Sunday, August 12, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday

It should be no secret by now that "Catch of the Day" is one of my fave stories I've written.  That is not to say that all of my stories don't have a place in my heart.    But I just love the ocean and enjoyed bringing my merman, Jaran, to life.    I am thinking of doing a sequel but have been so busy with RL and finishing a story I am going to submit to Silver Publishing (the publisher of "Catch of the Day.")  that there hasn't been much time.

I'm also thinking of turning my Weds Brief (Tom and Ben's story) into a full length story.

in the meantime here is my Six Sentence Sunday from "Catch of the Day."

Kellan couldn't help looking down at Jaran's torso. He had nice calves and powerful thighs that disappeared into a pair of shorts that showed off his nice package.
"Like what you see?"
Kellan quickly looked away so Jaran wouldn't know he'd been ogling him. "Come on let's go inside. " He turned around to leave the hold.

Buy Link:  https://spsilverpublishing.com/index/book_authors_id/101/typefilter/book_authors

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Welcome guest author Belinda McBride

I'd like to welcome author Belinda McBride to my blog today.  Let's find out more about her and her  new release from Loose ID "The Bacchi"

QUESTIONS:

1-How long have you been writing?

 I've been writing on and off most of my life, but in about 2006 got my first laptop and that's when I really settled in and started writing for pleasure. I began researching the publishing industry in 2007 and had my first manuscripts published in 2008.
2-What is your favorite genre to write?

 I really like science fiction because I'm in complete control of creating a new universe and the rules these world live by. I like to examine real-world taboos, and can do that within the context of science fiction. I also like that I can cross just about any genre into sci fi.
3-What are you working on now?

 In between computer crashes and catastrophic losses of data, I'm limping along on Dream Hunter, a m/m paranormal that's the follow-up to Blacque/Bleu, from the Arcada universe. Its the story of Blaque's half-brother Travis, who's a bit of a pistol. He encounters a much older man...a fae who is very dangerous and had evil intentions toward someone inside of Arcada.
4-When you start a new story do you begin with a character or plot?

 Generally I start with a character, but sometimes the story ideas come first. Generally, if I develop my characters well, the plot arises from their inner conflicts. Once I had a handle on why Travis in Dream Hunter is such a brat, I knew what his story would be about. Travis is the son of an alpha and an omega, and because of his parentage, feels like he always has a target on his back. He wants to flee Arcada, but fears not only for his mother, but for himself, since trouble just gravitates to him. His love interest Dylan endangers someone Travis cares for. Yet Dylan is compelled to do this in order to get what he desperately wants. This puts them at odds in spite of their unexpected connection to each other.
5- Tell us about your latest/upcoming release. What inspired it?

 The Bacchi is my newest release at Loose Id. It's an odd couple sort of story, and is loosely based off the old movies "Ninotchka" and "Silk Stockings," in which a French playboy decides to seduce a Russian official. He has no luck with her until he gives her a pair of silk stockings. With Lefi and Afton, its a red silk robe that does the trick. :) The men in The Bacchi are both damaged, hurt souls who are outsiders among their own people. They just don't fit until they find one another.



Buy Link

http://www.loose-id.com/the-bacchi/


BLURB:

The Bacchi Lefi Dhrahn lives a life of luxury and decadence, but is tortured by memories of a lost love. He survives the pain by surrounding himself with sex, beauty, and all forms of self-indulgence. When he meets the alluring Inspector Afton Teris, Lefi believes the detective will make a very nice addition to his string of conquests.
Afton Teris is a Valoran hermaphrodite, and like all members of his species, is stern, cerebral and disapproves of the frivolous prostitute. Afton orients as a male, but the beautiful Lefi Dhrahn stirs him sexually, making him question everything he knows about himself. To further confuse his emotions, Afton finds himself tempted by the forbidden pleasures surrounding the Bacchi.
When a kidnapping ring strikes close to home, the two go undercover on a brothel barge to investigate a slavery operation. There, Lefi is confronted by painful memories from his past, while Afton is faced with a horror that threatens his future, and perhaps his very life. Their survival lies with one another, but only if Lefi can set aside his pain and listen to his heart.

Publisher's Note: While primarily a male/male love story, this book contains one or more instances of male/female interaction. It also contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: exhibitionism/sex in public, male/male sexual practices, violence.

EXCERPT:

“Do you ever climax, Lefi?”

“Sometimes. If that’s what my client needs.”

“What about your needs?”

“My needs?” He leaned back, his eyes dropping closed, his hair hanging in an arrow down his back. “You fulfill my needs. When you climaxed now, you gave me such happiness.”

“You know that isn’t what I mean.” She pulled her hand away and reached to the side, where she found a silken robe.

Lefi stripped off the condom and discreetly disposed of it. “Sometimes I take a lover for a time. That’s all I need.” He rose gracefully, and Afton’s heart stopped for the briefest moment. In this light Lefi’s skin was luminous, his hair inky dark. His eyes were shadows in his face. His body was sculpted and perfect, broad shoulders angling to narrow hips. His erection had faded, but his cock was still thick and heavy. Afton caught his breath, his skin flushed, and his cock ached with excitement.

He’s a man. A male! The words echoed in his mind, effectively killing his arousal. For the moment, anyway.

“Do you still want to learn how to pleasure a man?” Lefi had deftly turned the conversation back to his client.

Bashfully she nodded.

“Well, next time we’ll work on that.”

“Will you climax?”

His laugh was beautiful. “Of course, for that is the purpose of the exercise, is it not? You’re afraid. Can you tell me what you’re afraid of?”

“Just…you know…you in my mouth.”

“You worry about my coming in your mouth?” She nodded, and even in the candlelight Afton could see her blush. “Then I certainly won’t, if that worries you. I’ll wear a sheath. But Judith?” With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up to his.

“Yes?”

“Every man has his own taste. My semen is sweet. If you want to, you can taste it. Next time.” He helped her to her feet, and in his skilled hands, the small, round woman appeared graceful and elegant.

“Next time…” Her eyes went unfocused, and the tip of her pink tongue showed briefly at her lips. “I’d noticed…that your sweat isn’t salty. Not much, anyway.”

He chuckled, put an arm around her shoulders, and walked her out of Afton’s sight.

“No, it isn’t. Later this week you’ll come back, and we’ll talk some more…” His voice faded away, leaving Afton standing alone and awkward in the tiny room.

Behind his trousers, Afton’s cock was hard and urgent again; an insidious dampness escaped his body. He clenched his fists, his fingernails nearly drawing blood. A moment of focus allowed him to recapture his Valoran dignity. Then he heard movement outside the door. Lefi was safely wrapped in a floor-length robe as he moved around the living space, picking up objects and putting them away. His client was still in the house, and Afton decided it would be best if he remained hidden for the moment. He took a deep breath and turned to examine his surroundings.
The room was small—not a closet but clearly designed for storage. It took only a moment to ascertain what Lefi used it for.

One wall contained hanging floggers and manacles, leather straps, and exotic devices Afton couldn’t make sense of. There were shelves with dildos of all shapes and sizes, as well as other toys, lubricants, and massage oils.
And then there were the costumes.

The Bacchi had everything ranging from fetish gear that consisted of a few leather straps, to flowing robes from a Warlan fantasy. Afton moved hanger after hanger, then finally broke into a grin. There were several outfits clearly designed for women, along with wigs and shoes. They would fit the Bacchi to perfection.
“See something you like?”

Afton whirled around, the smile fading from his face. The Somian in the doorway didn’t quite tower over him but was tall enough to intimidate. In reaction Afton returned to his own instinctive military posture.

Lefi reached past him and brought down an outfit that consisted solely of drapes of brightly colored, silken scarves.

“I dance in this one. The client likes to strip me naked, one scarf at a time.” He flashed that brilliant smile and hung the skimpy costume back on the rack. “It’s called the Dance of the Seven Sins. Borrowed from Earth, of course.”

He lifted down another. “One gentleman—and I use that term loosely—enjoys seeing me dressed as a female. This little green schoolgirl dress is his favorite. We can only be grateful he acts out his fantasy with me rather than…otherwise.”

Afton finally gave in, smiling and shaking his head. The old-fashioned jumper had a silky blonde wig with it. Another Earth-based kink. While he was tall, the Somian was willowy and beautiful enough to cross gender.

“So what compels you to intrude while I’m with a client, Inspector?” Lefi turned away, leaving Afton to follow him into the main living space. He opened a panel and brought up the lights in the room. An elaborate golden Bacchi bracelet dangled from his left wrist, shimmering and catching Afton’s gaze. An electric-blue credit chit dangled from one link, and the various acts the Somian was proficient in were advertised by the numerous dangling charms. The precious metal indicated that among the Bacchi, he’d achieved mastery within the guild of his profession.

It seemed Lefi Dhrahn was no common prostitute. Afton had never really noticed the bracelet before. He had the odd impulse to examine it, to see just what the Bacchi did for his clients.

Feeling the warmth of a blush on his face, Afton reached into his pocket and extended the warrant just as Lefi turned away and swept into the kitchen in a flutter of black silk. With the lights up, the gem-green tones of his hair sparkled, matching the iridescent flush of green over his cheeks. When he turned back to Afton, his vivid purple eyes gleamed with humor. He offered a glass to Afton.

“It’s only juice, as you’re on duty.” He smiled again and sipped his own drink.
“I have a warrant.” Afton handed him the paper, leaving the glass untouched as Lefi studied the document. One arched brow rose.

“This afternoon?”

“In less than an hour.”

The prostitute rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Fine. Give me ten minutes.” He finished his drink, leaned back against the marble counter, then studied Afton’s face.

“So tell me, Inspector, did you learn anything today?”

“Only that having an audience doesn’t impair your performance.”

The Somian laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Then you weren’t really paying attention, were you? I found your presence quite…distracting.”

Afton felt his skin darken in embarrassment, and the response annoyed him; he should have been well accustomed to the Bacchi’s relentless flirtation by now.
“Why did you strike her?”

Lefi gently set the glass on the counter, then turned back to Afton. Humor still danced in his eyes.

“Some people find punishment cathartic. It allowed her to break through the emotional barriers that kept her from culmination.” He pushed off the counter, and the silk of his robes brushed Afton as he passed by. “I keep a light touch with her. Judith only needs the suggestion of punishment to purge her guilt.” He gave Afton his elegant profile. “You might try it sometime, Inspector. As a Valoran I imagine you carry far too much guilt.”

For a moment Afton froze. How could he possibly know such a thing?

He followed Lefi back into the main room of the apartment. With the lights up he could see that the far half of the room had been arranged for relaxation—and sex. The floor was thickly carpeted; cushions of all sizes littered the space.

“This is the main living area. I’ve got another room with more specialized equipment. That’s where I usually…work.” He spoke casually, his tone friendly and open. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be only a moment.”

He was gone, leaving behind the fragrance of exotic spices, sex, and aroused Somian. Afton shivered as his cock hardened once again. With a frustrated sigh he flopped down onto a luxurious honey-colored chaise and waited.
Copyright © Belinda McBride, July 2012
Bio:

Award winning author Belinda McBride lives in far Northern California with her family and a pack of crazy-ass Siberian Huskies. She writes erotic romance in multiple genres in both het and LGBTQ romances. When she's not sobbing over computer melt-downs and dog show losses, she's generally vacuuming up dog hair and wondering when the fabulous part of being a writer will kick in...

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Welcome guest author Hunter Raines

I'd like to welcome author Hunter Raines to my blog.  


Title: Sight Unseen

Author: Hunter Raines

Price: $4.99   

Word Count: 68,000

Release Date: July 23, 2012

ISBN: 978-14268-9410-7

Genre: Romance, Male/Male, Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Carina Press       

Buy link:




Daniel Van Doren was once a renowned writer, until he was blinded in the car accident that killed his lover. Now, all he sees are ghosts in need of help. They follow him everywhere, and the only way to be rid of his ethereal visitors is to help them resolve their unfinished business here on earth so their spirits can find peace.

Ghostwriter Logan Riley is assigned to pen Daniel's biography. He plans to reveal him as a fraud, but when they meet he's struck by Danny's quiet sincerity—and a growing attraction. Which makes sticking close to Danny to find out the truth more than a little distracting.

When they are attacked by a violent poltergeist Logan begins to believe Danny's not just telling the truth, he's in grave danger. A spirit has learned how to harness the energy of the living to break through the barrier between worlds to harm Danny. And Logan may be the one to blame… 


EXCERPT (PG13)

He reached the other side of the street unscathed, and quickened his steps. The coffee shop was less than a block away and he reached the door, which chimed when he pushed it open, in record time. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and buttery baked goods made his mouth water.

He stopped just inside the shop, assuming his visitor would come to him. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Mr. Van Doren, I’m glad you’re here.” The man grabbed his hand without Danny offering it first, and he bristled at the unwelcome familiarity. Still, he shook it, noticing the long fingers curled around his, the texture of the smooth palm against his own.

His attention caught on the mixture of spice and woodsy notes in the man’s cologne. He’d gotten damn good at recognizing scents, and this one tugged at his senses. Cedar and mint, with a hint of coriander.

The pull of attraction caught him unaware. He allowed it to linger, marveling at how long it had been since his body had responded so strongly to another person. He leaned in closer, ignoring the fact that he didn’t know this man, that he couldn’t see him or his surroundings. He closed his eyes, though it didn’t make the slightest bit of difference, and pretended, just for a moment, that this could turn into something more than a business meeting.

Logan pulled away first. “Shall we sit?”

Reeling from the abrupt absence of the man’s grounding hand against his, Danny turned away quickly in an effort to orient himself. And suddenly, like a lightning bolt crashing against the night sky, a new ghost flashed before him.

She had skin like gossamer, ethereal and white, vivid in its brightness. It made him recall the starkness of a bone picked clean. Piercing blue eyes stood out in startling contrast to her bloodless features. Auburn curls cascaded down her back. She wore a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, revealing a full bust and plenty of cleavage. In her hands, she held a ball that seemed to be made of pure light. The brightness hurt Danny’s eyes, so he looked away.

Beside the woman, the old boxer shifted sideways a few steps. He eyed the newcomer with confusion, as though she didn’t belong. He, too, glanced at the brightly lit orb, and then shrank back.

A wave of unease swept through Danny as he glanced from the boxer to the woman. “There are two of you.” That hadn’t happened since the accident. Over the past two years the ghosts had come to him individually, the next appearing just as the previous one vanished. He didn’t know why. Some kind of ghostly etiquette, maybe, that had each spirit waiting its turn. There was still so much he didn’t understand about what was happening to him. It had taken nearly a year and bi-weekly therapy sessions just to come to terms with the fact that these spirits weren’t illusions or figments of his

seeing past.

“I assure you, I’m alone.” Logan’s voice dropped a few octaves, and his tone took on a new quality. One he probably reserved for small children and lunatics. “Why don’t you follow me to a table? We’ll go somewhere out of the way so we can talk.”

Danny’s head throbbed. He’d talked to ghosts in public before. Hell, people gave him a wide berth anyway when they saw the cane. The moment his lips started to move they pushed back even further, determined to get away from the crazy blind man talking to himself. But tonight he didn’t want distance, or pity, or sympathy. Not from Logan Reily.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that. Occupational hazard. Give me your arm.”

Logan moved closer, and it didn’t take Danny long to find and curl his fingers around the man’s elbow. A dart of electricity singed his fingertips when they made contact with Logan’s bare skin.

Danny didn’t know how to picture this man, but judging by the corded muscles he could feel in Logan’s arms he didn’t think he was too far off in imagining a strong, lean torso and well-defined shoulders. A sprinkling of hair—would it be dark? blond?—felt coarse and masculine beneath Danny’s grip.

Logan led them to a table. Danny used his cane to tap the chair before releasing Logan’s arm and feeling his way along the wooden length of the backrest. Satisfied he knew what to expect, he sank down into it, set his cane to the side, and folded his hands on top of the wooden surface. “Well, Mr. Reily, I’m here. Talk.”

“Logan, please, Mr. Van Doren.” He smiled. “It’s Danny.”

“Danny, then. I’m going to make this quick and easy.”

“What if I want it slow and hard?” The words were out before he even knew what he was saying, and now they hung between them, heavy with suggestion. Heat crept up his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d flirted like a normal human being.

Because he wasn’t. Normal. Not anymore. Hadn’t been in years. If he needed more proof, the two spirits standing on either side of him gave him plenty.


EXCERPT (X-RATED)

“Why don’t we talk about what it would take to convince you to take my deal?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he cringed. That came out sounding a whole lot sleazier than he’d intended, and suddenly he wished Danny would refuse. Turn him down flat right then and there so Logan would be forced to take his chances with Frank. And then, maybe, if he could work up the courage, he could take a different kind of chance. One he hadn’t dared take in a long time. He could ask Danny out. No guilt, no client-writer relationship to ruin. Just two men, getting to know one another.

Danny turned his head, his hazel eyes glittering with the kind of awareness that made Logan think Danny could see right through him. But Danny’s focus remained off the mark, just past Logan’s shoulder. He leaned in, his lips parting on a sigh. “Are you offering something you haven’t already? Something more enticing than a check? Maybe something a little more... personal?”

The huskiness in Danny’s voice drew Logan like a magnet, snapping him out of his self-reproach. He wasn’t seducing Danny into signing the contract. If anything, Danny was seducing him.

He sucked in a breath, grateful Danny couldn’t see the way his hands shook as he lifted them. The trembling stopped the moment he slid his palms against Danny’s cheeks. His fingers delved into the man’s hair and he cupped Danny’s face, tilting it slightly so his half-parted lips angled a mere inch away from Logan’s.

He held Danny for what seemed like an eternity, but couldn’t have been longer than a few heartbeats. Neither man moved. Danny’s breath was hot, tinged with the scent of Jack Daniels. The aroma was an aphrodisiac that went straight to Logan’s groin, and every whiff made his prick flex.

“Just this.” He lowered his head the rest of the way, his lips ghosting over the tempting fullness of Danny’s mouth.

A groan echoed from Danny’s throat. He closed the remaining distance between them, fusing them together. His arms wrapped around Logan. He opened to the kiss, and that simple gesture stripped Logan of every last doubt.

Their tongues met, brushed against each other. Logan’s moan was swift, released on a wave of pure lust. Danny tasted like alcohol and man and desire. He couldn’t get enough.

How long they kissed like that, Logan didn’t know. He only knew he didn’t want to stop. His fingers explored the broad expanse of Danny’s chest, undoing buttons as he went. He yanked the dress shirt out of Danny’s pants, relishing the smooth skin he uncovered beneath. Danny laced his fingers into Logan’s hair. He pulled Logan closer, deepening the slow kiss with an aggressive thrust of his tongue.

Logan slid his palm down farther, loving the flatness of Danny’s belly, the sparse hair guiding his way from Danny’s navel to the waistband of his pants. He sucked on Danny’s lower lip, drawing it into his mouth and nipping the full curve before licking that same spot to soothe it. Danny’s hands dug into his shoulders, his nails biting through Logan’s shirt and into his skin.

Logan cupped the length of Danny’s cock, which felt large and heavy in his hand. The shaft throbbed beneath his touch.

“Please.” Danny tilted his head so it hit the back of the couch.

Logan pressed kisses to the man’s smooth neck, then paused to lick the dip at the hollow of his throat. Danny’s pulse beat fast, matching the tempo of Logan’s own thundering heartbeat.

“Please, what?” He was only partly teasing. The other part of him wanted to hear Danny beg for it.

“I need...” Danny bit down on his lower lip. “This.”

“Ah.” Logan had Danny’s fly undone in less than two seconds, and he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of Danny’s boxers. His fingers curved around the hot length of Danny’s shaft. He stroked once, then squeezed close to the tip. Danny rewarded him with a bead of precome that slid down his cock. “This?”

Danny gasped. His throat moved as he swallowed hard. “Y-yes.”

Logan kissed Danny’s luscious mouth one more time before moving down. His lips left no bit of skin unexplored as he skimmed every inch of Danny’s chest, pausing to swirl his tongue around the man’s flat nipples before continuing his journey down to the promised land.

His fingers slid along Danny’s shaft in smooth, slow strokes, smearing the sticky precome. Logan dipped his tongue into Danny’s navel, then inched down some more to bury his nose into the nest of springy hair at Danny’s groin. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of musk and arousal.

Logan’s cock ached. He pressed his needy erection into the couch cushions as he settled firmly between Danny’s spread legs, then guided Danny’s gorgeous dick out through the slit in his boxers.

His breath caught in his throat. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Danny made a sound, something between a snort and a strangled plea. He felt his way up from Logan’s shoulders to his hair, and his fingers cupped the back of Logan’s head. “I wish I could see you. Right now, just like that. With my dick by your mouth.”

“Your dick in my mouth would look even hotter. I bet it’ll feel damn good too.” Logan licked the swollen tip, flattening his tongue and pressing it against the bulbous head. He lowered his lips over the tip, then slid down the shaft.

Danny cried out. He tightened his grip on Logan’s head. His hips pumped, thrusting his cock deep into Logan’s throat.

Logan struggled to adjust to the thickness. It had been too long since he’d sucked cock. Much too long since he’d had a shaft stretch his mouth and invade his throat, and damn it, he wanted to do it right for Danny.

He worked his way up the hard length and fisted the base. His hand followed the motions of his mouth, fluidly moving to the tip before plunging back down. He bobbed along Danny’s stiff erection, but let his partner set the pace.

Danny’s hips never stilled. He thrust, fucking Logan’s mouth with deep, hard strokes. Logan rocked with him, finding his rhythm and letting Danny take his pleasure. His cock bore down into the couch. The friction of his shaft grinding against the cushion through his jeans built tension in his sac, until his balls tightened, pulsing with built-up lust.

He couldn’t resist gripping Danny’s cock harder, sucking deeper. His cheeks hollowed from the effort. On each stroke, Logan took the shaft as far into his mouth as he could, so that his hand was forced to cup Danny’s balls and his nose pressed into the dark curls.

Danny’s movements sped. His rhythm faltered, becoming erratic and fitful.

Logan worked his own rod against the cushions. He’d grown used to stroking himself when he wanted to come, but not having anyone’s touch on his dick was oddly exciting. His sac ached with pleasure.

The final pistoning of Danny’s hips took them both over the edge. Come exploded in Logan’s mouth, and he struggled to swallow it all without missing a drop. The release that had been building in Logan’s groin rippled along the length of his shaft, and he blew his load inside his underwear.

Danny cried out, his guttural moans building as Logan sucked the last of his come. He used his tongue to glide up the shaft, cleaning Danny off as he went.

His lips were still wrapped around Danny’s cock when the glass of Jack Daniels flew past his ear and crashed against the wall.


Author Bio

Hunter Raines leads a double life. By day, she works in a male-dominated environment as a professional proposal writer responsible for securing multi-million-dollar accounts. By night, she pens naughty tales of hunky men doing wonderfully sexy things to each other. Her coworkers think they're the source of her inspiration, and she doesn't have the heart to tell them otherwise.

Hunter is the author of numerous short stories and novellas, and she holds an Honors B.A. in English Literature. When she's not working or writing, she can be found curled up in her library of more than four thousand books, or playing video games with her husband.






Saturday, August 4, 2012

Welcome author Anel Viz

I'd like to welcome author Anel Viz to my blog today.  Let's find out more about him and his new, exciting and different, book "New Lives."    I am thrilled to tell you all that I was a lucky winner of a copy of this book from a contest I entered at MANtastic GRL Challenge, week 8


New Lives
Silver Publishing, August 2012
ISBN: 9781614955597 (e-book), 9781614957621 (print)
          


Bio:
Born and raised in New York and having lived nearly a quarter of his life in French-speaking countries, Anel Viz has made his home in the Midwest for the past thirty-seven years. He is still trying to adjust to the change. Since he started writing creatively some half-dozen years ago, he has published four novels, seven novellas, twenty-two short stories, about three dozen flash fictions, and four prose poem cycles. Now that he has retired, he has no intention of stopping since he has nothing better to do with his time, so he continues to juggle more projects than he can handle in his usual indisciplined fashion. His stories regularly appear in the online magazine Wilde Oats.

Blurb:
Three people trapped in dead-end situations give up nearly everything they’ve ever known hoping to find a better future:
            Otis lives alone and without prospects in a dying Nevada village. He has lost hope the man who took advantage of him years ago will return and now dreams of becoming a porn star.
            Jared, an abused runaway, can’t stay forever with the kindly trucker who picked him up hitchhiking. They need to find a safe place for him to live.
            Larry Jordan, a closeted collector of valuable gay erotica, fears the residents of his conservative, middle-class community will soon discover his secret life. He has just one friend, whom he met only recently.
Three gay men who don’t know each other and never will, but whose stories intertwine in unusual and unexpected ways . . .


Commentary:
What can I say about the book? For one, that whoever reads it is going to be surprised. The blurb is accurate and gives fair warning of the “unusual and unexpected”, but I doubt readers will be prepared for how unusual and unexpected it really is. I suspect they’ll either love it or hate it, and I admit I have misgivings about how it will be received and perceived. Let’s leave it at that, shall we? I can’t give much of it away without killing the surprise.
The first review has already appeared, and I agree with everything it says. (Why wouldn’t I? They liked the book.) The review begins: “Is it short stories or a novel? Yes. Is it whimsical or a dark exploration of gay life? Yes. Is it erotica or literary fiction? Yes.” Other questions in the same vein—for example, “Is it realism or fantasy?”—would receive the same answer. It takes liberties with POV and style—some parts are written in dialect, others in very formal, almost stilted prose. And so on. Yet there is no paradox involved; I simply disregard, or perhaps flaunt, a number of literary norms we take for granted. Is there any reason besides convention a book must be one or the other?
Why write something like this? For the fun of doing something different; to thumb my nose at the “rules”; to push myself beyond my writer’s comfort zone; to shake up my readers with a happily-ever-after, boy-meets-boy story that doesn’t conform to any recognizable formula and keeps them wondering exactly where all this is going while they sense its steady progress toward its conclusion. For the book does end happily, though only a fool would believe it. Yet this fool does.
What gave me the idea? For one, I’m always trying different things. I had four stories on my hands with not much in common—depressing, ominous, fanciful, and screwball—that somehow seemed incomplete by themselves but promised to complement one another if I could figure out a way to fit them together. What will my readers think—that I succeeded or that my book is a hopeless mess? Yes.


Excerpt (from Part II, chapter 1):
Jared hadn't returned yet when Randy got back to their room. He figured the kid must be checking the place out, trying to make up his mind. Let him take his time—Randy had enough to think about and could think better without him there. Only when the sky was getting dark and there was still no sign of Jared did he go looking for him.
He spotted him down next to the corral talking with that Joe from Nevada Lingham didn't trust. They were standing too close for comfort.
"Hey, Jared," he called out, "where've you been hiding?"
Jared broke free from the cowboy and hurried up to Randy. "What all was going on down there?" Randy asked, trying to hide his suspicions.
If his tone had an edge to it, Jared didn't notice. "Nothing's going on," he said.
"Jack doesn't like him."
"I saw that. Can guess why, too."
"He hit on you?"
"Starting to, but I know better than to take him up on it. I mean, he ain't bad looking and he seems nice enough, but I don't like his approach. Too persistent, overbearing. When guys hit on me like that, I know they're looking to get what they can outta me. Not like you, Randy. I can trust you. You're a sweetheart."
"What'd he say, exactly?"
"Just what a good cowboy I'd make."
"And?"
"I think he has his head up his ass. I'm no cowboy and never will be."
"Why never? What makes you think you can't learn?"
"What makes you think I'd want to? What makes you think I want to leave you?"
"It's not just about what you want, Jared, and it's not about what I want either. If what I wanted was all that mattered, I'd have you riding shotgun with me till I was too old to drive. But we need to think about you, and think seriously. Let's go back to the room and talk it over."
"Talk what over?"
"Your future. We've talked together a lot, had a lot of serious talks, and we've both been honest with each other, at least I think we have. But it's always been about the past, never about the future, never about us."
"We always talk about us."
"You know what I mean. We talk about you and we talk about me, but we don't talk about us. We've never talked about where we go from here, what we're going to do next. Come on back to the room with me. You're not afraid to talk about it with me are you?"
"I am a little, but I knew it was coming. Known for a long time. I've been avoiding it."
"We both have."
Jared followed him back to the room. "Why does the future have to be any different?" he asked when they'd closed the door behind them.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Welcome guest author Dianne Hartsock

I'd like to welcome Dianne Hartsock to my blog today.  Let's find out more about her and her book "Shelton's Homecoming."



1. How long have you been writing?

I began writing in first grade, a two paragraph story about a giraffe. I can’t remember much about it, except that everyone liked to visit him at the zoo. I was very proud when the story was pinned up on the wall for everyone to read, the teacher liked it that much. Then in seventh grade my creative writing teacher surprised me by saying I had some talent and should develop it. She believed that one day I could become published. She had me hooked! I’ve been scribbling stories ever since.

2. What is your favorite genre to write?

I love trying new things. I’ve written paranormal and sci-fi and fantasy. But I have to say that my favorite is the m/m erotic contemporary romance. I love putting my men in the center of today’s controversies and seeing what they do with the challenges I throw at them. Of course my stories always have their HEA! But I do like making them work for it. Writing a story set in the modern world also means I don’t have to create a world and can concentrate on developing my characters, which is my favorite part.

3. What are you working on now?

While I’m writing this interview, I only have one project I’m working on, another m/m erotic contemporary with all new characters. I’m quickly falling in love with it! I’m also waiting for edits on a fantasy novella I’ve signed a contract for with Etopia Press and am waiting to see if an m/m Regency of mine has been accepted. Oh, and I’m plotting out several sequels and have an old novel to revamp.

4. When you start a new story do you begin with a character or plot?

This question is so hard to answer because I develop plop and characters almost simultaneously. I’ll hear a bit of song or catch something in a movie or in life that captures my interest. My MC walks onto the set. Hello, handsome. What’s your story? I’ll think about him for awhile, plotting a vague outline in my mind of what I want to have happen. I start to write. Characters introduce themselves as I go. The plot expands to encompass them. Seriously, the final story is as much as a surprise to me as hopefully it is to my readers.

5. Tell us about your latest/upcoming release. What inspired it?

In this fourth ‘Shelton’ book, Shelton’s grown tired of living a life separate from Nevil. So when Nevil is hurt in an accident at work, Shelton comes home for good. Feeling closer than ever to his lover, Shelton’s ready to make a lasting commitment to their relationship. But is that what Nevil wants? Nevil is less than enthusiastic when an old flame marries, leaving Shelton wondering if he’ll have to keep his dreams on hold indefinitely.

Shelton’s Homecoming flows naturally from the first three stories. At the end of Shelton’s Choice, Shelton is living in Colorado while Nevil remains in Oregon. I had to bring Shelton home where he belongs. And the ending to Shelton’s Homecoming is the HEA he’s always dreamed

 

Shelton’s Homecoming




            Blurb:

Shelton’s grown tired of living a life separate from Nevil. So when Nevil is hurt in an accident at work, Shelton comes home for good. Feeling closer than ever to his lover, Shelton’s ready to make a lasting commitment to their relationship. But is that what Nevil wants? Nevil is less than enthusiastic when an old flame marries, leaving Shelton
wondering if he’ll have to keep his dreams on hold indefinitely.


Excerpt:

The doctor returned as promised, checked Nevil over, and discharged him.

"I left a prescription at the nurse's station for you to pick up on your way out. Pain meds for the headache I know you're hiding, and you can also take them for your arm."

"Thank you, Andrew," Nevil said with his charming smile.

Shelton gave the love of his life a dry look. Always the flirt. He shook the doctor's hand and took the copy of the release papers from him. "Thank you for taking such good care of him. I have to tell you it was a relief to find him here rather than in ICU."

"It was my pleasure. Take care."

Nevil collected his prescription at the front desk, and they made their way to the elevators. A soft rain fell as they emerged from the hospital entrance and made their way to the train depot. Deep in thought, Shelton chewed his lip while they waited.

He glanced at Nevil beside him and noted the white set of his lips. "I could take you home first if your head hurts. There's no reason I can't retrieve the car myself later and pick up your prescription."

Nevil gave him a smile and slipped his warm hand into Shelton's. "Let's pick it up together. I feel like I've just been released from prison. I want to be outside for a while."

"Just don't get chilled," Shelton said, and then he groaned. "Please ignore me. I think I left my brain back in Colorado."

Nevil chuckled. "As long as your luscious body is here," he murmured and smacked his lips together.

Shelton glanced around quickly. No one paid them any attention, so he gave Nevil a light kiss, then wished he hadn't, as every nerve in his body ignited. He wanted Nevil wrapped around him—now—with Nevil's gorgeous cock buried deep inside him.

He jerked his gaze down the tracks, embarrassed and aching. He hoped Nevil hadn't noticed the tremble in his hands. They would pick up the Prius, go home, and Nevil would take his meds then go to bed. Shelton would have to content himself with a shower where he could get rid of the hard-on he'd suffered all morning. The idea made him feel alone. Without a thought, he squeezed Nevil's hand.

Nevil leaned close to whisper in his ear, "Don't forget... you promised to let me 'do' you."

Shelton laughed, breathless. He turned back to Nevil, and touched his lips with an unsteady finger. "I'm holding you to that," he said, then sucked in air when Nevil's velvet soft lips closed over his fingertip. He watched in captive fascination as his digit disappeared bit by bit between Nevil's pale lips. He felt the roughness of Nevil's tongue in the moist, hot depths; Nevil pushed the finger to the roof of his mouth and started to suck on it. God! Shelton's prick hardened more with each draw, as Nevil’s tongue rolled around his finger; his balls tight and again aching.

"Damn, Nevil… stop! You're going to get us arrested," he panted in his lover's ear. He knew that at any second he was ready to drag Nevil behind the hospital and fuck him senseless.

Nevil's throaty laugh made him shiver with bliss. "The train’s coming."

Shelton dropped his head on Nevil's shoulder, and fought to calm his unsteady senses. Nevil didn’t play fair. He almost sobbed when Nevil's body heat wrapped around him, teasing him closer when it was time to pull away.

"Come on, love. It won't take long to get the car. Then we can go home," Nevil said with encouragement, as he tugged on his sleeve. Shelton boarded the sleek train car, but chose to stand when Nevil patted the seat beside him. He couldn’t tell where Nevil's fingers would roam if he sat down. Nevil gave him a delighted smile in answer as he read his mind with ease. Shelton scowled and looked out the window as the train gathered speed. His wanton mind pictured Nevil's mouth on him as they swept along the tracks, and he had to stifle a moan in his throat.


Dianne Hartsock

Bio:

Dianne grew up in a large, boisterous and loving family in California, spent ten years in the rocky mountains of Colorado, and now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon.
Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which she says is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.