submitting to projects and sending headshots and resumes to casting directors, agents, managers and publicists. We go to thousands of auditions, dozens of callbacks; most of these roles we will never get and that constant rejection can eat at people and make them hate acting and grow bitter. We spend so little time actually acting.

When we are lucky enough to act we have to memorize lines, create a living, breathing, believable human and be able to turn our emotions on and off at the snap of a finger. We must also maintain those emotions for many takes or live performances. That can be draining, especially if you have an early morning call, a night shoot or an eighteen hour day.

It can be hard to have a relationship too. If you date someone in the business there is the risk of jealousy or resentment growing if one partner’s career takes off and the other’s doesn’t. Someone outside the business may not understand why you pursue the dream and it can be hard to watch the love of your life do a sex scene or make out with someone or be naked in a role.

I would say that if you move to Hollywood because all you want is fame, lots of money and to be a “star”, save yourself the money and heartbreak and find another career. It takes years and lots of hard work to be a star and famous. No one is “discovered” and there are no “overnight successes.”

So why do I put myself through this? Because I don’t want to do anything else. I can’t do anything else. I love performing and I’m lucky to be able to work, literally, all the time. And not just in front of the camera. I also work behind the scenes when I feel like I have to recharge my sanity. That’s another piece of advice I can give; don’t limit yourself. Do everything. You never know who you’re going to meet or what opportunities you can get. I became eligible to join SAG by working as a PA on a webseries. I got a co-star role and Taft-Hartlied.

If you are willing o do the work, have a thick skin and are tenacious, you can succeed and have a long and fulfilling career in Hollywood.

Thanks for stopping by,

~Joe

Joe Filippone has been acting for almost twenty years, ever since he was a child. He has appeared on the TV shows 1000 Ways To Die, Childrens’ Hospital, Homicide Hunters and the webseries Shooting For The Scars, Fabulous High, Driving With Our Eyes Shut. Joe has appeared in countless indie films and stage productions. He has also worked as a stage manager, director, casting director, sound and light operator, house manager and teacher. Joe is also a dancer, singer and writer whose work has appeared in nearly thirty anthologies. www.joefilippone.webs.com or www.garlandserotictales.webs.com

Older Men: Love them!

2011-07-12T03:49:00.000-07:00

Jaxx Steele here to give you my take on older men. I wanted to take this moment to give props to sexy men over forty-five in the world. The men that are aging like fine wine and getting sexier as time passes, you know the ones I’m talking about: the Sean Connerys, Mark Harmons, Samuel Jacksons, Denzel Washingtons and Antonio Banderas’ of the world. I love then all!

I write romances and work really hard trying to bring out my characters inner as well as outer beauty. Although most of my characters are in their mid twenties to mid thirties, I personally adore older men. I have nothing against a young man, I just prefer an older man. If you will continue reading I will share a few reasons why.

Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of Jaxx Steele and not necessarily shared by the good people at All Male Romance.

Now, that the legalities have been observed….

The physical beauty of a young man is one of his assets to be sure and surely one of his prize possessions. I mean, who doesn't walk along the beach just to see those lovely hard bodies, burned to a golden glow by the sun, glistening with a sheen of perspiration, flexing beautifully in the bright July heat? 0-0 *ahem* Sorry about that. I was lost in the visual of all that.

Anyway, as I was saying, that's all good, but it takes more than a pretty face, doesn’t it? I am not trying to bash younger men, but if physical beauty fades with time and that’s all you have, well… An older man who is healthy in mind and conscience of his physical health can be just as beautiful! He appreciates the days he has and lives them to the fullest. His graying hair looks distinguished on him and ups his sexiness tenfold.

As far as physical beauty goes, Father Time has been kind to his body because he remains active. He may not possess that six pack he used to at twenty five, but as he hovers around fifty he is in good shape and shows appreciation for your six pack! And Lordy! Let’s not forget there are still a few out there who do have the body they had at twenty five!

There is also the matter of 'finding one’s self'. A young man is still searching, trying out new things, figuring what he wants in all levels of his life. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. We all change as we grow into the people we are going to be. It's a fact of life. When dealing with a younger man you have to be prepared for that and be willing to be flexible enough to ride out the changes and deal with the ones that you may not like. But!...an older man has gone though most of the transformations. Therefore, he is less likely to change on you. They have already been educated so they are intelligent, worldly and confident in who he is as a man. He has no problem teaching you what he knows and welcomes the challenge of learning new things from you.

I would love to read more gay romance with older men like that. I have been lucky enough to meet some outstanding men in their forties, fifties and even sixties. Men in the prime of who they are and looking fabulous. I wrote two books with this type of man. If you're interested in reading them they are:

Papa knows Best (available at Phaze) and one coming the holiday season, Hosting for the Holidays (coming this Christmas to Muse it Hot) Links to buy can be found on my website. Feel free to leave a comment on how you liked my blog or the books right here and until next time…

Jaxx Steele, lover of older men, has left the building.

www.jaxxsteele.com

It’s Raining Men

2011-06-06T08:02:00.000-07:00

Summer is my favorite time of the year (which is probably why I moved a couple years ago from the Lone Star State where about half the year is fairly warm to Paradise where it is a sweet mid-80s 365). The best part of summer is not the hot temperatures, but the hot bodies. On the beaches of Hawaii there are literally hundreds of half-naked, muscular males bodies spread across the sand or surfing a righteous wave.

In fact, there’s so many, I sometimes think it’s raining men.

They come in all shapes and sizes. Some have a distinct resemblance to the jock you may have lusted after in high school – coming from the home of Friday Night Lights, mine were always football players.

Others come in the form of a military man with their high n tights and even tighter bottoms (they may not be astronauts exploring the far reaches of outer space, but there are many cuties in uniform inhabiting the various military bases).

From Hawaii Five-0 to undercover cops, there are men in blue (without the blue) taking a break from bringing down outlaws and exacting justice to bask in the sun.

I’ve even seen the bare-chested variety that resemble cowboys like those back home in Texas (although I admit I’m fairly sure there are no vampires).

Ahh, paradise.

I’m sure you’ll find men just like these in your neck of the woods – but as for me, I’ll take mine in swim trunks with a side of suntan oil. So take out your umbrella, enjoy the rain of men and your summer!

-- Rebecca Leigh

http://www.ravenousromance.com/anthologies/tight-ends-an-erotic-gay-football-anthology.php?keyword=tight+ends

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/advanced_search_result.php?keywords=outlaw&osCsid=aiecdorbec0e87hvl2caqs4ir7&x=0&y=0

http://www.breathlesspress.com/erotic/paranormal/room-number-12.html

The M/M Romance Community Deserves a Round of Applause!!

2011-06-01T11:20:00.000-07:00

In the past four or five years I've watched many changes happen within the publishing industry. All good changes, at least I think they are.

But I think the most wonderful change I've seen is how the M/M romance community has pulled together and formed such a solid, positive bond. Every day when I open my in-box there's a nice e-mail from a M/M romance author talking about a new book. These e-mails are always filled with positive energy, which is the best way to start off even the rainiest, cloudiest day of the week. I look forward to seeing who is doing what, and how they are doing it. Everyone seems to be doing something different, but just as interesting.

I used to dread opening my in-box in the morning. I never knew what to expect. If it wasn't spam, it was a political e-mail from a disgruntled friend with too much time to waste. And now when I open my mail I can't wait to see what's new and what's happening within the M/M romance community. There are so many wonderful books from which to choose my TBR list becomes longer each month. I have two Kobo e-readers, the Look Book and the regular Kobo, and my libraries are filled with more books than I ever dreamed I'd read.

I've also seen M/M authors bond together in ways I never could have predicted four or five years ago. We used to be set apart from each other and didn't have opportunities to communicate. But I've seen contests like The Rainbow Awards grow into positive representations of what all M/M authors are striving toward with their hard work. This includes cover artists and models as well. And no matter how busy anyone is, there's always time to help out a fellow author. Sometimes it comes in the form of offering advice, other times it comes in the form of providing support. The energy has become explosive; you can almost feel it everywhere you go these days on the Internet.

From social networks to personal blogs, almost all M/M authors are selflessly dedicated to creating changes and making positive moves that promote a better quality of life to the entire lgbt community. Some have become involved in wonderful organizations that provide support for people living with HIV and AIDS. Others have offered support to PETA and other animal rights organizations. I can't list all the organizations; it would take too long. Readers benefit, too. They get chances to win free digital readers and free e-books and communicate one on one with their favorite authors. And publishers are working with their authors in order to please their readers.

And the wonderful reviews sites that have popped up in the past four or five years that support the M/M community have become positive places where authors and readers can browse and learn information they wouldn't normally be able to find in bookshops and newspapers. In fact, there's so much information out there I set time aside to read these sites for pleasure most of the time. What used to be hard work is now something we look forward to doing.

If the changes that have happened recently are any indication of the changes yet to come, there's a lot to look forward to in the future. And I think that's what's going to happen. I get e-mails at least three or four times a week from new M/M authors asking questions about publishers, social media, and how to get started writing M/M fiction. And from what I've seen, there are a lot of great writers yet to come. They have fresh voices, creative concepts, and new approaches that haven't been done yet.

It's probably one of the best times to be part of a publishing community in the history of publishing. I don't know what it's like with other genres, but I hope they are experiencing the same exciting energy we're all experiencing in the M/M romance community.

Ryan Field
Romance Author
www.ryan-field.blogspot.com
rfieldj@aol.com

What is it about a bad boy?

2011-05-17T07:59:00.001-07:00

There’s just something about a bad boy that sets something off inside me that I can’t explain in a few words. I’m not talking about “bad boys” who commit crimes such as murder, theft, rape, and the like. I’m talking about Bad Boys who can make you lose all thought, that can make you week kneed and breathless with just a look. The sort who use their voice to command the simplest of requests or the most demanding ones—they get me every time. The one’s who push the limits and don’t follow the norm as described by the general public of today’s society or that of yesterday’s. The one’s who dare you to tell them they are bad.

He can be that bad boy lawyer who comes within inches of over stepping the legal lines to prove his client innocent or guilty. He can be that bad boy doctor who refuses to settle on a diagnosis because it “seems” to fit his patient’s aliments and he has a full slate and a full social life. He can even be the taxi driver who pushes his luck to get his client to their destination without getting tickets on the way. Or, he can be the Dom in a relationship and this is where I’ll drive this particular short.

To me a Dom in a relationship is the “Bad Boy,” who pushes the limits on his partner. Never an easy person to read by any means. He’ll play on the edge with your emotions, your physical and sometimes mental limits. A bad boy who takes pleasure from your discomfort and sometimes pain. It fills his needs as well as your own. Why is it so fascinating to me that simple commands from a well-rounded Dom makes me quiver? Is it his eyes? The way he uses his voice? The way he expects obedience without question? What is it about that bad boy that just makes me pause and catch my breath? Honestly, if the guy says: “Drop your pants…(he is holding a flogger of some sort in his hand and gently hitting his thigh with it, warning you of what’s coming) face the wall and get on your knees...” My own excitement level goes UP. There have been times I’ve had to place the book down to catch my breath.

Now, none of that placing the book down catch the breath happens when I read a contemporary novel that is on the bestseller list in the New York Times. Nope, it only happens when I grab up a hot M/M book with a strong Alpha male and a sweet non-alpha male. Picture a Dom Vampire, with a submissive human. Talk about Bad Boy! Or, take two hot Vampires, both Dom’s trying to make their love work, something like, Mychael Black’s “Dark Needs.”

Or let’s switch over to a Het story and think Johanna Lindsey and her Alpha bad boys. For years I glued my eyes to her books, falling for all of her “bad boys,” the ones who kidnapped the women who would eventually fall in love with them. I loved the part of the kidnappings, the seduction of the “innocent” virgin, but quickly grew bored with the innocent and the damsel in distress plot. I needed more; I needed something else and didn’t find it until I switched over to the MM Genre. And boy-oh-boy did I find treasures. I believe I spent a small fortune buying the stories up.

When I stepped into the MM world first as a writer, then stepping it up to become a reviewer as well, I could not get enough of the BDSM titles read fast enough. It is well known it’s what I read/ review for the site and if we receive a request for a review I take them like a tiny goblin in the night and savor them until I am able to get to them. I like my bad boys on the darker side of life, same as I write. It’s not to say I don’t enjoy a sweet love story by any means, but if we have a bad boy linked in it, you can bet I’m loving him a tiny bit more.

There’s a mystery behind the bad boy’s eyes, be they black, blue, gray, purple, or green, there’s just something that you can’t read about them no matter how hard you look. You hear or read the words of command and for a moment you can get lost in that because in “real” life you’re nothing like the characters. Maybe in real life you’re the stronger one in your relationship and just for a little while you can get lost in the world of fiction bad boys. They’re safe to admire from there. In real life I could not give up control the way the characters do so well in fiction stories to the bad boys. It’s nice to dream though.

I love the mystery, allure, and the complexity of a bad boy. Someone who takes the initiative to show his partner another way of life without breaking the law and ending up in jail. Someone who can comfortably take control not only for himself but also for his partner with complete surety in his actions. Someone who can love with his whole being and still be that bad boy.

In BDSM stories, the limits are always pushed and to me a Bad Boy does just that: pushes the limits.

Thanks for reading,

Michele L Montgomery

Q & A with DC Juris

2011-04-25T03:38:00.000-07:00

Hi folks! ::waves:: DC Juris here!

So, I must confess, I couldn't come up with a single thing to write about this morning. Or rather, I came up with about a hundred things, but they all seemed stupid. LOL

I thought what I'd do instead, is post some reader questions that I've received in e-mails or messages, and the answers I gave. Sort of a mini interview, but by the readers. Kind of. Anyhow, here it is!

Q: I loved Calliph's name! How do you come up with character names?

A: It depends. Sometimes, if I'm stuck on a name, I'll ask my husband, and just keep shooting down suggestions until he lands on something I really like. Also, I'm fond of taking my friends names and screwing them around until something interesting comes out of it. Calliph's name is a combination of my friend Phillip's first and last name.

Q: You write a lot but you have a day job, right? How do you stay focused on writing and not let the real world intrude?

A: For me, writing is a constant. It's something I do everyday, all the time, even if I can't physically get the information out of my head. For instance, right now, I'm thinking in my head “he typed” after each sentence. When people speak to me, I follow their words with mental additions of my own, such as “he said, raising an eyebrow at me in annoyance.” I literally live my life in a book, so there isn't a point when I'm not writing. I've learned over the years to scribble what I can, when I can. I write on scraps of paper, napkins, envelopes – whatever. Back in the day, when I worked for Publix supermarkets in Florida, I wrote whole stories on Presto slips, which are about the size of a personal check in length, and not as wide. :-)

Q: How do you make up your characters?

A: I don't. They come to me fully formed, of their own accord, and tell me about themselves. I don't sit down and think, “I'm going to write a story about a werewolf.” My characters just tap me on the shoulder and start talking.

Q: How do you keep all your characters straight (no pun intended!!)?

A: The same way I keep all the people in my life straight - I just know them. I do have notebooks for each couple, but I haven't as of yet made any character outlines, or anything like that. They're like my friends. I just know them.

Q: You write about a lot of kinky sh*t. Do you do any of that stuff?

A: Some of it. ::grin::

Q: Will you marry me? (Seriously…this was a question.)

A: No. Maybe. Buy me dinner and we'll talk.

Q: I downloaded your memoir from your website and it made me cry. Did all that stuff really happen? Did your family, like your extended family, not know enough to help you? How did you go from there to where you are now? What kept you going to get here?

A: Yep, it all happened. My extended family knew some of what was occurring. You have to realize, we lived over an hour from all of them, so it wasn't like they were at our house all the time. That being said, most of them did know the conditions I was living in, and no, they didn't help.

I got from there to here by perseverance and seeking to better myself through all avenues available. I moved out of my parents' house as soon as I could. I got therapy and anger management. What kept me going was that I didn't want to be a statistic - I wanted to be that guy who people would say, "you'd never know he'd been abused." I didn't want my past to dictate my future.

That's all for now. Thanks for stopping by!

~DC

YOU NEVER CARED by Michele Montgomery...a Free Download, Too!

2011-04-18T07:20:00.000-07:00

I had the privilege of reading Michele Montgomery's new story, YOU NEVER CARED, and I was pleasantly surprised. I'm a fan of a lot of Michele's books, which include one of my all time favorites, TONY AND RYAN. But this book, YOU NEVER CARED, really drew me in because the storyline revolves around young adults, social images, and bullying. And, as always, Michele's books are written with a neat style that keeps the story moving forward at all time.

This line hit me fast: I never realized what my words and actions could do to another person. This is where the magnitude of what he's been doing hits Jordon, the one who is telling the story.

This time the story is told from the bully's POV, and how he regrets his decisions. He's tired of being what his father thinks he should be. And he's tired of trying to live up to everyone's expectations of what they think he should be. But more than that, he knows in his heart he's been wrong all along. And, this is why I love Michele's work. It's filled with emotion on all levels.

Another line that stopped me short for a moment was this: That was the worst of it for me at that moment, watching Samuel deal with the loss of the guy he loved, and it was all because of me. Jordon's talking about Sammy's dead lover, Casper. And I could feel Jordon's regret as I read this.

Once in a while we read something that inspires us. YOU NEVER CARED did this for me. This is a story about facing demons and regret, growing up and learning tolerance...even if it's a little too late in some cases. And that every single action in the universe...karma...causes a reaction in one way or another. But most of all, it's a story about redemption. And it's never too late for that.

Here's a quick blurb, and the story can be downloaded for free here.
I can't recommend it enough to all readers.

Jordan is a golden child—wealthy, popular, the self-professed ruler of the senior class. Jordan is also a bully, a bully whose group of friends mercilessly tormented seventeen-year-old Casper for being different, for being poor, for suffering silently. Random acts of abuse from his classmates were par for the course in Casper’s life, until one night, the bullying evolved into a hate crime and he, unable to endure, longing for peace, finally took his own life.

You Never Cared is the heartbreaking tale, told in Jordan’s words, of a life stolen, of love lost, and of a soul compromised. But ultimately, it is a story of forgiveness and redemption. As Sammy, Casper’s friend and lover, attempts to cope with the anguish of his boyfriend’s loss, Jordan attempts to own his part in the crime, trying to make amends but knowing his only hope is to carry on Casper’s legacy, to work to build a better future for boys and girls who, like Casper, just need a strong voice to encourage and stand up for them.

Thanks for stopping by!

~Ryan Field

Rainbow Book Fair

2011-03-28T04:53:00.000-07:00

I think it was a success!

AMR had a table for the first time. MANY people stopped by to say hello to our authors. There were books for sale, many leaflets and flyers, and a CD for free pdfs. A wonderful friend stopped by-- thank you Damon :D Your company was greatly appreciated and enjoyed by all!!

Hopefully this will be on the to-do list for next March!

Did any of you stop by? Did you enjoy the fair?

xoxox

Inspiration

2011-03-22T11:42:00.000-07:00

Where do you get yours?

I often think of the movie Finding Neverland. In that, the script has JM Barrie musing over things he notices and lines he hears. In one scene, the grandmother is scolding the children and in his mind he envisions a hook. So this mean grandmother's chastisement would become the basis for which he wrote a very memorable foe. (IF you take the movie for what it symbolizes.) JM was a writer that saw things, every thing, through a writer's eye.

Do you?

I think of so many things in my own life and how they can manifest through creativity and imagination. I could see writing a pirate with a hook from that very scene JM Barrie witnessed. It is different than writing a harsh grandmother. That would be too straight forward. A writer, a good writer, doesn't have to be direct. They take life as it comes to them and they can twist it into any shape imaginable. Especially the paranormal writers...

Ones like JL Langley. (Yes, I'm writing about her again)
I read With Abandon today. I loved it. completely loved it. She seems to get better with each passing book. I was originally saddened that she was writing about Matt. I, like so many other fans, longed to read about Sterling. (LOVE Sterling.) But this book blew me away. I think it is my favorite by far. The chemistry between Matt and Aubrey way breathtaking. I hated that the story ended. I wanted more pages. But, also true to JL, she wrote just enough. There were twists and turns and things going on I didn't expect and then the story came to a pleasant end. I don't know about you, but I HAVE read stories that didn't know WHEN to end. It is bad when the reader WANTS the story to end already!

With Abandon was awesome. Totally worth waiting for! and of course now I have to wait for Without Fear. (I hate waiting JL)

but during the wait... JL is an inspiration. Her language and description are so vivid. She is a master at her art and I hope we can all be inspired by her wonderful writing. She makes me think. She makes it so easy to SEE the story played out. Isn't that what writers want to give their readers?

My advise for the day... Go read With Abandon. You will thank me.

all for now. I know it is short :s

~T

xoxo

I also wrote on my goodreads page:
I think With Abandon may be may favorite m/m romance book. I'm not sure. I may have to read it again soon to decide. So hard to say for sure because it runs against some really awesome ones.Def in the top 5! So if I had to live on a deserted Island I would take...

With Abandon
Crossing Borders
Love Means... no Boundaries
Willow Bend
and.... ? Tin Star? With Caution ? Collision Course?

AHHHH! I can't decide.

Revisiting an old Favorite

2011-03-14T07:27:00.000-07:00

In light of the newest review of Sculpting Clay, I decided to write a short blog about one of my favorite books.

Sculpting Clay by Linda Reilly

It is a very cute story and I gave it 5 stars on goodreads.com

Like MizLove (link to her blog below) I truly fell in love with Taran AND Clay! Taran is a very sweet, innocent, and endearing character. Definitely one of my fav characters of all time. I would LOVE to read more about him! *hint, hint, Linda*

I have read this book several times. It is an easy read. Linda is not the most complicated of writers. In my opinion she plots well and has a soft voice. There are some grammatical errors and a HUGE faux pas when spelling "Greenwich Village". (I'm sure she feels bad about that one.) But all "mistakes" aside, it is a wonderful story and pleasant read. I highly recommend it! If you've read it, leave a comment on goodreads OR below this blog!

So when DO you re-read a book? What makes you so drawn in that that ONE (or several) has to be read again and again? For me it is memorable characters, hot sex, or a book that grabs my emotions and won't let go! Sculpting clay really had my emotions AND I loved the characters! On goodreads I have listed books I've read more than once. (I also have a "favorites" shelf.) Among the repeats are Light of The Body by Mark Alders, Love Means... No Shame by Andrew Grey, Love Means... No Boundries also by Andrew Grey, Without Reservations and the sequel With Caution by JL Langley, Str8 Boys by Evangeline Anderson, Crossing Borders by ZA Maxfield, Willow Bend by Ally Blue, Drawn Together by ZA Maxfield, Altered Heart by Kate Steele, Tin Star by JL Langley, Custom Ride by KA Mitchell, and Hot Ticket also by KA Mitchell.

I like reading books more than once. It is like watching a movie over again. YES, you've seen in and you generally know what is going to happen, but it is also new. I say NEW because often times you pick up on details you never noticed before. Many times I read fast. Like super fast, almost skimming. I lack time to read often so I breeze through to see if it is worth a second read or SLOW read. (being honest here, this is partially why I do not really "review" books on goodreads.) When I notice fun "secondary characters" I definitely slow down. I want to know why they are special? Tigers and Devils by Sean Kennedy has some great secondary Characters! So does Bareback by Chris Owen. (I really liked Elias and wanted more from him!)

Hot Sex... What makes it HOT for you? How they "do it", how they FINALLY "do it" (in the case of friends become lovers), or who they do it WITH? (like 'manage-a-trois') ... Although I love sex scenes, I do find some books over do it. Sorry if that disappoints :( I have read a couple books, and I will not name them as I hate to "put down" a book, but I just got tired of reading because it was all sex and no plot. I like PLOT! There has to be a reason they are having the sex. I am in it for the story. I want the romance, I want the heartache, I want fights and breakups and make-up sex, but what I personally do not like is sex scene after sex scene and nothing in between. Give me a reason they keep going at it like rabbits! (other than testosterone.) What makes it hot for me is if I can feel it. (I know, that sounds so dirty.) But if the characters bring a scene alive, or the whole book for that matter, to where I can experience what they feel, then I am going to get hot when they do! That is what I like in a good writer. Make me HOT in the right spots, and sob buckets in others.

What marks a re-read to me? A book that can make me cry, laugh, roll my eyes, yell at the character, and when to need arises--change my underwear!

(Perhaps I need to set this blog to 18+? What do you think?)

Miz Love Books reviews lots of things. Check them out. And while you are there read their review of Sculpting Clay.

Ciao for now,
Tristan

http://mizlovelovesbooks.blogspot.com/2011/03/sculpting-clay-by-linda-reilly.html

TBR pile

2011-02-27T04:41:00.000-08:00

Hello all,

Gosh, has it been THAT long since I posted? This month just flew by! I'm am sort of glad though as I am super tired of winter. Bring on Spring!!

I have been writing blogs about different authors I have read. More specifically, the ones associated with the All Male Romance website. However, I have not read too many things lately. So I thought I would talk about that.

My "To Be Read" (TBR) pile is very long and contains more books that I have time to read. Does that happen to any of you? LOL. I am sure it has. When on Dreamspinner Press or Samhain Publishing or Extasy Books or Ravenous Romance etc.. It is easy to think, "Wow, I want to read that!" and add it to you cart. The cart then becomes several, if not more, books deep and you checkout with every intention of reading all of then ASAP! Then life happens. Dinner, laundry, job, showering, sleeping, eating, kids, spouses, and the list continues; everything to jump in the way of reading that favorite author or much desired book. At least this is what happens to me.

I have books from Ryan Field, Serena Yates, Chris Owen, Christina Loren, SJ Frost, DC Juris, Rachel Haimowitz, Chloe Stowe, Hal Bodner, Rick Reed, Andrea Speed, Ariel Trachna, Mark Alders, Mary Calmes, and Felicia Watson which are just sitting in my "books" folder waiting to be read. AND THESE ARE JUST THE ONES I'VE PURCHASED ALREADY! I have so many more that I see and think, "mmm I just don't have time right now..." Life goes so fast sometimes.

Here winter has been a pain. Lots of snow. I don't know about you but snow messes up my daily routine. I like routine. I need routine and a set time in my day when I can rad, write, or chill without having to go and do for someone else. I need "me time" and I rarely get it.

The only book I squeezed in lately is The Nourisher by Mark Alders. I already did a blog about Mark so I didn't want to play favorites :s I do love Mark though. He has such an imagination! Never in the world would I have thought reading spider sex could be hot! But when Mark writes it, anything can be hot. And not only that, but it can seem normal and endearing. Vernon is an awesome spider! So, my little plug for Mark is: GO READ THE NOURISHER! (sold though Extasy books)

Today like most days is a run run run day. Always. No time to read. So, think of me, Tristan, and go read one for me. Message me on Goodreads and let me know what you read! I have lots to recommend. I MAY even start writing short reviews about what I thought about the ones I already read and rated on goodreads.com

For now--CIAO!

Tristan ;)
xoxo

Braden Williams

2011-02-05T05:50:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about a book I recently read by Braden Williams. Originally I gave it a 3 star rating on goodreads. I had to re-rate it, and I'll tell you why.

I'll start with my weird-brain rating system. You'll probably notice I don't "review" the books I read and rate. Mostly this is because I feel I have very little intelligent sounding words to write a proper review. (I lack confidence I guess.) I think, "Should I have a formal 'scale' to assess books or should I go with my gut on placing a STAR on something I've read?" I find it hard to evaluate some and WAY easy for others. Most of the time I wish they had 1/2 star ratings as I think it would make the decision easier.

Like for instance... Light of the Body or Crossing Borders or With Caution... These I knew instantly they were 5 Stars! Why? They suck you in and keep you there; hanging on every word! When I can't get enough, or can't read fast enough that is a definite 5 Star! 4 is still an interesting read, I really liked it, but it just didn't sweep me away in a torrent like the "5 STAR" ones do. I tent to rate many books a 4 star mainly because I feel a 3 is saying something to the author that I didn't really like it. What SHOULD a 3 Star be? I liked it, but may not read it again? It was okay, but I hoped for better? I am not sure. 2 Star is probably a "I didn't like it much" rating; I don't think I have any of those. And a 1 Star? Well, if I just can't finish a book because it's that bad should I even rate it?

I know... I wrote a blurb on the AMR website about "rating books!" so I should give the 1 star if I have to.

So, Braden... Gone Stumping was a very fine read. I liked it. It was cute, it was interesting, and I like that a man wrote gay men. (So often straight women write about gay men, but that is another topic for another time.) I like that it is a man's prospective on men. I also liked the political elements, I was not expecting them. Nice. It was suspenseful enough with wondering how and why the vandalizing happened. (although this is NOT a suspense novella.) I liked the realistic pull of each man toward the other and how they get together finally. It was a very cute story :)

Why did I change my rating? 3 to a 4... Well, I liked it. But that was it. It was nice enough to keep me going and short enough I was not bored. Would I read it again? Maybe. So -- 3 Star. But then I kept THINKING about it! The story stuck with me. I think I even had a partial dream about something IN the story. When my brain kept revisiting the tale of Rafe and Aiden I had to reassess my feelings over it. 3 wasn't fair. I OBVIOUSLY liked it more than that. This is why I'd like the 1/2 rating because if I gave it 3.5 I probably would have been good with that. 4 stars I gave to Str8t Boys and Oleander House and Promises and Lies; does Gone Stumping's quality measure up to those? I'm not sure it does.

This is why I never review a book. Every review would sound the same. I liked it alot! I liked it. It was good. Not so good. etc... PLUS, I hate to sound like I am diss'ing the author!

I liked Braden's style. It was straight-forward and breezy. It carried me along very nicely. I would read something else by him any day!

This was Braden's first publication. Does he have another novel in him? Is he working on it NOW? I haven't heard from him in a long while. I hope he is deep in creating something wonderful. I encourage all of you readers out there, if you are looking for a sweet romantic tale between two realistically written men, go purchase Gone Stumping from Dreamspinner Press. It just might make you smile.

Ciao for now,
Tristan

J L Langley

2011-01-25T11:57:00.000-08:00

Today I revisited an old favorite: Without Reservations by J L Langley.

It has been a number of years since I bought this book, and I have read it several times, but my enjoyment of the characters does not diminish. J L is a master at what she does. This was the first werewolf book I'd purchased and I did so in paperback because the description on Amazon was intriguing. (I mostly by eBook. Less cumbersome.) WELL WORTH THE $16.00 OR SO. I was sucked in from page one.

The characters of Chay and Keaton are very memorable. I love Keaton's pig-headed nature and the way Chay is just not going to take no for an answer (time and time again). There is also the way JL builds the anticipation of when these two will finally come together and work through their differences. You're dying for that second kiss and about on the edge just like they are until they "hook up". They want and need each other so bad it makes the readers mouth water.

And Without Reservations is just the beginning of it!!

WR introduces a guy named Remi. Remi is for all intensive purposes an ass. He's loud, obnoxious, judgmental, and doesn't treat Keaton very well at all. Leave it to JL to write the next novel about him: With Caution. THIS IS ANOTHER OF MY ALL TIME FAVORITES!

With Caution is awesome. Remi MAY have been a jerk initially but you fall hard for him in this novel. You can't help it. He's been through a LOT of shit in his life. And at the end of the other novel (WR) you see that things are going to get harder for the poor guy. Namely, his mate is a man and Remi was less than accepting of Chay's new lifestyle choice. (Although the mate situation is not exactly a choice any wolf makes.) I love love love the way Remi and Jake interact. Jake KNOWS they are meant for eachother but trys hard to break it to Remi gently. But Remi is a hot headed guy.

Remi ALSO has an amazing younger brother that plays just as much a role in With Caution as Remi. The two of them are very strong parts of the other. With Caution is a MUST READ!!!!

the younger brother though has to be my favorite character. Sterling has more personality then most characters I have ever read. I just love him! Funny, gutsy, energetic, this guy has everything. So it is no wonder that JL has a book thought out for him as well. Without Fear will be written eventually and for us die hard fans we will wait on the edge of our seats waiting.

JL will release her next book in this With or Without series in March. With Abandon is Matt's story. He was cute enough in WC and I will not mind at all taking a "Sterling detour" and reading about Matt first. I just love JL's werewolves!!!

So. That is all for now. I'll write again when the next muse hits me.
In the mean time, post this blog around, we have I think 4 followers :p

Tristan

Mark Alders

2011-01-15T07:10:00.000-08:00

Mark alders is a very imaginative man. I am not sure how many of you have read his books but you should! You are in for a treat.

His creativity knows no bounds. From cock-docking to unicorn sex you never know what you will find. However, it is all erotic and all absorbingly entertaining!

I "met" Mark online years ago. He was virtually unknown then, trying his hand on a writer's website to test the waters of possibility. Would the world like his humor and his out-of-the-ordinary plot-lines? He needed to see what kind of reception he would get. From ME he got platitudes of praise. I'd never imagined the things he wrote about. He was fresh and new and different! He brought exciting new ideas to the written world. And eXtasy books saw a gold mine.

Since his very first debut novel Call of the Hunted in January 2009, Mark has had immense success. The Pembroke Eve Chronicles, a five book series, was my personal favorite so far. Mark has wonderful characters! This is what makes his books so appealing. The reader is sucked into the minds and lives of each and every character and never wants the story to end.

Today he has yet another new release. Waves of Infinity

I encourage you all to visit eXtasy books and grab a copy now! It is already at the top of the charts for sales! This is just how good Mark is! The book comes out and soars to the top! He is an outstanding author, humorous creator, and all around wonderful man.

Do yourself a favor and buy Waves of Infinity. An experimental spaceship. An accident. The adventure of a lifetime...

ttfn,
Tristan

Andrew Grey

2011-01-10T07:13:00.000-08:00

Hello,

Back for a second blog. I am on a roll. a small kaiser roll maybe....

Anyway.

I recently read Love Means... No Fear by Andrew Grey. On goodreads.com I gave it 5 stars.

Andrew Grey is a phenomenal writer as well as a very sweet man. He has a lot of insight in his novels. I appreciate it. Fear is something so many people face. Of the 5 novels in this series I have a hard time picking a favorite. LM... No Shame, No Boundaries, No Fear are all special to me for different reasons.

No Shame puts out the question of having no shame in who you are and who you love. No Fear goes hand in hand with that; you should not be afraid of loving either. This is so hard for some to accept. (Sadly) Love is Love. I think Love is precious and very hard to find sometimes. If more people embraced love instead of acting out on hate this world would be a different place. Both of these stories are inspiring and beautifully written and I enjoyed every page.

LM... No Boundaries is a favorite for other reasons. Whereas I love the Robbie character, it is the WAY Andrew wrote this that got me. To me, the book was written without visuals. Robbie is blind. As I read No Boundaries I felt like I was not "seeing it" but "feeling" it. Andrew wrote this through a sense of blindness. I could be wrong. Maybe it was just me who felt this while reading it. No matter what, it will always be a special book in my mind because of his cleaver style.

Andrew is amazing.

Love Means... No Fear was wonderful and cute and sweet. I loved Jonah and his strong personality! So gutsy. He seized what he wanted. I need his fortitude at times.

All around this is a HUGE recommend to all who read m/m romance.

ttfn,

Tristan

http://www.allmaleromance.com/andrew-grey.php

A New Year

2011-01-06T10:27:00.001-08:00

In thinking about all that has transpired in the past year, I have decided to blog. I tried last year but frankly, I rarely have anything interesting to say. I am, however, going to try to write something at least once a week. Perhaps these ramblings will end up being about the authors on this site? Perhaps they will be observances of mine? Time will tell. Check back often. Poke around the author pages.

Hugs to all and here is to a hopeful and bright new year!

Tristan