Friday, June 26, 2015

Welcome author Michael Mandrake

I'd like to welcome author Michael Mandrake to my blog today.   Let's find out more about "Reconnection"   And check out the article at the bottom of this post "More or Less Sex in M/M".



Blurb: Every once in a while, the average looking guy scores!

Robert McIntyre is a closeted, average looking sports columnist for the Daily Read. Unfortunately, his desire to stay in has cost him the chance at love more than once. However, now it seems his luck will change since his editor has asked him to interview, Jake Valenta. Jake and Robert knew one another in college and when he heard from a mutual friend that Jake might be bisexual, Robert didn’t believe him.

Before Robert’s trip, they discover a mutual affection for one another. Jake shares his desire to stay behind closed doors because he can’t stand being called a fag, but desperately wants Robert to be his man.

Robert and Jake want a chance to reconnect on a more personal level, but will this budding relationship ruin their careers?

Buylinks


Excerpt

“Hey Larry, Jacob said you wanted to see me?”
Larry looked up from his laptop. “Yeah Robert, come on in.”
I closed the door and waltzed in, worried about what he’d say. Would he hound me about the deadline or force me to write about the lockout? I hoped neither because I seriously wasn’t in the mood to argue.
“So, Robert. I know you have a deadline in a couple of hours but I’m willing to let that go if you’d make a trip to the minors. Since the overpriced sissies don’t wanna play, we’ll make our own story. Besides, Jake Valenta might come up and play for the Sox this year if they reach an agreement and we want to be the first to cover him.”
Jake?
I ignored Larry’s comment and focused on the topic at hand.
Jake?
Instantly my mind went to mush upon hearing that name. Jake and I attended Oklahoma State with two years between us. Though we never dated, we did hang around the same circles, mostly involving sports. Baseball was his passion and mine, though I wasn’t as talented as he was on the field. Since my expertise was behind the pen and or microphone, I called a couple of games he played in and before I graduated, I interviewed him for the school paper. That same article was later published in the town’s local newspaper. 
Now, Jake plays for the Sox triple A affiliate, Carolina Dukes of the southern league. Though we haven’t talked in years, I’ve followed the guy’s career and took a greater interest when he was selected with the fifteenth pick in June 2011. The experts raved about his speed, accurate throwing arm, and hitting ability as well as his baseball acumen and stamina. Unfortunately his transition wasn’t as easy as many predicted but now, he was tearing up minor league pitching and set to make the move to the pros.
“Robert?”
“I’m sorry, Larry. I…I was just thinking about something.” When the heat rushed to my cheeks, I turned my attention elsewhere. Anything so my boss wouldn’t notice me jumping for joy about covering baseball’s next phenom.
Larry appeared perplexed by my answer. He shrugged, “Well Robert, I need you to get focused on this trip. I want you to get the story on this young man. And I figured since the two of you went to school together you’ll get him to talk.”


About the Muse and Author

Michael Mandrake pens complex characters already comfortable with their sexuality. Thorough these, he builds worlds not centered on erotica but rather the mainstream plots we might encounter in everyday life through personal experiences or the media.

To find out more please visit Michael Mandrake at Wordpress

Author Sharita Lira: In one word, crazy. Just crazy enough to have 3 4 different muses running around in her head, driving her to sheer exhaustion with new plot bunnies and complex characters.

In addition to being a computer geek and a metalhead, Sharita loves live music, reading, and perusing the net for sexy men to be her muses.  She’s also a founding member and contributor to the heavy metal ezine Fourteeng.net.

For more information, please visit http://www.thelitriad.com as well as her Facebook fanpage, The Literary Triad.




More or Less Sex in M/M
Michael Mandrake aka Sharita Lira

Thanks for checking in with me today. I’m discussing sex in m/m and should there be more books sex or less? We had a discussion on a friends page a few weeks back and plenty of readers chimed in. With all the different responses, I decided I’d add my two cents about what I’ve seen as a reader as well as an author.

Let’s start out with the reader side of me. The reader in me likes a lot of sex. I want sex dripping from the pages and I want it so hot, my toes curl and I get that warm feeling in my gut. That being said, I like it to go along with the plot. Not page after page with no real direction and not for the sake of throwing it in there either. There has to be a reason why my two characters get together. Are they drawn to one another because of attraction? Or is it that and the fact they lost someone in their lives and are looking for the next special someone. Do they hate one another at first then eventually fall in lust or love?

The author in me is much the same, but lately I like to make my characters wait until they’re completely crazy for one another before I allow them to go to bed. Yes, it’s like punishment for them and even sometimes for me. *laughs* I can feel the tension between the characters and when I get done writing a chapter, I tell them and my muse we all have to wait. *sigh* Yep, I like them to be just about ready to explode when they’re finally ready for the first bedroom scenes. And when they do get there, I try my best to make it satisfying for all of us. Not an easy feat when you think about it. And then try making it original. Good luck with all that, but I do try. *smiles*

So, in conclusion, I have to pose it to you the audience. Do you like more sex in your m/m or less? Or are you like me, sex happens because of the plot and making them suffer is better. Let me know your thoughts.





Friday, June 19, 2015

Welcome author Cheryl Headford

I'd like to welcome author Cheryl Headford to my blog.  Let's find out about her book  "Ari."

Release Day Blitz – Ari by Cheryl Headford
Title:  Ari
Author: Cheryl Headford
Genre: LGBT, romance, transgender, intersex, M/M, F/F
Length: Novel
Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing
Synopsis
After having known each other online for some time, writers, Benji and Ari meet at a convention.
Their attraction is both immediate and mutual.
But all is not straightforward—Ari is intersex and Benji transgender.
Together they embark on a journey.
A journey that unites families, and heals old wounds.
But not everyone is happy with the blossoming love between these two unique and special individuals.
Will an act of aggression crush the flower before it can bloom?
Book trailer
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Buy Links
Excerpt
MY EYES slammed open to a world gone mad. Bella barked as an enormous flash of light was followed immediately by a god-awful bang and rumble that shook the house on its foundations. Before I quite got my bearings, another brilliant flash of lightning blinded me and thunder cracked and rolled down the valley. I yelled at Bella for howling, cursed her for waking me—then I checked the clock.
“Jesus. Marc, it’s ten past five. We slept in. We have to get up. Now.”
“Benji?” Marc’s sleepy voice was sharp with alarm. He cried out with terror when another flash of lightning was followed by a deep boom and the lights flickered.
“Benji?”
“It’s okay. I’m here. It’s just a thunderstorm. We need to get going. We slept late.”
Marc jumped up and scampered around the bed to hug me tight. The dog was still whining and yipping, clearly unhappy, and the rain absolutely hammered.
“Typical,” I grumbled as I pried my little brother off me and headed for the bathroom. Marc followed, so close he tripped me.
“Whoa. You can’t go in the bathroom with me.”
“But I’m scared.” He underlined his words with a yelp when another round of thunder and lightning rolled over us.
“You can’t come in the shower, so don’t be silly. I’ll leave the door open, okay? You can sit on the stairs, or in your room.”
Marc was unhappy, but I managed to take a quick shower. As soon as he was able he came in, sat on the closed toilet, and watched me do my hair.
“You have very pretty hair.”
“What’s brought this on? You’re usually criticizing.”
“You shouldn’t complain. You should take compliments where you can get them, at your age.”
“Cheeky bugger. I’m not old.”
“You are, compared to me.”
“Only by seven years. I’m still a teenager.”
“Only for four weeks.”
“Then I’ll have to make the most of it while I can.”
About the author
CHERYL HEADFORD was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.
Cheryl has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.
Later in life, Cheryl became the storyteller for a re-enactment group who traveled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.
It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.
In present times, Cheryl lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son and her two cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. The part of her that needs to earn money is a lawyer, but the deepest, and most important part of her is a storyteller and artist, and always will be.
Twitter: @SevenPointStar


Monday, June 15, 2015

Welcome author Grace R. Duncan

I'd like to welcome author Grace R. Duncan to my blog today. Let's check out her book
"Turning His Life Around."

Turning His Life Around 


Can Kane recognize what's right in front of him before he loses everything?

When Kane Harris’s world turns upside down, his lifelong best friend is the only one to catch him.
Years ago, Ian Kelly accepted Kane would never return his love, since he knows Kane believes he’s incapable of it. Ian is willing to settle for what he can get—a best friend, sometimes casual lover, and occasional submissive. He's learned he can’t live without Kane, but he can’t let Kane know. Because when, not if, Kane confirms that Ian’s love will never be returned, Ian won’t be able to take it. But when Kane loses his job and asks Ian to step up their play to help him deal, Ian’s ability to hide his feelings falters. Then Kane starts his own computer security firm and asks Ian to join him, and Ian struggles further.
It’s not until they visit the exclusive BDSM club the Iron Door that things come to a head. Kane screws up big time, and he’s afraid he can’t fix it. He’s sure he’ll lose his best friend, his Dom, his everything… forever.

Excerpt:
IAN COAXED his ancient Toyota into the parking spot next to Kane’s Accord and shut off the engine. He was exhausted. He’d gotten into a fight with the IT director again, was given another project to work on with the database developer whom he hated with a passion, and had been forced to sit through no less than three completely useless meetings in the afternoon. All he wanted to do was eat something and go kill something. Not necessarily in that order.
He dragged himself out of the car and locked it, tossing his bag over his shoulder. He trudged up the steps, giving a halfhearted wave at their elderly neighbor, a sweet old lady not entirely with it anymore. She was out on her balcony in little more than a nightgown, watering nearly dead plants. She smiled a wide, toothless smile and he gave a weak smile back.
He finally made it to the apartment door on the third floor. He slammed the door deliberately so Kane would know he was home, then kicked off his shoes, hung his keys up, and shed his jacket. He put it in the closet before heading down the hall.
Their living room wasn’t all that big, but they didn’t care. Half of it was taken up with their computer desks, stuffed next to each other and covering one entire wall. Opposite them was the large flat screen TV and entertainment center, complete with all three major gaming consoles, a home theater system, and large collection of movies and games. In front of the TV, between it and their desks, was the one piece of furniture they’d spent any real money on: their couch. They’d had more than a few friends crash with them, and they’d finally broken down and bought a decent one for them to sleep on. It had certainly come in handy a few times when they’d decided to fuck there in the living room too.
Ian shook his head at the thought and turned his attention to Kane. He had his headphones on and there was a battle going on the screen, one hand was on the keyboard, and the other was on the mouse.
“No, goddammit! He was… fuck. What do you mean you’re out of power? That’s not what I see! Just… send in the pet. Fine. Look, we’re in the bottom of fucking Moria. You can’t fuck around like that!”
Ian leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and watched the battle. There were way too many enemies for Kane’s group—he could see that from there.
Goddammit!” Kane shouted, ripping his headphones off and throwing them onto the desk.
“Pick-up group?” Ian asked.
Kane spun around, and Ian glanced over Kane’s shoulder to see his character’s corpse lying on the ground. “Yeah. Why do I get into them again?”
Ian shook his head. “I don’t know. They’re not usually that bad in Middle-earth, though, are they?”
“No, which is why I’m so pissed.” He sighed. “Must be the daytime players.”
“Want to order in tonight?” Ian asked, crossing the room to stand next to his friend.
“Chinese?” Kane looked up hopefully, and Ian laughed.
“Sure. If we can order from the place that does the sushi too.”
“Done!” Kane grinned and snatched at the menu he kept pinned to the small bulletin board over his desk. “How was your day?” he asked as he looked over the menu.
Ian sighed. “Long. Meetings all damned afternoon. I hate meetings. I hate people. And, um, don’t you have to deal with your group?” He pointed at the screen.
Kane shook his head. “No, I dropped it. I should port back, though.” He turned back to the computer and clicked a few things. His corpse revived, the pretty green swirls surrounded him, and the loading screen came up, complete with a twenty-four-inch version of a spider.
Ian shuddered and looked away. Instead, he turned to inspect his friend. He could tell something was bubbling under the olive skin and nearly black eyes. He knew it was very likely the old job, the new job hunt, and the frustration Kane was likely feeling over it. Kane always thought too much, spent way too much mental energy worrying about things.
“Did you work out today?” he asked, giving in and playing with a bit of Kane’s shaggy ebony hair.
“Yeah,” Kane said, and that one syllable told Ian enough: that while the workout might have done some, it most certainly wasn’t enough. He knew Kane would have gotten started on what he had to do, would have done what he felt he needed to, and hated every second of it. He was likely worried about money and not looking forward to working for another bullshit company with bullshit politics and bullshit people.
He knew his friend well.
They’d been friends since they were six. He’d met Kane one hot summer day behind his house, and from that point on, Kane had just always been there.
Kane spun back around in his chair and surprised Ian. He wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist and pulled until they were tight against each other, burying his face in Ian’s stomach.
“Kane?”
It’s not that they never hugged or touched. They did—quite often, in fact, for two people who weren’t committed lovers, but this was… different.
“Sorry. Just….” He didn’t continue, instead shook his head a little.
At a loss for what to do, Ian wrapped his arms around Kane’s shoulders.
They stayed that way for a few moments, and then Kane pulled back. “I’m sorry. Just overthinking things today.” He peered up at Ian. “And you’re tired. Let’s get dinner ordered. Want to play for a while?”
Ian considered him for a moment. As much as he wanted to log in and play too, he knew Kane’s current state of mind was not conducive to making any kind of progress. They’d end up dying more than once; then they’d get frustrated over it. Death in the game was relatively painless, but it was still annoying and inconvenient. Which would only serve to make things worse.
Maybe what he needed was another type altogether. “Maybe. Maybe what you need is a different kind of play tonight.” Ian watched Kane’s eyes. His pupils expanded just a bit and his breathing quickened. “Would you like that, pet?”
“Yes, Sir.” Kane’s voice was clear and deferent, his eyes dropping away.
Ian’s own breath quickened and he worked to get hold of himself. “Very well. Strip, get the cushion, and get on your knees. Wait here for me.”
“Yes, Sir,” Kane answered, voice already rough with anticipation, and as Ian stepped away, he hurried to obey.


About Grace:
Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination.  She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble.  Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.
A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States.  She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.
As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics.  She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Welcome guest author Renee Stevens

I'd like to welcome Renee Stevens to my blog today.   Let's find out more about her book
"No More Hiding."

Available for Pre-Order***



Blurb
Phillip Jorgensen tried to live the straight life and ended up divorced. But he wouldn’t trade his two kids, Jacob and Samantha, for the world. His ex-wife has kidnapped them and he's been searching for them for six long years. But he’s not giving up—never, not for anything. His twin brother has encouraged him to start living again, but how is he going to find romance with all his baggage?
When he meets Vance Pierce at the new gym, Phillip sees a chance to find some happiness.
Phillip has to explain the whole sordid mess to Vance and pray that he understands that he’ll never stop looking for his children. That’s easier said than done. Telling Vance might be risky. Is their connection strong enough to convince Vance to stay? Or will he think that Phillip is too damaged to love? This is Phillip's chance at the life he never thought he could have. But is it possible?

Excerpt
Bree was pulled away from him, and he was doused from head to toe in ice-cold water. He wiped his face and turned, only to be met by his brother’s laughing face.
“Hey there, little brother.” Robert smirked and pointed the hose at him.
“You’re so going to pay for that.” Phillip advanced. He was already drenched. It wasn’t like Robert could get him any wetter. “And you’re how much older? That’s right, ten minutes.”
“I’m still older.” Robert grinned evilly. He covered the tip of the hose with his thumb, and the ensuing spray engulfed Phillip. “Do you really think you can best me?”
“I think so,” Phillip answered with a mischievous grin as his gaze settled on movement behind Robert. Bree and Corey had gotten their hands on the other hose and were sneaking up on their dad. “You are going to get so wet,” Phillip warned. Seconds later the kids turned the hose on Robert, causing him to drop his own hose as he yelled in surprise. Phillip dove for it and proceeded to help them drench their dad. “You give yet?”
“Never.” Robert roared playfully. He launched himself at his brother, sending them both sprawling in the mud and struggling to gain control of the hose. Childish laughter reached their ears and water showered down on them, courtesy of Bree and Corey.
“On the count of three, you get Bree,” Robert whispered to his brother as they wrestled in the mud.
“Sounds good.” Phillip kept his own voice low enough that he couldn’t be overheard. They maneuvered until they were in a position where they could get to their feet quickly.
“One… two… three,” Robert yelled, and Phillip lunged to his feet next to Robert.

Author Bio
Renee Stevens first started writing in her teens but didn’t get serious about being an author until her mid-twenties.  Since then she’s written a number of contemporary stories, as well as delved into the paranormal.  When not writing, or spending time in the outdoors, Renee can usually be found working on GayAuthors.org in her capacity of admin and Anthology Coordinator.
Renee resides in Wyoming with her wonderfully supportive husband and a menagerie of four-legged critters.  Making the most of the nearly constant negative temperatures and mounds of snow, Renee spends much of the winter months in hibernation with her laptop, the voices in her head keeping her company while her husband works. When she needs a break from writing, Renee takes to the sewing machine to design, and make, beautiful quilts.
When the snow finally disappears, usually around May or June, Renee can be found in the great-outdoors.  She spends her time on the mountain, at the lake, and just anywhere that she can do some camping, take some photos, and ride the four-wheelers with her hubby.  Once back at home, it’s back to writing.

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Welcome author Julie Lynn Hayes

I'd like to welcome fellow author, and friend, Julie Lynn Hayes.  She has been a guest on my blog several times.

Let's find out more about her book "When Will I Be Loved."


Blurb:
Fairy tales can come true…
Miller Fenwick wants the kind of happy ending his best friend got, with the hunky werewolf of his dreams. Trouble is, there doesn’t seem to be a Prince Charming on the horizon, and casual encounters don’t cut it anymore. Now that Alexx and Raoul are engaged, Miller is becoming resigned to being the bridesmaid, never the bride. But a chance encounter with a sexy stranger at Charisma has his hopes soaring, and his heart is wide open to possibilities.
Holt Wynne is the head of Helios, the largest vampire organization in the country. He’s a very influential and wealthy man, with a deep-seated hatred of werewolves. His running into Miller at Charisma isn’t entirely accidental. He’d meant to wait, but his emotions got the better of him, and he couldn’t stay away. And now see what he’s done…
Wait until Miller finds out he’s sortof just gotten married to the sexy vampire who hates the people who are Miller’s best friends. Sparks are gonna fly—and not just in the bedroom. One thing for sure—life in Crescent Bay is never dull!

Excerpt:
Miller forced himself to take a breath, unaware until he did that he’d stopped breathing.

Quit being ridiculous. Wine going to your head already?

But he’d only had the one glass. And he hadn’t even finished that. He wasn’t such a lightweight, when it came to holding his alcohol, and he knew it.

He told himself it was just his imagination. But just to be safe, he began a slow cautious turn, looking around him, without appearing to be searching for anything—or anyone.

And there he was.

Standing a heartbeat away from Miller was one of the sexiest men he’d ever seen in his life. A man every bit as sexy as Raoul Marchand, although not in the same feral way as the werewolf.

This man was light where Raoul was dark. His hair was a honey blonde which stood out by virtue of being obviously natural, in a place where most blondes were either created by the sun or came from a bottle. He stood a little taller than Miller, exuding a presence that went beyond the merely physical, possessed of the bearing and mien of a veritable god.

But it was his eyes that drew Miller in and held him spellbound. Blue and green, like staring into tropical waves, flecked with bits of pure molten gold. And the way he was staring at Miller was sending the most delicious shivers traveling up and down his spine.

The man took a step toward Miller, his hand outstretched. Before Miller quite realized what had happened, he’d placed his own hand inside of the other man’s, and he found himself being drawn onto the dance floor.

Bio:

Julie Lynn Hayes first began publishing short stories and poetry in the 1990’s, when it was a different ballgame altogether, and Ebooks hadn’t been dreamed of yet. That changed in 2010 with the acceptance of her first romance novel. She’s come a long way since that first book appeared, and is finding the journey a very educational one.

She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and her cat Ramesses. She often writes of two men finding true love and happiness in one another’s arms, and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She likes to write in different genres, to stretch herself in order to see what is possible. Her great challenge is to be told something can’t be done—she feels compelled to do it.

When she isn’t writing, she enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, needlepoint and knitting, and she loves to cook, spending time watching the Food Network. Her favorite chef is Geoffrey Zakarian. Her family thinks she’s a bit off, but she doesn’t mind. Marching to the beat of one’s own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at Dreamspinner Press, eXtasy Books, Wayward Ink Press, and Amber Quill Press.

My links: