The Fictional World of Jaime Samms

New Release: Better

2012-01-27T15:51:00.000-05:00

The past never goes away. Getting better is about learning to live with the truth.

Buy Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=2739&osCsid=to1sc0u2342r40ga7qpjhjlvs6

After filing charges that put his abusive ex-Dom behind bars, Jesse Turbul relocates across the country, hoping to escape his past—but, of course, it's never that easy. When Jesse meets third-year law student Aadon at the library where he works, their mutual attraction is instant and obvious.

Despite the sparks, they just can't seem to make it work. Aadon is mired in guilt over his inability to help his older brother, damaged by events far too similar to to Jesse's past. Jesse is stuck in his own desperate wish to forget the painful shadow that continues to threaten him and any hope of a happy future.

The only way to move forward is for Jesse to acknowledge he's broken and for Aadon to accept he can't make him better.

Excerpt: Jesse watched his date for a while, waiting for the blond head to lift. Only when Mike came to the table a few minutes later did Aadon look up. He glanced at Jesse, turned to Mike and placed his order, waited until Jesse had ordered and Mike had left before quietly excusing himself from the table.

Jesse waited a long time, much longer than it would take for Aadon to use the facilities, before following him.

The heavy restroom door swung open on silent hinges, and the peculiar smell of a bathroom trying too hard not to smell like a bathroom engulfed him. Jesse drew in a silent breath and stepped inside.

Aadon leaned on the counter by the sinks, his back to the mirror.

“I’m sorry.” Jesse tried to make the apology light, tried to see into Aadon’s shrouded eyes.

Finally, Aadon looked at him. “Why?”

“I got a little defensive.” He held up his hand, finger and thumb an inch apart, sheepish smile on his face.

Aadon stifled a groan. How could he be so fiery one minute, and this…adorable the next and not know how crazy it made him? He pushed himself off the sink and closed his hand around Jesse’s fingers, closing the space and kissing the fingertips. “Maybe that’s the point. As long as you feel you have to defend yourself around me, I have to be careful.” He closed his eyes, kept his lips pressed to his warm fingers.

God this was hard. He wasn’t doing Jesse any good, wanting him this bad, knowing he couldn’t—shouldn’t—and knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. He shouldn’t still even be with him. It was too much. He

just wasn’t what Jesse needed.

Jesse felt the churning sensation in the pit of his stomach even before Aadon spoke again and yanked his hand free, mouth open, ready to fill the void before Aadon could speak. Before he could say what Jesse knew he was

about to say. He was too slow.

Aadon took his face in both hands, tilting it up and looking into his eyes. “As long as I have to be that careful, this can’t work.”

“But—”

“Because I don’t want to be careful, Jesse,” Aadon went on, overriding his faint protest, passing a thumb over Jesse’s lips and backing him up against a stall.

“Then don’t.” The words warbled out past Jesse’s pulse fluttering in his throat. He swallowed hard. “Don’t be careful.” Aadon’s toned body pressed his against the cold metal. The rush of fear and excitement mingled, and he knew he’d lost the ability to tell which was which. He didn’t know if he cared.

“If I’m not, I could do more damage than Anthony ever did.” Aadon’s palm caressed his cheek, his fingers slid into Jesse’s hair, and he kissed; a light strike of his lips and tongue, there and gone too quickly to capture, but

expertly bringing him back down to where he could almost breathe normally.

The rush faded, and Jesse wanted it back.

He gripped the front of Aadon’s shirt, preventing him from moving away. “You’re not anything like Anthony, and I’m not who I was then.” He never would have demanded Anthony answer his desire like this. Kissing Aadon firmly, not hard or angry, just without compromise, Jesse closed his eyes, willed the other man to understand. He needed this so desperately. Needed to know he was wanted, desired. Needed to know Aadon could look

on him as a man and not a shattered thing.

A soft groan welled in Aadon’s throat and spilled out into Jesse’s kiss. It was so good. So sweet, and held so much conviction. It was, finally, too much to resist. He answered it, tongue stroke for tongue stroke, slowly

wresting control of the kiss from Jesse as he pinned him between his hard body and the cold metal of the bathroom stall. His big hands cupped Jesse’s head, his body an immovable weight against him, soaking in Jesse’s heat and desire, keeping him still and contained.

Jesse couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and his fingers tightened to fists in Aadon’s shirt. This was exactly the kind of mindless surrender he’d always craved. Exactly what Anthony had never once given him. Because Anthony

had never asked for it the way Aadon was doing with his firm, gentle touches and his warm hands, possessive, but not hard or hurtful. Jesse let go of that last bit of control and felt his head impact the stall wall with a soft thud. His hands relaxed, his body heated and melted to conform with Aadon’s, and he opened that last little bit to feel Aadon’s tongue sweep in and possess him.

Releases: New and Otherwise

2012-01-26T12:54:00.000-05:00

So, today is a big day. A few months back, I offered to write a free story for one of my favorite blogs, to help them celebrate their birthday. Over at Coffee and Porn in the Morning, Marie and Heidi share some very tasty morsels with their blog followers every day, and being one of the happy recipients of their diligent adherence to their quest to share the sexy, I thought it only appropriate to help them celebrate this birthday.

Today is the day my story, just one among the offerings of a host of other authors (including one of my very favorite big-time authors, Lynn Flewelling, who wrote the Nightrunner series) , goes live, at 2:30 Easterm.

Not a Whore, by Jaime Samms: Purple tinsel and roses and a kiss under the New Years ball might be romantic, but are they enough for Ansell to give up his independence to please his lover?

Check out the index of stories available from, OMG, a host of amazing authors giving it up for free!!!

ANd on the Otherwise note, my latest novel (and wow, it's been so long since I got to celebrate a new release, I almost forget the drill!!!) Better comes out at Dreamspinner Press tomorrow!!!

The Blurb: After filing charges that put his abusive ex-Dom behind bars, Jesse Turbul relocates across the country, hoping to escape his past—but, of course, it's never that easy. When Jesse meets third-year law student Aadon at the library where he works, their mutual attraction is instant and obvious.

Despite the sparks, they just can't seem to make it work. Aadon is mired in guilt over his inability to help his older brother, damaged by events far too similar to to Jesse's past. Jesse is stuck in his own desperate wish to forget the painful shadow that continues to threaten him and any hope of a happy future.

The only way to move forward is for Jesse to acknowledge he's broken and for Aadon to accept he can't make him better.

movie talk: Sherlock Holmes A Game of Shadows

2012-01-07T00:27:00.003-05:00

If you ask me, the loveliest thing about this movie is that no one pretends they don't know fans will be slashing these two all over the place. And yet, to the average viewer, it's just another bromance. Well, if by bromance, you mean the the kind where everything blows up, everyone gets shot at least once, and there are giant fish hooks and man on man waltzing. If you mean that kind of bromance.

So did I like it? well of course! Witty, fun, fascinating, especially listening to hubs beside me analyzing all the genius manipulating I was too busy watching the for Meaningful Gazes to notice. Oh! And the visual of where steampuk started. Yeah. That was pretty cool, too. And totally didn't hate the actual female love interests, either. Always love a good female role where the girl kicks ass and shoots a few baddies to boot. Even the genteel wife shot off a few zingers. No shrinking violet, she.

Hats off to another great, entertaining movie. I may not be terribly hard to please in this department, but hey, I wasn't in that theater alone, and hubs didn't complain. Must have been enough explosions to go around :D

Sunday Entertainment Jan 01, 2012

2012-01-01T13:58:00.001-05:00

Well, despite the fact it is a brand new year...doesn't get much newer than this, really, I do have a few things to talk about today.

INTERESTING THINGS I CAME ACROSS ON THE WEB

On Kristen Lamb's blog, and article on why tradiotional advertising won't sell your book. It made a lot of sense to me, and it might to you, too. Go read the post here.

NEWS FROM FRIENDS

Most of you have probably heard about Love Romances Cafe's yearly Best of Awards. I have a few highlights for you here:

2011 LRC's "Best of" Awards Nominee List

Best Paranormal/Fantasy Book

Andrea Speed-Pretty Monsters

Haven't read it yet, but I've heard really, really good things...

> Best Book of 2011
TJ Klune-Bear, Otter and the Kid
Rick R. Reed-Caregiver
Two more books in my TBR pile that I've heard are fantastic....

Best GBLT Book
Damon Suede-Hot Head

No secret who I'd vote for in this category ;) Hot Head remains my favorite book of the year.

Best Contemporary Book
Damon Suede-Hot Head
Johnny Miles-Learning to Samba
ZA Maxfield-The Book of Daniel
The first two I've read, and that's a tough call for me. I loved them both...and I've yet to read The Book of Daniel, but again, I hear wonderful things and I have yet to meet a Z.A. Maxfield book I didn't like...

Best Historical Romance Book
Best BDSM Book
Best Mystery/Romantic Suspense/Thriller Book

I haven't read any of the books in these categories, so I really don't have an opinion, but good luck to all the nominees!

Best Author of 2011

Damon Suede
Andrew Grey
Ethan Day
Johnny Miles
Tara Lain

Just a few nominees I'll be rooting for. Besides being terrific authors, they are all wonderful people I've had the distinct pleasure of meeting face to face....

> Best GBLT Author 2011
Andrew Grey
SJD Peterson
Margie Church
Xavier Axelson
Amber Kell
Jambrea Jo Jones
Kim Dare
Serena Yates
Carol Lynne
Bailey Bradford
TJ Klune
Mary Calmes
Sue Brown
Lynn Hagen
Stormy Glenn
Joyee Flynn
Chris Quinton
Brannon Black
Johnny Miles
ZA Maxfield

Well...that's the whole list of nominees, and yeah. Good luck choosing just one....

Best Cover of 2011
Damon Suede-Hot Head always one of my favs, and odd, since I don't usually go for naked torso....

Best Cover Artist
Reese Dante...does beautiful work
Dawné Dominique...not afraid to capture the kink
Valerie Tibbs....wonderful to work with
Anne Cain....what can I say? Love her work, loved working with her, brief ass it was. She did a wonderful job! (I'll show y'all in a sec)
Jet Mykles....talk about multi talent!

Best e-Publisher 2011
Dreamspinner Press...professional and awesome
Riptide Publishing...new and exciting
Samhain Publishing...tried and true
Loose Id Publishing...have yet to read a Loose Id book I didn't enjoy
Total E-Bound Publishing...like family.

There is more. Much more. Go check out Dawn Roberto's blog for the full list!

And as promised, the Anne Cain cover for my upcoming release, Better, to show why she's one of my cover artist heroes. Check her DeviantArt page if you need further proof :)

Book Talk: First Watch by Peter Hansen

2011-12-29T19:20:00.000-05:00

I'm not entirely sure why I chose this book as the first book I read from Riptide Publishing. It seemed like a good idea at the time?

It's making me...squeamish. It isn't even very long and I'm finding I have to read it small doses at a time because I'm not liking the situation or, in a strange way, the main character. But still, I feel for him and his predicament. I'm kinda pissed at him for how things are turning out for his friend, but the details on the sale page promise me a HFN ending, so I shall soldier on.

And in fact, I don't want to turn anyone off this book. Just because I'm having difficulty with it doesn't mean everyone will. Some of my very favorite books, like The Slayer's Apprentice by Zathyn Priest and the Last Harold Mage Trilogy by Mercedes Lackey, I had this same visceral reaction to. It isn't a bad reaction, necessarily. Its a strong one. One that can't be ignored. One that comes when the book is well written, engaging and demanding. That's strong writing, strong editing, and commitment by the author. It demands commitment from the reader, and you definitely have to be prepared to give this book your attention, whether you like it or not.

For me, whether I like the book or not, I suspect will strongly hinge on the ending. If that is as strongly written as the rest, not a cop out, and not gratuitous, then I suspect despite my squeamishness thus far, I will not only like it, but probably re-read it some day. As a writer myself, I can't ask for more than to touch a reader so deeply they want to read the same thing over again.

Launch of Lords of Aether

2011-12-01T19:40:00.003-05:00

Today is the big day! I haven't mentioned it much because it always seemed like forever off and I was sort of in big star denial that I get to work on this project with these terrific authors, but the day is here, and Lords of Aether has launched!

This is the brainchild of Lex Valentine, and when she invited me to join the illustirous company of Stephani Hetch, KC Burns, Charlie Cochrane, Z.A. Maxfield, and Jason Edding, I was completely stoked and floored at the same time that she decided to put such faith in my abilities to keep up with these writers.

Let's hope I don't let the down! Today, Lex has kicked our story off with the first installment of this free serial.

Check out the Story Blurb:

In turn of the century London, a handful of men, members of the exclusive Lords of Aether club, discover that the English Empire is under assault by a nebulous enemy. Murders of key figures in the criminal underworld abound and innocent men are framed for the crimes. Government officials change their stance on political issues overnight following the near death experiences of those close to them. Experiments related to aether are covered up. Inventors and others with military knowledge have mysteriously disappeared. Strange banking and finance issues cripple the Empire. As the government’s funds dry up, crime rises, signaling approaching anarchy. Something dire is afoot and disparate clues lead to one dead end after another for the Lords of Aether.

The search for a missing lover becomes the painstaking uncovering of a plot against the world’s governments that begins with the crippling of the English Empire. The Lords of Aether battle their own demons and personal issues as they work together to discover just who is behind the ingenious and nefarious plot. When their investigations lead them to an ancient arcane society they find more chaos and evil than they ever imagined existed. A master criminal with ties to the Imperial family, unlimited wealth and resources, and no conscience leads them down a twisted path of destruction and deception. The Lords of Aether must pool their own resources, call upon their trusted friends and family members and work together to save the Empire and the world.

Then go on and read Lex's first post

Friend Release: Jamie Fessenden: The Dogs of Cyberwar

2011-11-25T14:09:00.000-05:00

So, visiting today is Jamie, a fellow Dreamspinnre author, and the book he has coming out is not exactly the romance normally talk about, but it looks really good, just the same. Check it out:

"The Dogs of Cyberwar" by Jamie Fessenden

BLURB Connor is a netrunner: a hacker who ventures into cyberspace to steal data from corporate computers. As he hides out in the slums of Seattle, he’s attacked by a street gang and, incredibly, rescued by one of the members. His rescuer is a man named Luis, who has decided Connor needs his protection.

But instead of providing safety, Luis’s presence wreaks havoc with Connor’s online identity, and they find themselves hunted by a lethal security force. While they attempt to escape the city, Connor finds himself struggling to survive with the most lethal killer ever pitted against the corporations that control the FreeCorp—and he risks losing his heart to the same man.

EXCERPT -- Rated PG -- M/M -- "The Dogs of Cyberwar" by Jamie Fessenden

The gym had sleep capsules in a room off to one side of the locker room. These were “rooms” just big enough for a person to crawl into and sleep. But they were comfortable enough and provided access to the Net, which Connor would need in order to finish the job he’d contracted for.

But when he swiped his wrist across the reader and the door swung open, he discovered a new drawback to having Luis for his bodyguard.

“Is that big enough for both of us?” the Latino asked, peering into the capsule.

This took Connor aback. “What? No, not really. Can’t you get your own?”

“I don’t have any money,” Luis reminded him.

Jesus. Just how much was this deal going to end up costing him on a regular basis?

“I suppose I could rent you a capsule,” Connor said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. The capsules were pretty pricey.

“That’s all right,” Luis replied. “I’ll just keep watch out here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have to sleep.”

“If I’m locked in another capsule, I might not hear if somebody comes after you.”

“It’s not like I get attacked every time I try to sleep,” Connor protested. But he could see from the look in Luis’s eyes that this argument wouldn’t get him anywhere. Luis had decided that Connor needed to be protected. And that meant not leaving his side, apparently. “So your idea of being my bodyguard is pretty much what other people would call a ‘stalker’?”

“Don’t you think your bodyguard should be nearby whenever you need him?”

“If I have to take a shit, are you going to come into the stall with me?” Connor asked him, irritated. “No, don’t answer that. We’ll save it for a surprise. In the meantime, if you’re going to be like this, you might as well just get in the goddamned capsule with me. They’re big enough for two, if

you don’t mind being snug. But leave everything you don’t need in the locker.”

Following his own advice, Connor stripped to his underwear. There certainly wasn’t going to be room in there to undress if Luis was inside with him. The one thing he brought in was his cyber deck.

Luis followed his example and stripped to his underwear, though he insisted on bringing his gun with him into the capsule. Connor prayed neither of them rolled over on it in the night.

It was pretty cramped when they were both inside and the door was locked, but thankfully the capsule had air conditioning. Not that Luis smelled bad. In fact, once he was stretched out beside Connor, his chest at the level of

Connor’s face, Connor found that he liked the faint masculine musk Luis seemed to radiate. The scent was clean and held a trace of the generic liquid soap available in the gym shower, but it was unmistakably manly.

It was impossible for their skin not to touch in this close space, but Luis didn’t seem to care. When Connor glanced up at his face, he found Luis looking at him thoughtfully with those beautiful dark eyes. Not for the first time, Connor wondered whether Luis was gay or straight. So far, he hadn’t given much indication—unless the fact that he had a strong desire to make himself subservient to another man was a sign.

“Um… just so we’re clear about this,” Connor began, uncertain how exactly to phrase the question, “Are you…expecting sex out of this arrangement?”

Luis shook his head, smiling at his discomfort. “No. Although I did my time giving hand jobs for money, so if you want me to get you off….”

“No,” Connor answered quickly. Luis was certainly not the first guy he’d known who’d resorted to prostitution to get by, so he didn’t fault him for it. But he didn’t want some guy helping him “get off” if the guy wasn’t enjoying it himself. “So you don’t like guys, then?”

Luis shrugged. “I guess I don’t really care one way or another. If I like someone, I’ll fuck them. It doesn’t matter if they’re male or female.”

“All right. That’s cool. I generally just like guys, myself.”

“Muy bien.”

That seemed to end the discussion. Connor wasn’t certain if he liked the fact that Luis had left the possibility of sex open. This guy was already complicating his life. If they started fucking around, it would get even more complicated.

* * *

Luis smiled at Connor and lowered his head to the pillow they’d be sharing. “I already have a job as a bodyguard.”

“I can’t pay.”

“Just feed me. That’s all I need.”

“And a ‘purpose’?”

“I want someone to protect,” Luis said, his voice beginning to sound sleepy. “I don’t like being the bad guy. Is that wrong?”

Connor sighed. “No, it’s not wrong. But you realize you’re protecting someone who steals and destroys data, don’t you? I’m not exactly a ‘good guy,’ myself.”

There was no response, and Connor glanced up to see that Luis had drifted off. Asleep, there was something innocent and childlike in his beautiful face. Of course, Connor had to remind himself, this was the man he’d just seen cut two men into tiny pieces.

Sunday Entertainment: Nov 20, 2011

2011-11-20T12:16:00.001-05:00

To start off with, Damon, once again, has gone and put himself in the spotlight. His book, Hot Head, has made it into the semi-finals of Goodreads's best romance of 2011. So that's cool beans. Congrats, Damon. As I've mentioned my opinion before, well deserved. (It might be I keep talking about this because I just love the look of the cover and want to post it again. That's always a possibility.)

This week, I finally took some time for myself and watched a movie. I picked up Torch Song Trilogy. Now, I'm not a gay guy, so I might have missed a few cliches present in this movie. I dare say there were more than a few, like the gay bashing death of beloved, the bi guy who can't decide what he wants, and the mother...the Jewish, New York mother...wow. But...She was definitely cliche, yes. She was also...oddly sympathetic, though at some points I wanted to hate her. I really did, but in the end, couldn't, because she might have been closed off and narrow in her definitions of things, but she didn't stay that way. She tried, and that made all the difference as to how I felt about her character. And the scene between Arnold and his mother?

"You want to be a part of my life, I'm not editing out the parts you don't like...There's one more thing you'd better understand: I have taught myself to sew, cook, build furniture, fix plumbing, I can even pat myself on the back when necessary. All so that I don't have to ask anyone for anything. There's nothing I need from anyone except love and respect and anyone who can't give me those two things has no place in my life."

That will be one of my favorite scenes in any movie for a really long time, I think. I can't think of a sentiment truer to life than that, and brilliantly presented, writing, acting, everything. Great movie. I'll probably rent it again.

WHAT MY PUBLISHERS ARE UP TO

There are three special events going on at Dreamspinner between now and the end of November that you may want to know about:

First, we're having a We Are Thankful Sale, 20% off everything on the web site through Nov. 30.

Secondly, we reached 1500 fans again on our Facebook page after FB ate the old one. To say thank you, there's a code on the page for 15% off one order of any size over the next year. Please visit the FB page,http://www.facebook.com/dreamspinnerpress, to get the code.

Finally, every purchase between now and Nov. 30 enters you in a drawing for a Kindle Fire, to be drawn on Dec. 1.
ON THE HOME FRONT

It snowed. That is all.

Sunday Entertainment: Nov 12, 2011

2011-11-13T08:30:00.002-05:00

Here's some good news for our genre, yet again. Seems Amazon has a "Best Book" thingy, in which they chose what 'they' (don't know who they are, but anyway) chose what books stood out for the year. In their "Gay & Lesbian" category, Dreamspinner author TJ Klune has had the honor of his book "Bear, Otter and the Kid" be named one of the best. Well done, TJ. It's on my list of books to read. Looks like I'm going to have to move it up the queue.

A lovely book trailer for Salad on the Side author, Karenna Colcroft, though it isn't for Salad, it's still a pretty thing to show off, and it was made by Winterheart Designs. 0eH51WRGMkc I confess, I have no idea how to embed this. Sorry)

IN PERSONAL NEWS

This past week, I signed a contract with Dreamspinner Press for a new short story that will be published in May of 2012, under their Bittersweet line. How excited am I by that? Very. It's a re-print, called Paying the Piper, and while some of my really faithful readers from years past might have read it, I do think it will be new to most of you. I'll keep you posted on this as things progress.

ON THE HOMEFRONT

The most used bit of swag I brought home from GRL. Good call, Devon! The view in the background is one of my favorite local coffee places, though it's been pretty empty lately, as it's under renovations. still, it's cozy and just a few steps from work, so very handy.

Amber Kell's Birthday Blog Hop

2011-11-12T07:42:00.001-05:00

Amber Kell is visiting today, one step along her birthday blog hop. Below is the next installment of her sserial she's writing as her gift to all her readers. Welcome, Amber, and thanks so very much for including this little stop along the way.

Accidental Alpha - #12

After Stanley’s father left, Fenris sat on the floor with the wolf petting his mate and massaging his furry legs. Sometimes the first shift ached like a son of a bitch. Stanley licked him on the cheek.

“Yes, I know. It hurts a bit but only the first few times. You did a good job protecting me, but I want human Stanley now. Do you think you can be human?”

The wolf gave a soft whimper.

Fenris scratched Stanley behind the ears. “Come on. Think of long legs, smooth skin.”

Another whimper.

Paul came to stand beside Fenris. He folded his arms as he looked down at the wolf. “If you can’t be human, you can’t fuck Fenris.”

A loud crackle filled the room. Stanley’s body elongated and his fur sank into his skin in an odd reverse growth process as if his humanity sucked the animal inside. Within minutes the wolf became human.

“There you are,” Fenris smiled down at his mate.

“Ow,” Stanley said. He accepted Fenris’ hand to pull him to his feet.

“My father is an asshole. Don’t listen to anything he says,” Stanley pulled Fenris close. “My mother is going to kick his butt when she learns what he’s been up too.”

Fenris rubbed his cheek against Stanley’s discreetly marking him.

Paul snorted beside him. “Smooth Fenris.”

He wondered briefly if having Paul killed could be traced back to him.

The Alpha growled. Paul tilted his head and looked away. Fenris smirked against Stanley’s neck. He’d let Stanley take care of Paul for now, but if he continued to give them trouble Paul would have to find another pack if he wanted to stay alive. Some people judged the viciousness of a person by the strength of their wolf. Big mistake.

“Come Stanley let’s get you some clothes, go back to your place, and take care of whatever you need to take care of.”
Stanley ran a hand through his hair. “I need to call work.”

Fenris tilted his head. “What are you going to tell them?”

“It’s more about asking them when they want me to come clear out my desk. I’m pretty certain I’m fired.”
“What do you do?” Fenris had wondered about his lover’s occupation since the Overseer sneered at him.

Stanley shrugged. “I’m an Accountant.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

Stanley stilled for a moment as if really thinking about it for the first time. “Yeah, I really do. I like to take the small accounts and help new businesses figure out the best way to set up their companies. I special in Business Analysis.”
The sparkle in Stanley’s eyes told Fenris his mate really did enjoy his job.

“We can set you up as a private consultant. Werekin can use those kinds of services and no one would make a fuss if you need to take off during the full moon because everyone else will too.”

Fenris basked in his mate’s smile. “That’s a really good idea, Fenris,” Stanley said. “I think I would really enjoy that.” He frowned for a moment. “It would need some capital.”

“Don’t worry about that. The pack will provide for you as you get on your feet. We have a special fee for new changes. We call it the welcome to the werekin fund.”

To learn more about other Amber Kell releases go to www.amberkell.com

Sunday Entertainment

2011-11-06T19:12:00.006-05:00

A NEW PROJECT:

We're calling it the safe reading zone, in honour of those places where GLBT youth can find safe zones in their schools and communities; where they can find adults ready and willing to listen and give them a safe and sympathetic ear, shoulder, or whatever else they need. Authors are banding together to create virtual spaces on their blogs where youth (or anyone else) can go, comment, ask for help, or just find resources to get through tough times. My page is here: http://jaime-samms.net/safe-reading-zone/, comments are open, and if I can help, I will. The website is under development here: http://safereadingzone.com/
(Authors, if you would like to participate, please contact me or any of the other authors listed on the website)

In Weekly exciting things I came across:

Cool Beans:

Damon Suede's book, Hot Head is up for Best Romance on Goodreads Reader's Choice awards.

I read it. (And talked about it.) A lot. I know it's one of my top reads of 2011. Check out his competition, too. Who wouldn't do Very Bad Things to get on that short list? Way to go, my friend!!!

http://www.goodreads.com/awardâ€

www.goodreads.com

Check out Johnny Miles' interview in Queer Magazine Online. I met this guy in New Orleans, and he's fantastic, sweet, and incredibly kind. You can hear his enthusiasm in this interview in which he tells his age, among a lot of other things, and really, Johnny? I totally did not get that 'old guy' vibe off you, dude! Lol! Also, Johnny wrote Learning to Samba, which I loved.

ON THE HOME FRONT

If you are eight and wickedly creative, this piano bench is an interstellar motorcycle with on-board water blasters and built-in flexi-armour. Who knew. Probably not the people who moved and gave us the piano for the cost of moving it. Sucks to be them :D

AND PUBLISHER STUFF

New releases from Pink Petal Books this week: Have a gander at the Newsletter

Friend Release: Jambrea Jo Jones

2011-11-01T10:52:00.000-04:00

Jambrea's Back with yet another release. No idea how she write so much, with all she has to do, but there it s, and I've been waiting for this one. I got to see some sneak peaks, and I want. It released yesterday, and so now, I am off to get. :)

Rayne's Wild Ride

It gets better.

Rayne Carr was riding his bike, minding his own business when his life was forever changed. Driving over State Boulevard Bridge he sees a woman about to jump and intervenes. Appearances can be deceiving.

Charles Sylvester Piper, III wants to end it all. No one understands him. His father is abusive and his mother hides in a bottle. When his younger brother finds Piper in his favourite dress he is kicked out of his basement apartment. With nowhere to turn he leaves his life to fates hands. When a big scary biker asks for a kiss on the worst night of his life, who is he to refuse.
Is love really all you need?

Reader Advisory: This book contains cross dressing.

Excerpt From: Rayne's Wilde Ride

By reading any further, you are stating that you are 18 years of age, or over.
If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
Copyright © Jambrea Jo Jones, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.

Rayne Carr enjoyed a nice ride through the quiet city. Just him and his Harley. Stars brightened the sky without a cloud to mar his vision. The State Boulevard Bridge was coming up and he liked to park there on his late nights and stare out at the water below with the city sounds behind him. It was peaceful after the day he’d had. Some days he hated being the oldest of six and head of his family. But only fleetingly, because he loved each and every one of his brothers and sisters and wouldn’t trade them for anything.

He turned the corner and something seemed out of place. Was that—? It couldn’t be. As Ray got closer he saw the back of a woman, her straight, long, black hair almost reaching a cute, firm ass covered by a short skirt. How she kept her balance on the handrail of the bridge in those heels, Ray had no idea. She had nice legs, but what the hell was she thinking?

Startling her was a bad idea. She’d fall for sure. He revved the bike to alert her before coming to a stop and lowering the kickstand. Traffic had been light so he figured he had to be the first one to see the woman. There was no way she’d be missed as a person drove by, the street lights had her illuminated. Ray took off his helmet, set it on the seat, put his blinkers on and casually walked over.

"Um. Excuse me. Miss? What exactly are you doing up there?" He spoke softly because he was a big bear of a man and didn’t want to scare the poor thing. He knew he came off looking rough, being six-three with a barrel chest. The tats and beard probably didn’t help either. He looked like what he was—a biker.

"I’m going to jump." The woman never turned around. Her voice was low and husky. It caressed his ears.

Ray moved closer so he could grab her hand and yank her off the rail if the ridiculous idea he’d just concocted to distract her from jumping failed.

"A kiss!" he blurted. "Could I kiss you goodbye? That is, if you really think you need to jump." Suave he wasn’t, but he’d never been in a situation like this before and would hope if it was one of his siblings someone would try and help them any way they could.

The woman finally turned. She was a vision of beauty with high cheekbones, dark sherry- coloured eyes and a small pert nose. Red plump lips, just meant for kissing, framed the most gorgeous mouth. He couldn’t tell how old she was. Her face had a timeless quality. She was short and slim and the shirt she was wearing hid her breasts so it looked like she had none, but that didn’t distract from her looks at all.
"Okay, but no touching." The girl sat down on the railing and leaned towards him. Ray licked his lips in anticipation. He wanted the kiss more than he should. This woman was troubled and he was just trying to help.

Keep telling yourself that, Hoss. Maybe you’ll believe it.

Ray ignored the inner voice and gently pressed his lips to the woman’s. He’d only wanted to get her in a better position to drag her away from the edge, but it turned into more.

She whimpered and opened her mouth, touching his lips with her tongue. Ray opened to let her explore. She was hesitant at first, but that didn’t last long. The woman tangled her hands in his hair and cradled him between her legs. Ray wanted to press their bodies together, but she resisted so he didn’t push it.

Finally they broke apart. Ray was stunned. He’d never been kissed so passionately before. Sure, he’d had his fair share of women, and men for that matter, but something about the kiss was more than he’d ever thought possible.

"Damn, girl! A woman who kisses like that should not deprive the world of her talent. I’m Ray by the way. Rayne Carr. Please tell me why you’re thinking of diving off the bridge." He rested his forehead on hers and hoped she would answer.

She pulled him closer and his dick hardened. This was so inappropriate it wasn’t even funny. Wait, was that—?

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1399

Friend Release: Carol Lynne: Sunset Ridge

2011-10-27T21:35:00.002-04:00

It is with great pleasure (and much anticipation!!!) that I announce my friend, Carol Lynne has at last released (Well, On this coming Monday, October 31, but it's available for pre-order) her next story: Sunset Ridge.

If you don't know about Carol, you should. I've lifted her short bio from her author page at Total E-bound: An avid reader for years, one day Carol Lynne decided to write her own brand of erotic romance. Carol juggles between being a full-time mother and a full-time writer. These days, you can usually find Carol either cleaning jelly out of the carpet or nestled in her favourite chair writing steamy love scenes.

Check out the blurb, for starters: After the death of his father, Grayson Conner finds himself running, Sunset Ridge Stables, a prosperous horse breeding operation just outside of Wellington, Arkansas. Since riding a horse for the first time, Gray has known running the ranch would be his destiny. Years spent watching his father negotiate and build the ranch into a highly respected operation prepared him well.

In need of a manager to oversee the hired hands, Gray hires Jack “Ram” Ramsdale, a sexy temptation that could spell nothing but trouble. For years, Gray managed to keep his sexual preferences away from the ranch, but the introduction of Ram into his life changes everything.

Ram fell in love with Sunset Ridge Stables the first time he stepped foot on the ranch with its rolling green hills and views to take a person’s breath away. The handsome ranch owner is definitely a bonus, but more than anything Ram is searching for a place to belong.

With temptation at his fingertips, Gray gives in to his feelings and begins an intense affair with his new manager. For a few blissful months he believes he can have it all, the ranch and a man he loves at his side. When local gossip threatens the reputation of the Sunset Ridge, Gray and Ram are forced to make an important decision. Give up their relationship or lose everything they’ve worked for.

Now anyone who has read a Carol Lynne book knows this is going to be fantastic!!! Pre-Order it here, because you know you want hot cowboys as much as I do!!!

Book Talk: Keeping Promise Rock by Amy Lane

2011-10-20T20:03:00.002-04:00

Keeping Promise Rock

I'm about two thirds (?I think?) of the way through this. The book seems to start somewhere near the end of the story, I think. At least, it had better, because I'm at the part where Crick leaves, and damn you, Amy Lane, if this doesn't end how I sincerely hope it will end, you and i? We will have a serious, sit-down, heart-to-heart discussion which will begin with: "What the hell were you thinking, you evil authoress!?!?!"

But I'm sure, in fact, I'm absolutely positively certain that you wouldn't do what it appears from the first part of this book you've done. You wouldn't. You couldn't. Not you. Not you who wrote Talker. And Talker's Redemption. And the third book, which I hear is a sweet, happily-ever-after bit of fluffiness those two deserve.

Crick and Deacon deserve it, too, Miss Amy Lane. If this is a Bittersweet title and I didn't know? THere will be sad times ahead.

Friend Release: Lex Valentine: Encounters, Weylyn's Gift

2011-10-07T09:59:00.000-04:00

The release I wanted to show off today is, yes, another het, but no one writes het like my pal Lex. This universe where Weylyn's Gift is set is so rich in detail and chuck full of shifters, and dragons and all kinds of fantastic creatures of magic, and this book is just one more painting in that beautiful tapestry that includes both het and m/m love stories. I've read a few shorts and snippets, and am stoked that there are more to come.

Thanks to Lex for sharing her new release with me today :)

Buy link: http://pinkpetalbooks.com/Encounters-Weylyns-Gift-by-Lex-Valentine.html

Blurb:
Werewolf Weylyn Randall is bi-sexual and happily carefree. He spends his nights fucking and playing bass in a band. His days are spent recuperating for another go-round when the sun goes down. Nothing gives Weylyn more pleasure than getting his “were” on. After years of this hedonistic lifestyle he doesn’t think there’s a mate out there for him. He’s happy having encounters with whomever strikes his fancy and hooking up with best friend and occasional lover, Drake Keating, whenever possible. Then Drake sends him a gift in a plain brown wrapper. Along with the gift comes a magical woman and between the two, they unleash the next phase in Weylyn’s wild sex life.

Excerpt:
Nothing about the brown cardboard box seemed out of the ordinary. It had normal computer-generated shipping labels, simple and lacking in any information whatsoever about the sender. The return address belonged to a company called “Plain Brown Wrapper.” The name made Weylyn instantly suspicious. Any company with a name as innocuous as that had to be anything but plain.

Weylyn shook the box. It made a whooshing sound as the contents slid around inside. He grimaced, realizing he’d never know what was inside the box unless he opened it. Taking out a pocket knife, he slit the packing tape carefully, preoccupied with trying to figure out which of the people he’d fucked recently had sent him a present. He was confident enough in his abilities as a lover to know that he hadn’t left anyone angry and unsatisfied, so the package couldn’t be anything but a gift.

He put away the pocket knife and peeled back the flaps of cardboard. Lifting out the crinkled brown packing paper, he found a flat cellophane package with bright neon pink plastic contents. Weylyn frowned. Pink wasn’t exactly his color, and he couldn’t imagine anyone buying him a pink anything. Upon closer inspection, he decided that it looked like some kind of floating device like a raft for the pool.

Weylyn pulled the package out and ripped open the cellophane, taking out the hunk of pink plastic. His sensitive werewolf nose crinkled as a strong scent assailed him. Whew! Whatever it was, it stunk to high heaven. Petroleum based products always reeked and he had a nose more sensitive than most. Whoever sent him the gift either hadn’t realized how delicate his nose was, hadn’t really thought about how stinky plastic might be or didn’t care.

As Weylyn began to unfold the pink plastic, he discovered that the sender hadn’t cared about the stink of the plastic. He held in his hands a gag gift. At least, he figured it for a gag gift. The plastic turned out to be a pink blow up chair… with a big thick dildo attached to the seat.
He frowned at the chair for a long moment. Then he began to grin. As he reached for the box to search for a card, he began to laugh. It had been a long time since he’d seen anything so amusing. Now, he wanted to know who had sent it. Obviously, the sender knew he was bi-sexual. The chair wouldn’t be nearly as funny if he’d been straight.

His hands touched a sheet of paper. Pulling it out, he read.

“Hey Wey!

I was sure you would like this. I tried to get it in blue, but they were out of that color. I know that sometimes you get nothing but pussy thrown your way. This chair is for those times you’re missing some male action. After all, I wouldn’t want you to fall out of practice. See you the next time your band comes to NYC.

Drake”

So maybe it wasn’t exactly a gag gift after all, Weylyn thought, fingering the thick dildo. In fact, come to think of it, the stiff rubber dick resembled Drake’s cock. The shape of the head, the thickness of the base, the way the veins stood out…

Weylyn grinned as he realized that he’d become aroused. Not that it took much. A horn dog at the best of times, getting his “were” on was his primary goal in life. After his music, of course. Luckily, his music usually made it really easy to get his were on. His innate wolfish attractiveness didn’t hurt either. And he had an outgoing and fun loving personality. It was a combination most people couldn’t resist, which meant he never suffered from a shortage of partners.

A hunt through his closet produced a pump to blow up the chair. Once filled with air, Weylyn set it down facing his television. He stared at it with a little smile curling his lips. Drake loved to fuck. He’d loved fucking Weylyn so the chair wasn’t exactly a gag gift. Still, it amused Weylyn.

He left the chair in the living room of his small flat and went into the bedroom. He had a gig tonight and had to get ready. He didn’t have time for the chair at the moment. After a shower, he dressed in leather jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt, and boots. He smudged a little black eyeliner under his eyes and ran a hand through his damp brown waves. Done with his primping, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He stopped, the door halfway open, and looked back at the chair.

Damn. It looked totally hot just sitting there waiting for someone to use it. Weylyn’s cock stirred, and he quickly eyed the clock. A discreet cough from the other side of his door made his head jerk around toward the sound. His gaze met the amused jade gaze of a woman he’d never seen before.

“Nice chair,” she murmured in a husky voice.

“Gag gift,” Weylyn replied shortly, looking her up and down, and feeling oddly shell-shocked.

What stood before him was far hotter than the pink chair. Nicely rounded full breasts on a petite body. Long, dark silky hair spilled over slender shoulders in a thin t-shirt. Wide dark green eyes in a small triangular face. A pert nose. Moist pale pink bowed lips. A tiny beauty mark at the corner of those smiling lips. Oh, yeah, he thought as lust roared to life within him.

“Mmm. I can see what part would gag you,” she purred, her eyes glowing preternaturally.

It can only get better from there :D

My Weekend of Dreamspinner win

2011-09-30T18:24:00.002-04:00

So, this weekend, there is a sale at Dreamspinner: 25% off while you're shopping. Woot!

But wait. It gets better.

Halloween Howl from Dreamspinner Press

Meet Gary:

To celebrate Halloween, Dreamspinner is inviting people to come trick-or-treating at our web site. Thirty-one of our fantastic authors have donated free short stories. Search through the different pages on the web site for Gary the gargoyle. Each time you find him, click on him for a free download by the author whose page he's hiding on! And make sure to check out the end of each story for a discount code good any time in the next year.

Links to the short stories go live October first.

But wait! There's more! lol. Yes, that's right, folks, more good news. Maybe for me more than anyone else, but today I signed a contract for my first Dreamspinner novel. Not short Story. Not Novella or Day dream or anything else. Novel. WOOT!

So yes, my we eked = Dreamspinner win. I'm going to search for Gary and some free reding. How about you?

Enjoy!

Book Talk: Rob Rosen's Southern Fried

2011-09-26T07:54:00.006-04:00

Written as though the main character is sitting next to you in your favorite watering hole telling you the story of his Granny's funeral, this book certainly has a comfortable feel. Even while the author has broken down those walls between reader, character and author, I still feel a bit distanced from Trip. On the other hand, I think I'm meant to feel that there seem to be layers of all kinds in this book, the idea floating over everything that none of it is what it appears to be, and Trip keeps everyone at a distance, even when he's talking to you on this intimate a level. It's odd and at the same time, oddly fitting for a book narrated by a southern boy of breeding.

I'm enjoying this book so far, because it's interesting to see how a character can be shaped so well just by the voice with which the author choses to tell that character's story. This book is anything but typical, and that's what I like. Maybe not everyone will appreciate the laid back distance the MC uses to tell his tale, but I do love the way the technique builds an extra diminution into Trip's personality and into the book itself.

I'm ready to read on and find out who the mystery man is.

Book Talk: Karenna Colcroft's Salad on the Side

2011-08-01T20:53:00.002-04:00

I'm going to admit, this book is not what I expected. And now that I'm into it, I honestly can't really tell you what I did expect. I guess, mostly, it's Tobias who is nothing like the typical Alpha I expected. Understand, I don't read a lot of werewolf or other shifter books, so I'm going mostly by what I hear people say about them, or the few I have read. Even still. Tobias is not very typical, I don't think.

Not that there's anything wrong with his character as a character. So far, I quite like him, actually. He's sensitive, kindhearted, and compassionate, logical and thoughtful. As an Alpha Werewolf, I'm not quite seeing him being strong enough, though. From what I've read so far, the main POV character, newly turned Kyle has a lot more forceful a personality that Tobias, and yet, Tobias is supposed to be an unusually strong Alpha, given he's so young and a local pack leader, much older and wiser than he has accepted a truce with him. I actually quite like the idea he's as strong as he is because of these unexpected qualities in him, and there's lots of room yet for his character to develop and the author to sell me on why all these unexpectedly softer qualities in what, in any other hero might be considered beta attributes, will make him a true leader. I bet she can do it.

Another strange and inexplicable plot point is Tobia's inability to control his newest wolf as he does the rest of his pack That control is partly due to any Alpha's ability to compel his pack members with his geas. Well, it doesn't work on Kyle. Why? Curious, but given newly-turned wolves are supposed to be unpredictable and possibly dangerous, I thought this lack of ability to control Kyle should be causing more worry than it does. Tobias doesn't seem particularly bothered by it, so long as Kyle agrees to pretend he's under Tobias' control. And since Kyle seems to care for Tobias, I'm willing to buy that he agrees and fully means it. (despite the fact he's made it perfectly clear he doesn't take well to authority of any kind) And also, since I'm less than half way through, I'm guessing that the lack of compulsion is due to the fact that Kyle and Tobias are mates (just a guess, mind you), and in my very personal opinion, it would be all kinds of wrong if one mate had the ability to compel the other to do anything against their will, so I like that the compulsion doesn't work on Kyle. I just wish Tobias had a better understanding of why, or more concern over it.. One or the other.

In any case, this is shaping up to be a really interesting read, and the fact I have questions isn't a point of detraction at all. It's making me really want to get back to the story and find the answers. So far, very much enjoying this story.

radio Interview

2011-07-27T15:44:00.001-04:00

promotion

So today has been a busy day. First it's a release day, and I'll give you the link for that in a minute. More interesting for me today is that a local radio host contacted me and asked for an interview about my stories. Now, he did contact me two weeks ago, but since he got busy and I heard nothing more from him after I pointed him to my website, I supposed he'd found someone more interesting than li'l old me to talk to.

Imagine my surprise to hear from him this morning and him asking if I could make it in for a radio interview this afternoon. Of course, I swallowed my hopeless nerves and said yes. Mostly, we talked about why. Why a straight girl from suburbia writes man on man erotic romance. Wish I had found a better answer for him than 'because' but there it is. I write the stories how they come to me. If you want to hear the interview and you're in an area where it airs, try this link: http://www.cbc.ca/video/radio-popup.html?networkKey=cbc_radio_one&programKey=sudbury

It airs on Sudbury CBC one, Points North at 4:40 Eastern. My huge thanks to Jason Turnbull for this chance to talk about something so important to me.

Now. The new release: New Linen http://www.cbc.ca/video/radio-popup.html?networkKey=cbc_radio_one&programKey=sudbury

Four Strong Women: What Did I Miss?

2011-07-20T08:21:00.001-04:00

Four Strong Women: What Did I Miss?

Stop by today and share your thoughts with me on the double standard that is the boy/girl dichotomy. What is so wrong with being a girl, anyway? (Guys, I would especially love your thoughts here. Help me understand)

Book Talk: Kennedy and Ford's Dash and Dingo

2011-07-13T20:04:00.002-04:00

Before you tell me I'm behind, I know. Should have read this one a long time ago. Oh well. Here I am now, on page 54, and how can you not love these guys? They should feel more cliche than they do, but somehow, they just touch the edge of trope and each time you think they'll fall in, they back away. Dash shows an unexpected glimmer of daring-do or mouthiness or wit, and Dingo goes a bit soft, a bit uncertain, a bit, well, a bit sweet.

And there's no denying these two are sweet on each other. You can't not see it, even this early.

Truth be told, though on pg 54 of about, what? 300? I'm kind of hankering for the action to start. And I'm not just talking about the follow through on the flirting and heavy sighing. I'm talking about the wild animal hunt, the jungles of Australia, and the Indiana Jones excitement. Not that I'm not enjoying the interaction between the two immensely. I definitely am. Just sayin' When does the adventure really start?

book Talk: T.A. Chase's Why I Love Geeks

2011-07-11T00:45:00.000-04:00

I'm almost done this one. my big question; how many authors can get away with a protagonist named Herbert in a romance? I guess it helps that it's a comedy, but Herbert? I wasn't convinced. Then Herb opened his mouth. wow. I cannot even begin to imagine how T.A. Came up with that stream of consciousness. the things the character comes out with, most of the time, really should get hike strangled just to shut him up. I'm not quite done yet, but I do want to know what.s up with Burke and McKinley. If it isn't fixed in this book, I hope they get a story of their own, because that's got me intrigued.

it's been an entertaining read, that's for sure.

Book Talk: Damon Suede's Hot Head

2011-07-05T14:40:00.002-04:00

Not even a third of the way into this book and I have that love/hate thing going on that I relish.

There is angst aplenty, so there's that to love.

There is also that fine line between mis-communication and TSTL. (Too stupid to love) I know. I changed that last word. Did that on purpose.

Take two firends: both firefighters, both dancing the edge of PTSD and a death wish, and clearly (to me) in love with each other. Also, both straight. Whatever. That's relative.

So the story is told from Griff's POV and he has come to terms with the idea he's in love with his best friend, even if he has no idea what to do about it. So we get to watch things unfold from his POV, and wonder why he doesn't see. Dante needs to talk to him, tried to get him out of the bar, only to give in the moment Griff has an annoying chick hanging off him. That turns into a no-go, Dante tries A) get him into a threesome (Griff declines, horrified Dante will notice he doesn't give a rat's ass about the girl between them) B) get him drunk and take him home and talk to him. (brilliant plan, dimwit. Griff doesn't remember what happened and is horrified to find himself waking up naked in Dant's bed with the other man's arm across his chest and Griff's morning wood tenting the sheets) C) talk him into porn for money. (Griff just thinks this is bad, bad, bad idea and is, though he does't say do, heart-stopping jelous. (And fascinated that now he can see Dante beat his meat any time he wants, and that is more pervy and tempting than Griff can handle))

All classic "I'm-in-love-with-you-and-can't-say-it-dumbass schemes. All doomed to failure.

I don't see this getting better for either of them any time soon.

Add to all this the zingingly fast prose, the raunchy voice, the down and dirty need oozing out of every thought Griff has, and smeared all over the page in gritty dialogue and plain, no-muss language, and I know I should be writing my own shit right now. I know I should. But it's so hard to not want to keep reading....

Book talk: Amy Lane's Talker

2011-07-03T21:20:00.000-04:00

I'm...what? less than half way through this book, and holy hell. Really? I am amazed

Ms. Lane has caught my attention, for sure with (Please note, this might spoil the book for you if you haven't read it, which, really, you should)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
one hero who's parent's died when he was six, he's been home schololed since then, high school was a trial for him, lonely, difficult, and desperate. He's awkward, shy, not very good at socializing, and oh, can i relate. So he's burried all that in a lot of meaningless, passionless sex with girls who just think he's cute.

The other hero was almost burned alive as an infant in a fire that killed his mother, was raised by a bastard of a father and spent his entire life hiding his scars behind tattoos, mowhawks and far out there gayness, yet never letting a single guy close enough to him to actually touch him, never mind love him.

Then she let him get hurt real bad.

It's clear they love each other. Clear they are in love with each other. Clear they are right for each other.

But Ms. Lane has keptt hem apart, as any good romance writer would, but not by just putting a barrier between them. She's put the fucking Berlin Wall between them, and each brick in that wall is made from all the kindness and care they've shown each other since they met.

How does one create conflict for characters out of the very feelings you actually want them to feel for each other? I have no idea. I'm not Amy Lane. But I do want be a writer of her
caliber some day.

Now. Back to the book.

Jambrea Jo Jones Visits!!

2011-05-24T09:32:00.002-04:00

Jaime is letting me come out to play! Lol I have a new release. It’s an m/m/f story. This is a sequel to Retribution, an m/m space story. The new one is called Salvation. The series is called Alliance. I LOVE sci-fi. I love to read it, I love to watch it and I love to write it. You’re mind can go just about anywhere. I love to create worlds. It’s so much fun!

Thanks for stopping by, Jambrea. You know I've been bugging you about this sequel for...well, since the first on came out. And it's finally here!!!!! WOOT!!!!

So here is the blurb and excerpt.

Salvation: Can three people save each other?

Rock is a gun runner who was set in life. The only thing missing is a partner. He thinks it could be Sela, but he wants to be sure he isn't after her because she reminds him of an old crush. When Dr. Alexander d'Ado explodes onto the scene, he is a goner. Can he have his cake and eat it too?

Zander is a scientist who lives for his work. He is usually oblivious to anything else. When his ship explodes around him can he find salvation in two roughened warriors? He has no idea why someone would be after him, but the three race to find out before someone kills him.

Will the trio find love while on the run?

Reader Advisory: This story contains m/m intimacy as part of a polyamorous relationship, non-consensual sex, sexual assault and graphic violence.

EXCERPT:

Excerpt From: Salvation

“What the fuck?” Rock stumbled as the ship shuddered. He looked up as Sela ran onto the bridge. “Hold on to something. A ship just exploded in our path.” He focussed on steering the Salvation out of the flames but something caught his eye. “Se, there’s an emergency pod! See if you can find their frequency and hail them,” Rock said over his shoulder, fully expecting her to jump to it. She was efficient that way. He scanned the area to see if there were any other emergency crafts, but didn’t see any other pods in the aftermath of the explosion.

“I’m supposed to be on vacation. I didn’t sign up for this,” Se grumbled.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” It came out more harshly than he’d intended, but they were in crisis mode right now.

“Rave wouldn’t have forgiven me if I’d let you go on a gun run on your own,” she said clearly, then he thought he heard her mumble, “Stupid libido.”

“I’ve been doing this solo for a while. I don’t need my hand held by Rave and your cousin. Or you for that matter. Shit. Someone’s shooting at the pod. You get a frequency yet?” Rock threw back at her.

“I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Go faster,” he snapped. He wasn’t irritated with her but he needed to get to the pilot of that pod. He’d apologise later. Maybe.

“Damn it, Rock. If you don’t like my speed, do it yourself.”

“Stop arguing with me. I’d like to find out why my gun sale went south.” He didn’t understand her need to fight him at every turn. Most days it was a turn-on, but this wasn’t the time or the place for his cock to take charge.

“What are you talking about?” Se sounded peevish.

“That ship was my contact. Maybe whoever escaped in the pod has the answers I need.”

“Put more pressure on me, why don’t you?” Se said under her breath.

“Se!” He was about to lose what little sanity he had left. Didn’t she know that?

“It isn’t the fate of the world. It’s one gun sale.” Se sighed, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Those guns were going to a planet being overrun with marauders. The inhabitants need to protect themselves or they’ll be enslaved. So, yeah, the fate of someone’s world could be at stake. We need that pod.” They were going to have to do something about the sexual tension between them soon because he couldn’t take the fighting anymore. He’d rather be fucking. And now wasn’t the time. Damn.

“Stop it with the bleeding heart stuff. I’ve got them,” Se mumbled almost to herself.

“I’m the bleeding heart?” That made him smile. He’d never been known for his sympathy. Not that he wasn’t sympathetic, but money was a bigger motivator.

Se laughed. “Just talk to the pod. You’re keyed in.”

And just like that, his sanity was back. They really did work well together.

“Emergency pod, this is the captain of the Salvation. Do you need assistance?”

There was no response. Fuck. That couldn’t be good.

“Are you sure this is right?” He looked over at Se.

“Yes. They probably don’t know if we are friend or foe. They did just come off an exploding ship and who knows who’s there or what shape they’re in.” Se shrugged.

“This is the captain of the Salvation. We will shelter you. Please acknowledge,” Rock tried again, realising that Se was correct—anyone could be in there and only a handful of people had known he was meeting up with the ship.

“How do you use this thing? Hello? Hello?” A masculine voice floated over the airwaves.

Rock bit back a shout of relief. “I hear you. Do you need us to bring you in?”

On screen, another shot hit the pod. Rock couldn’t look away—it was like a bad vid streaming in 3D, and he had front row seats.

“Rock, you need to get that ship in here or it’s going to fall apart.” Se’s worry coloured her voice.

“Emergency pod, we’ve got a lock on you. Don’t touch anything. We’re bringing you in.” Rock manipulated the controls and the pod slowly inched its way towards the Salvation.

Come on, come on.

It was taking forever. Or seemed to be. He needed to upgrade his fucking equipment.

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1218

Jenn Nixon Visits

2011-05-10T10:03:00.000-04:00

Morning everyone. So Jenn Nixon is on a hop-about through cyber space, and today, her stop is here on my blog. I've read the blurb for her upcoming release in a number of places, and I have to say, it intrigues me. She's sharing it here, along with a little excerpt, and check out that cover art.

Blurb: Veronica Chance’s sister has gone missing. In order to find Valerie, “Roni” takes a waitressing job at Foxxes Gentlemen’s Club, the last place her sister worked, to search for clues. First day on the job, the club owner makes her give a lap dance to his VIP guest, Mr. Storm. Veronica’s instant attraction to him spells trouble and threatens to blow her cover.

Former detective Mason Storm can’t deny the connection he feels for the wild and mysterious Roni. During the lap dance, he learns about her missing sister, offers his help, only to be rejected. Not ready to give up, he confronts her again, adding in the fact he’s see her sister in the club, but she denies him once more.

When Veronica calls, acting rather strangely, Storm finds her at the club, drugged and giving a lap dance to a kid at an illegal after party. Grateful for the help, Veronica comes clean about who she is, and accepts Storm’s offer to help. Together, they unravel the clues surrounding Valerie’s disappearance, uncover the horrible truth behind the illegal after parties, all the while exploring and succumbing to their lustful desires for each other.

Excerpt:

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to get busted…you don’t have to do this,” Mason said.

“He’s probably going to watch,” Starr replied, eyes roving to the spots Karl had surveillance. Now why would a waitress know where the cameras were? “And it’s my first day.” She stepped close, drawing his attention. Long shapely legs, covered to the knees in leather, straddled his thigh. Her hips and waist were within reach, and her full bust directly eye level.

She swayed back and forth, stunningly hypnotic.

When she moistened her lips and spun around giving him a rear view, the blood rushed from Mason’s brain. Starr bent down and pressed her ass against his thighs, his entire body flashed with heat. She grinded in a circular motion, awakening and enlarging him surprisingly fast. Spinning again, she dropped to his lap, put her hands on his shoulders, and stared down at him.

With her face clear, he tried to remember where he’d seen her.

She gyrated, eyes seductively peering down. He fought the strain in his jeans with each movement, though she made it impossible. She was hotter than hell during a heat wave. Starr lifted one leg, straddled a single thigh and shook her hips again. The woman bit her bottom lip. So naughty. So his type, he loved it.

Then an image of her with red hair flashed in his mind. She’d been in the club, disguised, sitting alone at the bar, drinking here yesterday. He glanced up at her, knew he was right.

Coming May 15th from Tease Publishing

Jenn Nixon resides in New Jersey. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and Liberty State Fiction Writers. Her love for thrillers and suspense often finds its way into her novels whether they are Science Fiction or Romance. When not writing, Jenn spends her free time reading, absorbing pop culture and current events, and social networking online. For more information please visit www.jennnixon.com orhttp://jennafern.blogspot.com/

Interesting Call for Submission

2011-05-07T12:25:00.001-04:00

DO you remeber what it was like? I know I do. How can you forget those very formative years of growing up, through high-school and college? If they were good years, you want to remember them. If they were bad, you sometimes can't forget. Like many GLBT youth, my high school years were a very mixed bag of exciting, confusing, and very often, frightening and lonely.

How better to show the youth of today that they aren't alone than to tell our stories? That's why many of us write YA fiction, and why I've been contemplating it. So while I was out and about on the net searching out possible venues, I came across this: http://www.omgqueer.com/

So, I don't know that anyone of the age group that can submit a story to this anthology actually reads my blog, however, there might e someone who knows someone...you get the picture. There is a call out by Bold Strokes Book for a queer anthology about being young in today's environment: stories about coming out, or not coming out, fears, family, dating, and all that fun (and scary) stuff. The catch: it's for stories written by youth ages ~~18-24~~ 14-24 (edit). Very cool. here's the link again: http://www.omgqueer.com/ if anyone is interested.

Drea's Visiting Again!

2011-04-20T09:00:00.004-04:00

With her upcoming release, The Thrice Princess. It's available for pre-release at Secret Cravings Publishings, and it looks pretty good to me :) I do like that cover.

Buy Link: http://secretcravingspublishing.mybigcommerce.com/products/The-Thrice-Princess.html

Blurb: While her fate was set during the previous great wars of immortals, Anastasia Gruff is nothing but mortal until the night she stumbles upon a scene that turns her world upside down. Now, she struggles to adjust to a world where nothing is what it seems, and feels more at home than ever before.

Devlin Miconis, heir to the vampire throne, is facing certain death. When a mortal woman saves his life, and gives him back his soul, he must figure out how to repay her. Now that she has given him something to live for, can he protect her from those who mean her harm?

And, of course, and excerpt:

Excerpt: It was the end of his days. If the arrow currently protruding out of his chest wasn’t enough warning, then the seven-foot Dergon demon hovering over him with his sword aimed at his neck was a pretty significant sign. Devlin had lived just a little under three hundred years and had never been this close to death.

“You have taken your last drop of blood, leech.”

The last of his blood seeped through the hole in his chest, blurring the edges of Devlin’s vision. Out of no-where, a glint of silver crossed his vision. A thud filled his ears as the demon fell clutching his neck tightly. Pondering what had happened to the demon, Devlin very slowly turned his head to see a beautiful woman.

A human woman.

Crouching down to him, she looked at the arrow sticking out of his chest and began to speak. “I think it’s out for the count at the moment. Let’s see what we can do about this sharp pointy thing sticking out of your chest, shall we.”

Making slow persistent movements, Devlin turned to stare at his beautiful savior. Curly red hair settled around her heart shaped face. The length gathered back in a ponytail at the base of her neck, easily reached her shoulder blades. Startling green eyes looked down at him in worry, such eyes could belong only to a goddess. High cheekbones set off by a jaw line that brought more definition to her luscious lips—the bottom lip slightly bigger than the upper. A mouth made perfectly for his kisses, which is not something he should have been thinking about at that moment.

“Hey there big guy, I need you to stay with me so we can figure this out. At this point, would it be better to leave it in or pull it out?” she asked, pointing to the arrow sticking out of his chest.

Trying to keep an eye on the Dergon demon lying not five feet from them, Devlin spoke in a whisper to keep his chest from moving. “Pull it out.”

“Okay! I am gonna try my best, it looks like it’s in there pretty good.”

Shifting slightly she pulled the thoroughly worn sweater over her head, rolled it into a ball and left it at his side. Removing it left him with the tantalizing view of only a spaghetti strapped tank top to cover her cream-colored flesh. “We need something to keep pressure on the wound. You’ve lost enough blood as it is.”

Grabbing the arrow just above his chest, she braced herself to pull, but hesitated, fear and uncertainty shown in the depths of her eyes as she removed her hands from the arrow. Dropping them to her sides, the expression on her face changed with the contemplation of her choices.

Hissing in frustration of laying at anyone’s mercy who happened upon them, Devlin pulled his lips away from his teeth slightly elongating them. Studying him, she made no move to run.

“Please, just pull it out!” His chest felt like it was on fire.

“Are you sure this is the route to go? I don’t want to hurt you anymore then you already are. Judging by the fangs, it’s obvious that you’re not human.” Looking down with beseeching eyes, letting out a sigh, then with a shake of her head, she continued, “I just don’t want to kill you.”

That she would even be worried about his welfare was humbling. Devlin gasped as he made the mistake of trying to lift his head off the ground. “Wont… hurt…worse…than…now.”

“Okay. Don’t go getting your boxers in a twist.”

Find Drea Becraft through her social networks and blogs:

My Website: www.dreabecraft.webs.com

My Blog: www.dreabecraft.wordpress.com

My Facebook: www.facebook.com/#!/andreabecraft

Facebook Fan Page: www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Drea-Becraft/103481939716429

Twitter: www.twitter.com/dreabecraft

Publisher’s site: www.secretcravingspublishing.com/DreaBecraft.html

Buy Link: http://secretcravingspublishing.mybigcommerce.com/products/The-Thrice-Princess.html

Overdrive by Ariel Tachna

2011-04-12T00:17:00.000-04:00

Jaime has been kind enough to invite me to visit her blog again to celebrate the recent release of my novel, Overdrive, which is the story of a driver and co-driver in the World Rally Championship tour. For those who don’t know what that is, here’s a little video to help you see what my boys do for a living. This is not my video. I haven't ever had the chance to attend a World Rally Championship race, much less in Sweden, but it should at least give you an idea.

Enjoy!

Now that you understand the kinds of risks they live with on a daily basis, here’s an excerpt that includes their first race as a team.
Overdrive by Ariel Tachna
Now available from Dreamspinner Press

Buy link http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=2253&osCsid=cic24g35oqnlv55q4fj6pg3cu1
Blurb:
All his life, French racer Daniel Leroux has dreamed of one thing: winning the World Rally Championship. To do that, he needs a co-driver he can trust. If only he could find one….

At the end of a disastrous season, Daniel’s manager replaces his incompetent co-driver with Frank Dufour, a young Canadian whose rally team let him go because he was gay. Daniel’s in heaven, thinking he might find more than just a teammate, but his manager puts the brakes on, declaring Frank firmly off limits. Frank isn’t any more ready to risk his second—and last—chance at making it in the WRC, no matter how attractive he finds Daniel. Sex and cars don’t mix.

Amidst a bitter rivalry with another driver, sabotage attempts, extreme weather conditions, and the stress of racing, Daniel and Frank forge a partnership that defies the odds, but just as things start to heat up between them, a family emergency calls Frank away. Will they find their way back together or will the separation and the spotlight be too much for their fledgling love to survive?

Excerpt :

“There’s no fresh snow this morning,” Frank reported as they drove north to Hagfors for the service park and the day’s stages, “so the roads should feel very much like they did yesterday except for the better traction from the racing tires. The trick here is going to be not making mistakes. We don’t have to beat everyone else’s times. We have to stay in the race and place high enough to get points toward the championship.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said, “the winter rally almost always goes to one of the Nordic drivers, although Michaels took the stage last night.”
“A two-minute stadium course that was more showboating than anything else,” Frank scoffed. “I know he’s good on gravel, and he’s proven himself on ice in the past, but it isn’t a given that he’ll win. He’s had some pretty spectacular crashes on the ice too. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.”
“Let’s hope we don’t make any this time,” Daniel said.
“We won’t,” Frank replied, his voice confident. “Do you want to go over the pace notes for the first three stages again today, before the regrouping and service park at lunch time?”
“Yes,” Daniel said. “Going through them before the race helped keep things clear in my head for yesterday. Let’s not mess with success.”
They spent the rest of the drive to Hagfors to meet Isabelle and her mechanics, as well as the other drivers and race officials, discussing the stages to come. Isabelle shooed them away from the car the moment the service park time began, the four mechanics going over every inch of the car with as much care as if they hadn’t seen it in ages. Daniel would have made a comment about Isabelle second-guessing herself or not being sure she’d done the job right the first time, but she’d been surprisingly civil last night after the super special stage so Daniel hoped maybe Frank’s conversation with her had helped. He wouldn’t start anything if she didn’t.
Forty minutes later, the race officials called for the drivers to start lining up for the first stage. Daniel strapped in and took his place behind Ryan Michaels’s Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X. Daniel would start two minutes after Michaels did, enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about catching up with the American, not at the speeds they’d be driving, unless Michaels had a wreck or technical problems that slowed him down. He’d be happy with not losing time.
Michaels disappeared in a spray of snow, and Daniel drove into position, eyes fixed on the starter. It flashed one minute and started the countdown. He waited, foot hovering over the accelerator as the count continued. As it neared zero, he gunned the engine, foot still hard on the brake. The moment the counter hit zero, he released the brake, Frank’s voice in his ear guiding him through the bends. The car skidded beneath him on the bends, but their practice in the Alps held him in good stead and he managed the bends with enough control not to lose time. He clipped a snow bank on one curve, but it didn’t slow him down by more than a fraction of a second as he manhandled the car back to the race line and around the next bend. He’d have a second chance at that stretch of road this afternoon. Hopefully he wouldn’t make the same mistake a second time, but he’d worry about that during the break for lunch. For now he had to concentrate on the road in front of him, the car beneath his hands, and Frank’s voice talking him through the course.
Eleven minutes and thirty-three seconds after they started, they crossed the flying finish. “How’d we do?” Daniel asked Frank breathlessly as he slowed the car to normal speeds and started the trek to the next starting line.
“We won’t know until lunch, but it felt good,” Frank said, “other than the one snow bank. You ready for the next stage?”
“Bring it on,” Daniel said, flashing Frank a cocky grin as he navigated the narrow country roads, glad of the metal spikes on the tires even at normal speeds.
Michaels was already there ahead of them when they reached the second starting line of the day. They had a few minutes before the start of the next stage, so Daniel got out of the car to stretch a bit, hissing at the cold temperatures.
“Having problems there, Leroux?” Michaels sneered from his car.
“Not me,” Daniel shot back, stretching his back a little.
“Don’t worry,” Michaels added. “You won’t be eating my dust for long.”
“No, you’ll be eating mine,” Daniel retorted, finishing his stretches and returning to the car. “His ass is mine,” he said to Frank as he climbed back in the car.
Frank laughed. “Somehow I don’t think you mean that the way it sounded.”
Daniel scowled at his co-driver. “We can’t let him win the championship. Regardless of how he does during this rally, he’s going down for the season.”
“You bet, boss,” Frank agreed. “Are you set for the next stage?”
“All we need is the green light,” Daniel replied as Michaels’s start time arrived and he sped off down the course. Daniel pulled the car into position and prepared to tackle the third stage.

Sunday Six

2011-03-26T18:11:00.003-04:00

"Don't worry, Baby." Darian trailed a pattern of rough kisses over the side of Mikko's face and neck as his hand moved from Mikko's hip to the opening of his jeans. "I'll get you there. Don't I always?"

Mikko sighed, hips jerking into the touch of skin on aching, ready cock and he nodded, head bumping against stone. "Do it...need...to..."

This is from my latest WIP, the next Ageless book, used to be titled Severed, but since I'm carrying on through to the end, I think I'll call it Connections. Or something. Anyone who has read the other books might spot the inconsistency here...What can I say? I'm a rule-breaker.

Looking for more Six Sentence Sunday gems? Check out the Six Sentence Sunday blog.

Until next week :)

Inventor's Companion by Ariel Tachna

2011-03-10T09:00:00.000-05:00

Welcome Ariel Tachna, folks. One of my all time favorite authors. I've never met an Ariel book I didn't like. Or love, even, and the excerpt for this one is definitely promising. There two guys sound perfectly tough and tender, just right up my alley, and I hope yours, too.

Ariel, on why she went with steampunk...

Steampunk… it’s a word I’ve started hearing in the past year or so (and I’m sure I’m behind the curve on that one), but it’s not a genre I’d ever really explored.

Or so I thought. Then I started reading some steampunk and realized that what we call steampunk, the Victorians called science fiction. Anybody who’s been around my fiction or my Facebook or my live journal or pretty much anywhere else I share some part of myself will realize that I’m a lover of all things French, and as I started delving into steampunk, I realized one of my favorite French authors wrote “steampunk” over a century ago, only he didn’t call it steampunk. For Jules Verne, his novels were spectulative, the way things might develop. We know they took another track, but authors of traditional steampunk follow much the same train of invention Jules Verne imagined.

I, of course, never take the easy route. My “steampunk” novel fits some aspects of traditional steampunk in that it has a Victorian-esque society with strict rules of behavior and it has anachronistic steam-powered inventions. That’s where the similarity ends. For one thing, if I went with traditional Victorian society, I’d be battling the prejudices against homosexuality. I can do that. I’ve written historical novels where those prejudices and dangers were front and center, but I didn’t want to do that here. I had a different kind of plot in mind.

So why make it steampunk if I was going to break all the rules? Because it was fun. I liked playing around with inventions for Gabriel to make. I liked the society on the brink of upheaval. I liked creating a world where I made all the rules.

We’ll see what the traditionalists think of it, but I had fun writing it, so much so that I’ve started a spin-off with three of the minor characters as the main characters in the new book. We’ll see how it goes, but so far, so good!

The Inventor’s Companion by Ariel Tachna

Coming Friday from Dreamspinner Press

Buy link

Blurb:

Gabriel Blackstone’s world is divided quite clearly into castes. Everyone knows their place and abides by it. As an inventor in the merchant caste, his life is predictable in its routine until the night his best friends and assistants, Caleb and Andrew, purchase the time—and body—of a companion for his birthday. As an activist in the Caste Equality movement, everything Gabriel believes in tells him to refuse the gift, but then he meets Lucio. The beautiful and alluring companion is far more than the vapid courtesan he'd expected, and he can’t get the man out of his mind.

After that night, Gabriel tells himself to forget about Lucio, but a chance meeting at a ball makes it clear neither of them is willing to ignore the strange chemistry between them. It will take all their combined trust and cunning, plus the help of a wily aristocrat and a plucky political activist, to overcome the challenges of infidelity, abuse, and social stigma that lay along their road; however, Gabriel knows it will all be worth it if at the end of the day, he can call Lucio his own.

Excerpt:

Gabriel Blackstone adjusted his collar, the formal leather jacket uncomfortable in its unfamiliarity. In his workshop, he rarely wore anything over his shirtsleeves, and at home alone he wore even less, especially in the heat of the summer. His assistants and friends, Caleb Deahl and Andrew Lambert, had gone in together and purchased an evening out for him as a birthday present, though, so he had to make himself presentable. The gentlemen’s club where he was supposed to meet his companion for the evening was one of the most exacting in town, only allowing members to enter unless special arrangements were made. Gabriel had no idea how Caleb and Andrew had made those arrangements, but they were quite clear about where Gabriel was to go, so he had replaced his old breeches with fresh ones and dug out his cravat and coat, even going so far as to don a hat. He doubted he would wear it for long in this heat, but it gave him an air of respectability as he waited for the mechanized hansom that would bear him to his destination. The coach arrived in a whoosh of steam, making Gabriel wish he had left on the goggles he wore in his lab. Instead he shielded his eyes with his hand to protect them from the cinders as he gave the address to the driver and climbed inside.

The coach resembled a horse-drawn carriage, but a large engine took the place of the unpredictable animal, making the contraption dependable regardless of weather or traffic. Unsurprisingly, it had almost entirely replaced horse-drawn carriages except for the aristocrats who considered the horses a sign of their wealth. Gabriel envied the man who had invented the mechanical conveyance. He was surely a rich man because of it.

Gabriel wasn’t ready to retire just yet, but he was ready to have one of his inventions catch on enough to keep his workshop running instead of having to worry each month where he would find the funds to pay Andrew and Caleb or to buy the supplies he needed for his work. He’d enjoyed small successes here and there, but nothing big. As the coach carried him toward his destination, his mind shifted to the project in the basement of his workshop. Not even Caleb and Andrew knew about it yet. A flying chair that would allow people to travel short or long distances without having to sit in traffic or wait for a train. He was sure, if he could make it work, that it would be the discovery that made his name in the world. The Blackstone chair. Unfortunately he lacked the money he needed to invest in all the tools and supplies he would need to make an engine powerful enough to carry a person but light enough that its own weight would not hold it down. It worked in theory, but he had not completed a prototype yet, and no one would fund an idea as radical as this one based on theory, not without a big name inventor behind it anyway.

A rap on the roof of the hansom drew Gabriel from his musings. They had arrived at the club. Fighting with his collar once more, Gabriel descended and paid the driver. A burly man, clearly a guardian of the gate for all his formal attire, barred the door. “Your name?”

Gabriel might have taken offense at the lack of honorific, but the quality of his clothes proclaimed him to be part of the merchant caste even if the scales tattooed on the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger did not. Only the aristocracy escaped the process of being marked, their status in life proclaimed each time they shook hands.

They always shook hands.

“Gabriel Blackstone. I was told you were expecting me.”

The guardian scowled but checked his records, eventually opening the door to let Gabriel in. “Mind your manners. There’s quality folk inside.”

Gabriel did bristle at that comment. Although he did not have the wealth or social status of an aristocrat, he knew how to behave in society. “Mind your own,” he snapped. He pushed past the guardian, ignoring the increasing grumbles. He might not be an aristocrat, but he had the right to be here. His friends had paid for this evening, and Gabriel refused to let a lout like that stop him from enjoying every part of it.

His righteous indignation fizzled out when he caught sight of the other patrons of the club. Unlike him, they all wore silk and linen instead of leather and cotton. Even more strikingly, many of them wore gloves. Despite knowing he had bathed and laundered his clothes, Gabriel suddenly felt grimy next to their polished elegance. He almost retreated, his earlier determination aside, when a soft, smooth hand clasped his. “Mister Blackstone, I presume?”

Gabriel turned to see who had spoken his name, wondering as he did how anyone here would know him. He found the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on. “Yes, I’m Blackstone,” he choked out, not sure how he could make his voice work when every bit of his mind was taken with the vision in front of him. His companion had pitch black hair, pulled back into a long queue that fell below his collarbone as it lay across his shoulder. The locks contrasted sharply with fair skin that seemed never to have seen the sun. His eyes were the color of the dark chocolate Gabriel could rarely afford.

“I’m Lucio,” the other man said, his grip changing so that he shook Gabriel’s hand. “Your companion for the evening.”

Automatically Gabriel glanced down to where their hands met, catching sight of the tell-tale fan on Lucio’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Gabriel said, his mind reeling as he took in the number of ribs in the fan. Lucio was not merely pleasure caste. If Gabriel had counted correctly, he was the highest echelon of companion. Gabriel nearly flinched at the thought of what Caleb and Andrew must have paid to secure Lucio’s presence at the club.

“Perhaps we could find our table?” Lucio suggested smoothly. “We would draw less attention that way.”

Gabriel trailed along behind Lucio, his eyes raking over the companion’s body now that the beauty of the man’s face was denied to him. Lucio was almost as tall as Gabriel, but his lithe form gave him a much slighter appearance. His costume, nearly as elegant as that of the aristocrats who surrounded them, clung to his body in a way the other men’s clothing did not, highlighting the line of his back and the curve of his legs most provocatively. Lucio’s coquettish glance over his shoulder suggested he knew exactly the effect his appearance had on Gabriel, which pricked the inventor’s pride enough to want to be contrary. He would enjoy the evening and the companion’s company, but he would treat the other man as a friend or a colleague rather than as a body in which to take his ease.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Lucio said as he took a seat at the table in a private lounge, sprawling elegantly in the chair, “but I took the liberty of ordering a light repast for us. I was not sure you were familiar with the offerings.”

Lucio’s cultured tones bespoke an educated upbringing, everything but the fan on his hand giving the impression that he was one of the aristocracy. For a man who had more than once denounced the idiocy of the caste system to his friends, Gabriel found the illusion disturbingly arousing. Before Gabriel could reply, a server approached with a bottle of wine. He showed the label to Lucio who nodded his approval. The sommelier opened the bottle and poured a small amount into Lucio’s glass for him to taste. The companion sniffed delicately and sipped the wine. “Would you care to taste it as well?” he asked Gabriel.

“If it pleases your discerning palate, I’m sure it will be to my taste,” Gabriel said, not willing to show his ignorance in this setting. His clothes and the tattoo on his hand set him apart badly enough as it was.

Lucio nodded to the sommelier, who filled Gabriel’s glass before topping off Lucio’s. He left the bottle on the table and discreetly withdrew. Gabriel picked up the goblet and sipped at the wine as he had seen Lucio do, trying not to make a fool of himself. The flavor of the wine rippled over his tongue and up into his sinuses, filling his head with its richness, far more complex and potent than the liquor he was accustomed to drinking. He managed not to choke as he swallowed, approaching the next sip more cautiously.

“I understand you’re an inventor, Mister Blackstone,” Lucio said when Gabriel had recovered. “I’ve always been fascinated by machines.”

Gabriel almost scoffed at the blatant fawning, but he stopped himself with the firm reminder that Lucio had not chosen his lot in life any more than Gabriel himself had and that being a companion did not make Lucio unintelligent. “It is a fascinating field,” Gabriel agreed. “The new inventions over the past twenty years alone have changed the world as we know it.”

“It always amazes me when I think of the amenities our parents had to do without,” Lucio said enthusiastically. “I can’t imagine not having steam to heat my bath in the morning.”

Gabriel nearly choked on his wine again at the evidence of the luxury Lucio clearly enjoyed. Gabriel’s own bath had no such heat. He still warmed his water in pails over the fire and poured them by hand into his copper tub.

“It is an improvement indeed,” Gabriel agreed, trying not to imagine Lucio reclining in a marble tub, steam rising around his face and dampening his hair. He wondered cynically if the comment had been intended to summon just that thought, but Lucio’s face bore no guile. “I cannot imagine working by candlelight.”

“Such a prosaic example for an inventor,” Lucio chided flirtatiously. “Give me a better example, something you have contributed to our technological revolution.”

“My contributions have been small,” Gabriel demurred. “You have probably never seen them.”

“Don’t be modest,” Lucio insisted, leaning forward and taking Gabriel’s hand in his own, his thumb 55stroking the lines that crossed Gabriel’s palm.

The jolt of lust was undoubtedly what the companion had intended, reminding Gabriel where they were and why. Drawing his hand back, he shook his head. “Enough about me. Tell me about yourself instead.”

Lucio’s eyebrows jumped in surprise, making Gabriel wonder if no one had ever asked before. “I am a companion. What more is there to say?”

“You are fascinated by machines,” Gabriel said. “I’m sure that isn’t true of every companion, or if it is, perhaps I should have sought one out before.”

“Most are not,” Lucio said after a long moment, “unless perhaps they are out to dinner with an inventor and are not sure what else to talk about.”

“Then it was simply a ploy to draw me out?” Gabriel asked, frowning at the idea of being deceived.

“No,” Lucio replied quickly, reaching for Gabriel’s hand again, “but it is the kind of gambit we are taught so we might be pleasing company to our guests for the evening. It was felicitous that our interests coincided and I needed no ulterior motive to bring it up.”

That could be as much a lie as the rest, Gabriel knew, but he sensed honesty in Lucio’s words. Either the companion was telling the truth, or he was even better trained than Gabriel had imagined. The one saving grace in the entire conversation was Lucio’s willingness to admit to his wiles. Surely he would have hesitated to do so were he using them on Gabriel. Then again….

This was why Gabriel had always refused to hire a companion. He couldn’t trust a word any of them said. He prided himself on being a plain-spoken man, and their pretty ways were more than he could tolerate.

They were interrupted by the arrival of the first course of their dinner, a thin soup the color of the rich earth. The server placed the dishes in front of the two men and retired without saying a word. “What is this?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s onion soup,” Lucio said before he tasted it. Gabriel watched in fascination as the companion’s eyes closed and a look of bliss crossed his face. Gabriel’s gut clenched at the idea of seeing that look again in more intimate settings. He pushed the thought aside. He had already decided not to take advantage of the companion’s charms. He did not need release so badly that he would take it meaninglessly in the potentially unwilling body of the man across the table from him. Lucio might have been born into the pleasure caste, barely one step above servants, but that did not mean Gabriel had to demean him that way. Looking at the quality of Lucio’s clothes, the elegance of his coiffure, Gabriel saw little to suggest any lack in Lucio’s life, certainly nothing compared to the way Gabriel lived. Lucio might not have had a choice in his profession, but he had clearly thrived at it. Even so, Gabriel would not take that choice from him tonight.

Pushing all thought of desire from his mind, Gabriel tasted the soup, surprised at the richness of the thin broth. In his experience, clear broth, even one as dark as this one, was as bland and tasteless as a meal came, but this was different. Gabriel had no idea why, but his tongue proclaimed the truth of the situation with great delight. “This is wonderful,” he said, determined to converse with Lucio as he would with any equal. “What other delights do you have in store for me?”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Gabriel cursed silently. He had just handed Lucio the perfect opening to bring up the more carnal aspect of the evening. Lucio let the opportunity pass, though, smiling simply before replying, “The chef here is excellent as you’ve already seen. He has a salad, a fish course, a lamb dish, and then dessert. I prefer lamb to beef or pork. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Gabriel said, though in truth, he had only tasted lamb a few times in his life, the meat being out of his reach given his current financial situation. “It will be a lovely treat.”

Lucio shifted slightly on the chair, drawing Gabriel’s eyes back to his body. “I hope the rest of the evening will be a treat as well.”

Gabriel looked away, uncomfortable with the suddenly suggestive mood of the companion’s voice and stance. “I’m sure it will be,” he said, his voice tight. “I rarely have an evening out.”

“What makes tonight special?” Lucio asked, the seduction gone again as quickly as it had appeared.

“It’s my birthday,” Gabriel admitted softly. “My assistants arranged our meeting as a gift.”

Lucio smiled and leaned forward. “I like the idea of being your birthday present.”

Gabriel looked up sharply. “I don’t. I don’t like the idea of anything being forced on you.”

Lucio laughed. “Do I look like I’m being forced? No one is standing here with a gun to my head. No one is threatening to hurt my mother or my sister in order to make me be here. I have earned enough status to choose which new guests I accept. If I had not wanted to be here, someone else would have come in my place. Your friends did not ask for me by name.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. Lucio’s words made sense, but he was a companion. He had already admitted to transforming himself in order to please his client. This could be one more example of that. “Why?”

“Why what?” Lucio asked, finishing his soup and pushing it aside. He rose from the chair and approached Gabriel.

“Why would you accept an inventor as a guest when you are obviously used to much better?” Gabriel rasped, resisting the urge to reach for Lucio.

“Because I was intrigued,” Lucio replied, his hands resting on the back of Gabriel’s chair so they brushed the inventor’s shoulder blades lightly as he bent forward, his breath stirring the fine hairs on Gabriel’s neck as he spoke. “I’ve never met an inventor before because rarely can they afford me. Your friends were very specific in what they wanted for you, though, and I decided I wanted to be the one to deliver it. I haven’t been disappointed at all. I hope you haven’t either.”

Gabriel swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth. He told himself this was one more line, but his body didn’t care. He caught all the signals Lucio was sending out, and he yearned for that contact. Only the knowledge that it was bought and paid for held him back. He would never be able to face his friends at the Caste Equality movement if he gave in. “I haven’t,” he croaked. “I should finish my soup. I’m sure the server will be back soon to clear the table and bring the next course.”

Fortunately Lucio backed off, resuming his seat and easing the intensity of his approach. Almost as if on cue, the door opened, and the server came back in, setting down the salad Lucio had promised and clearing the used dishes. Gabriel regretted not finishing his soup, but the salad looked equally enticing. He nudged the greens with his fork, trying to decide what else was in the salad.

“It’s cranberries, walnuts, bleu cheese, and a light dressing,” Lucio said before taking a bite.

Gabriel nodded and ate, determined to finish this course rather than be distracted by Lucio’s charms. Lucio seemed to sense his new mood, letting him eat without conversation. Only when Gabriel had finished did Lucio resume their earlier discussion as if the moments in between had never occurred. “You didn’t tell me what you were working on, Mister Blackstone. I truly am interested.”

Gabriel hesitated, deciding after a moment that it couldn’t hurt to tell Lucio some of the public projects he was working on. If he kept the flying chair to himself, it was because he hadn’t told anyone about it yet. “I have a patron who has always wanted a pet but is allergic to their fur,” he said. “He has commissioned a mechanical dog that he can activate when he wants companionship and turn off when he’s out of town or when having a live animal would be inconvenient.”

Lucio bit back a laugh. “How very… practical of him.”

“Self-indulgent is more like it,” Gabriel muttered, “but he’s paying me, and I can’t afford to turn down the commission.”

“Is it going well?” Lucio asked.

“Well enough, I suppose,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “The challenge is making all the parts move together in something that approaches natural movement. I’ve built a prototype, but its movements are still awkward. Too awkward for my client.”

“It sounds like challenging work even if the result will be less than groundbreaking,” Lucio said.

“It pays the bills,” Gabriel replied. “At this point I’m grateful for that. I have another project I’m working on, but I don’t have a sponsor for it, and that means it always gets pushed aside.”

Lucio nodded. “Money does seem to rule the world. Even among the aristocrats who pretend to be above all that, money determines who enters where, as much as the lack of mark on their hands.”

“At least that’s honest,” Gabriel said. “No matter how much money I make, there will be doors closed to me because I have a tattoo. The same is surely true for you.”

“It depends,” Lucio said. “If I am on the arm of a wealthy aristocrat, his status is enough to gain me entrance. On my own, I imagine even more doors would be closed to me than to you.”

“You were able to gain us entrance here,” Gabriel pointed out. “I could not have done that alone.”

“Point taken,” Lucio replied, “but I’m known here because of the number of guests I have entertained. I neglected to mention when I made our reservation that you were merchant caste. They assumed you were an aristocrat, and I didn’t correct them.”

Gabriel laughed. Perhaps there was a bit of revolutionary inside Lucio after all. “I think I like you.”

Six Sentences: A New Release

2011-02-26T23:16:00.002-05:00

This week, I'm interrupting my WIP to share a bit from my newest release at Pink Petal Books.

Tim is talking to the ghost of the young man he might have ended up with in life if things had worked out differently...

His voice was barely a whisper now and Gordon's nearness sent a shiver through him. "I bet you watch me sleep."

There was a snicker, and Gordon jerked Tim's hand free of the fabric, crushed it in a tight fist.

Tim grimaced, but didn't utter any sound.

"I watched you do a lot of things, Tim‐tim."

"Why did you just watch?"

Check out the other authors's Six Sentences here

I almost forgot!!!!

There are give aways for Six Sentence Sunday's one year anniversary. Comment and win. (Click on the cupcake for a list of what's on offer)

SL Danielson talks about new and upcoming releases

2011-02-25T11:51:00.000-05:00

Big congrats on the upcoming release. Both stories sound like so much fun!
I won't natter at you all, I'll let my guest speak about the upcoming titles.

First I wish to thank Jaime for having me on her site today, thank you!

I have two things to mention: the first is my new book, "Life After Math" which is due out March 26th from Silver Publishing. Currently, it is in pre-order status so you can get your order in now.

This book is a sequel to my paperback book "Love by the Numbers" which I hope to convert to an ebook by summertime (keep your fingers crossed)! It is about a couple named Scott and Jared who met in high school, and Jared needed math help, and Scott is the brainy genius recruited to assist him.

Life After Math follows this happily committed and promised duo to college, where they face not only time crunches, but issues with their fellow students, tutors, and within their relationship. Can they survive all four years of bliss?

fyi, Love by the Numbers is available only through Publishamerica's site.www.publishamerica.com
Life After Math is at Silver's site: http://silverpublishing.info

Second on my list is the hopeful announcement soon of the sequel to 2010's smash, Ranch Hands...I've submitted the sequel and I hope for a yes very soon!

For those familiar with the tale, remember Jerry? Well, he stood out to me and therefore deserved his own chance at love, just at he told Sid and Roger. In this book he more than gets a chance, he gets two! His old flame from high school comes back to haunt him, hoping to romance him once again. But there's another fly in the ointment, a handsome clerk named Daniel has made Jerry's pulse race! Who will win in this dramatic twist-n-turn story? It's not whom you may think...

Details to come as I get it accepted and into the process.

Shiela Stewart on On-line Dating

2011-02-22T10:54:00.000-05:00

Today, Shiela Stewart drops by to speculate on a different sort of on line dating service, and to give away a copy of her new book: Horsing Around. Come on in and check it out!

Welcome, Shiela!

How many times have you seen ads for Dating services? Those promises that they will help you find just the right person who is compatible with you, someone who will be with you for the rest of your life. And those couples they parade on TV stating how they found their perfect match through the company. They seem so happy, don’t they? But have you ever thought, “What if they’re not sexually compatible?” What if he likes S&M and she doesn’t. What if she prefers to role play “Doctor and Nurse” “Teacher and Student” and he finds it creepy? Sure, they have everything else in common, but if they don’t work in the bedroom, how long will their relationship last.

That’s what sparked a story idea for me. It started with Mistress Bella and her on-line Sex Dating service called Carnal Desires. I wrote out a questionnaire and everything, started a website called Carnal Desires and from there the ball kept rolling. She would need some place for her matches to meet, get to know each other, have sex, on neutral ground. That way if it didn’t work out, neither knew where the other lived and they could part ways unscathed. Thus the Desire Inn was created.

Now I needed my first couple. Sara Miller and Andy McDonald popped into my head. Sara is tired of the men in her life not giving her what she wants in bed. Andy is sick of the women he’s dated only wanting him for his money. They join Carnal Desires and Mistress Bella matched them up, knowing they would be perfect for each other. And she was so right.

Their first meeting proves explosive and it doesn’t stop there. Though these two barely know each other, they know they click in the bedroom.

No, this isn’t a sex for hire service. It’s quite different. Aside from matching couples with their perfect sexual mate, Mistress Bella makes sure they have other things in common. She wants more for her clients than just a good lay. She hopes for love.

So my question to you, the readers is: Would you consider joining such a service. If yes, go to my Carnal Desires website and copy one of the questions on the questionnaire and post it here in the comments and one lucky commenter will win a free ecopy of Horsing Around. http://carnaldesiresdating.blogspot.com/

Horsing Around:

Place of Purchase: www.breathlesspress.com
Shiela’s Website: www.shielasbooks.ca

Carnal Desire’s: We've got a match for all your sexual pleasures.

Sara Miller needs a real man. One who can give her what she desires in and out of the bed. So far, none have met her expectations. She’s hoping all that will change after submitting her application to Carnal Desire’s Web dating service.

The owner of several prize-winning horses, more money than he knows what to do with, Andy McDonald has it all. Except for the love a good woman. He’s sick of flighty bimbos wanting only his money and not satisfying his sexual desires. After a friend pressures him into looking on line for a woman, Andy gives in and submits his application.

Sex takes on a new twist when Sara and Andy get together and nothing is taboo.

Excerpt:

Sara’s heart was beating so hard, she was sure Mistress Bella could hear it. She could very well turn tail and run. Why did she need a man in her life right now, let alone someone she might consider for the long haul?

Then the door opened. Before her stood the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

He wore nothing more than a towel around his hips, dipping low enough to reveal a thin line of hair from his navel down. His chest was glistening with moisture from the shower he’d obviously just stepped out of and was firm and muscular. His sandy blond hair was damp and messed up. He had a bit of stubble on his face, which made the ruggedness even more prominent. And when he smiled, those big blue eyes twinkled. He was definitely yummy. His picture didn’t do him justice by any means. Sara nearly swallowed her tongue.

Then he spoke.

"Well howdy, ladies."

Her heart calmed. His slight Southern drawl, with its deep resonance, was soothing and somewhat relaxing. And very arousing. She loved a man with an accent, and even though Andy’s was faint, it was still enough to turn her on. Between her legs, her flesh began to swell and moisten.

"Good afternoon, Andy. Looks like we caught you in the middle of your shower."

He stroked the damp sandy-blond hair from his face and Sara nearly swooned. "I just stepped out. I’m running a bit behind, I’m afraid." He turned his attention to Sara and her pulse pounded in her ears. "Pleasure to meet you in person, Sara."

She took the hand he held out to her; he completely surprised her when he turned her hand over and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "Pleasure’s mine." Like tiny electrical charges zapping every sensitive nerve in her body, he had her quivering with that one simple gesture.

"Well, come on in and make yourself comfortable while I go change."

He stepped aside to let them in and as Sara walked past him, the scent of the woods after a light rain shower wafted off of him, like fresh, aromatic greenery touched by a kiss of sunlight. She was going to have no problem at all being with this man.

She and Bella headed to the sitting area of the suite while Andy headed to the bedroom. It was spacious, and came complete with a mini kitchen, sitting area, TV and plush sofa and chair. Almost identical to her own suite.

"Pretty easy on the eyes, isn’t he?"

Sara smiled at Bella’s comment, taking a seat on the sofa. "I’m not having any trouble looking at him."

"And what better first meeting than to see him practically naked." Bella winked and beamed a huge grin. "Well, I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted now. If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thank you so much, Mistress Bella."

"I love making people happy. I’m heading out, Andy," she shouted at the bedroom door.

"Catch you later, sugar." He stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a dark blue t-shirt just as Bella left the suite. "Looks like it’s just you and me now, doll."

God, he was going to make her come, just by speaking. "Looks like.” She got to her feet. “So…how should we start this?"

"Let’s start with this as an opener."

He swung his arm around her waist and she gasped when he yanked her against his chest.

Drea Becraft Visits to share her upcoming release

2011-02-21T09:00:00.002-05:00

My guest today is Drea Becraft. She's one of the most gregarious loopers I've met and I've quite enjoyed her yahoo loop, Wickedly Sexy Romance. Lots of fun authors and readers there. Today, she's brought along the info for her upcoming release, and I must say, I like the concept of this story. Looks like great reading.

Enjoy!

Buy it here

~~*Blurb*~~

Vengeance is only a mouse click away, but what happens when you fall for the one you're suppose to hate? Diane Miles lets very few people into her life, and the ones she calls family she never lets go of. But what is she to do when her best friend is dying and her whole world as she knows it is about to be torn apart.

Chase Griffin is in shock when a woman accuses him of treating one of his employees wrongfully. When she takes over his system, making it impossible to work, he doesn't know whether to strangle her or spank her till she begs for mercy. When he discovers who his local vigilante is, strangling is the last thing on his mind as she becomes his rock during the last days of his sisters life.

~~*Excerpt*~~

To: griffinchase67@arcmanagement.com

Date: Saturday, July 3, 2010, 8:19 AM

Subject: Oops, did I do that????

It’s been a month, Ace, and you have yet to find and fire the one who wronged my friend. I have given you more than ample time and now it’s time for you to pay.

You are up against one hell of a computer chick. And Ace, I am holding your system ransom until meeting the demands.

I hope you don’t have important meetings you need to be in this week, because I just cancelled them.

Oh isn’t it wonderful how the world translates in 101011, LOL.

NO YOU CAN’T,

Your Local Vigilante

Oh, how good it feels finally sending that message. After a long night of hacking into the arrogant assholes computer system, she finally had the worm in place, and his system stalled. Sometimes, it pays to be one hell of a computer wiz and even one better, having software irreversible by anyone but herself.

Sure, it would be a huge inconvenience for both Mr. Griffin and maybe his secretary, but that’s as far as her vigilance went. Diane only wanted to make one man pay, so no need to hack the entire ARC main frame. Other employees should not pay for the failure of their boss, nor should the customers who pay for services needed.

Totally engrossed in what she was doing, Diane didn’t notice Tina standing in the doorway. Dressed in a black skirt suit with a yellow blouse, she had her hair pulled in a bun. If you didn’t know any better, you would think she was your ordinary woman, but Diane did know better.

“You’ve been at it all night again, haven’t you?” Tina said, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring.

“Always treating me like a kid, yeah Mommy, I spent all night on the computer. But I swear, once I hit the pillows, I’ll sleep all afternoon.” With a half smile, Diane pushed away from the desk and headed toward her friend.

“You better, I swear I have no idea how you go on as little sleep as you do. I would have migraines out the ass if I tried to pull that stunt.”

“Luck of the genes, I guess.” Diane shrugged then hugged her friend lightly. Releasing her, she stepped back a couple of steps to continue their conversation. “When are you going to give your resignation?”

“I will in a couple of weeks. We have some pretty big hitters coming in and I want to get them settled before I up and leave. It’s the least I can do before I leave them bereft an acquisitions agent.”

“And a damn good one at that.”

“Amen, sister.”

“You are too kind to that man after the way he treated you.”

“Just because someone else got the job as agent doesn’t mean he’s not a good boss, Diane. I sure don’t hold a grudge over what happened. And I have no clue why you would either.”

“I just hate to see anyone hurt the ones I love.”

“Oh, honey, I love you too but just let it go. It’s so not worth the trouble or worry.”

“I can’t help but worry about you, T. You’re my family.”

“You’re my best friend, and I would be so lost without you.”

“I know. I am pretty fabulous.” Blowing on her nails, then on her shirt, she winked at her friend.

* * * *

Chase was pissed. Not only could he not get into any of his files, but his email didn’t work unless sending to only one recipient. The tech guys from his IT department could do nothing to restore it but assured him that only his files were hostage, both were a relief and an annoyance. Obviously, he was the only target of this vigilante, and she was doing a really good job.

Even more pissed now than when first discovering the problem hours ago, Chase shot off an email to his nemesis. Satisfied in the knowledge that while he enjoyed a great lunch with his sister and best friend she would be squirming.

From: Chase

To: vengeance101@network.com

Date: Monday, July 6, 2010, 12:10 PM

Subject: RESTORE MY SYSTEM NOW!!!!!!!

Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you are, or how the fuck you got into my system, but I want it RESTORED NOW. You can’t just mess with someone’s livelihood. You mess with me and you mess with the company. Not only are you screwing over your friend but also the people that work for my company.

I have no idea what started this, but if you don’t restore it, I will find you and have my lawyers so far up your ass you won’t know where you end and they begin.

YES, I FUCKING CAN,

Chase Griffin

President & CEO

ARC Management Company

Buy the Book

~~*Where to find Drea*~~

Website: http://dreabecraft.webs.com

Blog: http://dreabecraft.wordpress.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/andreabecraft

Twitter: http://twitter.com/dreabecraft

Six Sentences: A new Story

2011-02-19T23:23:00.001-05:00

Today, I'm shifting gears. My current WIP is book three of my Ageless series: Severed.

In this book, Mikko and Ken find that fighting the worlds evils together might, in fact, tear them apart fro good.

Today, I've highlighted a conversation between Mikko and another Ageless, Dean, whom he's trying to decide if he can trust or not. The subject of the discussion? Morgan, a Powerful Ageless man bent on bringing the rest of the Ageless, shifters, elementals and all, under his control.

"Morgan truly believes he is fighting for the earth. He will do anything to reverse what humans have done, and he doesn't flinch at the lives he destroys in his quest."

"And yet you," Mikko shook himself free of Ken's grasp and stalked forward. "You sit here, at the ass end of the world and do nothing to stop him."

"He's not evil, Mikko. He's my brother."

For the rest of the Six Sentence Sunday entries, click here. Enjoy!

Tess MacKall Visits

2011-02-11T11:48:00.000-05:00

Hi, folks;

My friend Tess has dropped by today to share her latest release at Ellora's Cave: Twelve Days of Love. Enjoy an excerpt and visit the Cave for your copy. She's one talented lady. You don't want to miss this.

Thanks for stopping by, Tess.

Title: Twelve Days of Love
Author: Tess MacKall
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing
ISBN: 9781419931017
MSRP/List Price: $10.40
Our Cover Price: $5.20
Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9071-twelve-days-of-love.aspx
BLURB:
Eden Riley left her high school geek days far behind. Or so she thought. But when she returns to her hometown and comes face to face with the local heartthrob, sparks ignite like a chemistry set on crack. Super-smooth Nick Lancaster sets her nerves jangling and thrusts her libido into overdrive. But can the former geeky girl overcome her insecurities and jump his sexy bones?

Nothing suits former jock and debate team star Nick more than sparring with the one-time nerd. He’s just itching to get up close and personal with her high-velocity curves and tangle with her on the nearest bed.

With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, all bets are off when Cupid draws back his bow and Nick has only twelve days to convince Eden she belongs with him, in his heart and in his bed.

EXCERPT:

Jingling bells mounted above the flower shop door alerted Eden that a customer had entered the store. She pushed the stem of a pink sweetheart rose into the small wedding bouquet she had just started and wiped her hands on her green wraparound smock. As she turned, she caught a man’s reflection in the glass doors of the refrigerated case.
She couldn’t help but pause and stare. His tall, lean silhouette appeared to be standing there among all those leggy gladiolas and giant spider mums perched in their vases. He reached up to the service counter with one hand and touched the small African violet sitting near the edge. For a moment it looked as though he’d brushed his hand over the big snowy-white spider mum in the cooler.
Eden moaned slightly, his touch so obviously tender. Warm tendrils of longing tiptoed over her skin. She shuddered with the sensation, mentally chiding herself for giving him even a second thought, much less allowing him to affect her physically.
But Nick Lancaster had always worked his way under her skin, even in high school.
He was wet panties and get-naked-quick in one fine-looking package. Bottled sin. A walking aphrodisiac. And all that with just a “hello”. Why did she torture herself with this insane crush? She wasn’t exactly his type, was she? Eden patted her tummy to remind herself of the paunch that sometimes forced her to unbutton her jeans after she’d eaten. Yeah, it hadn’t disappeared, still there.
Nick tilted his head to the side as if to peek into the back of the shop where she stood watching, his mirrored reflection in the glass doors so damn lifelike she took a step back. An exaggerated sigh blew through the workroom’s open doorway, a sure-fire sign his patience had grown thin. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and glanced up at the ceiling.
Eden squared her shoulders, inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and stepped into the showroom. Both Nick’s eyebrows quirked when she appeared and he grinned. She nodded, smiled and planted herself on the opposite side of the counter. He looked too damn delicious today in his dark green Polo shirt and navy blazer. Why did he have to be so handsome?
“Hi, Nick. I might have known I’d be seeing you. The countdown has begun, hasn’t it?”
A distinct V formed between his brows, his grin fading into a frown. “Countdown?”
“Yeah, countdown.” Eden gestured toward the large, heart-shaped day calendar on the wall behind her.
Emblazoned in sparkling gold against the bright red background over the heart’s two humps were the words “Valentine’s Day Countdown”. The number twelve was displayed in bright red and centered inside a pale blue and white wisp of a cloud with Cupid sitting on top, his bow drawn.
Nick focused over her head. “Oh!” Then he frowned even harder. “Well, what was that crack about ’might have known I’d be seeing you’ all about?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
He pursed his luscious lips and squinted his gorgeous green eyes. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“Where the hell did you get that idea?”
It never failed. Every time he came into the shop, they ended up arguing. She always managed to make some snarky comment, and of course, he picked up on it. They’d been at odds since their freshman year of high school. Both had joined the debate team and had never seen eye-to-eye on a single subject.
Slowly but surely they’d gravitated to different ends of the spectrum in popularity too, which hadn’t made things any easier. He, with his Adonis good looks and nothing-but-net shooting ability, naturally floated to the top; she, with her wide hips, pimply face, geeky glasses and penchant for all things artistic, sank to the bottom.
Now here they were, all these years later, no further from that high-school type of relationship than when they’d started. Except Nick had taken over his father’s string of Chevy dealerships and she had moved back home last year, forsaking her managerial position at an up-and-coming art gallery in New York to take over her ailing mother’s flower shop.
Times and situations changed but evidently people didn’t.
“If you don’t want me as a customer, Eden, why don’t you just say so?” He leaned forward, folding his arms over one another on the counter’s faux granite surface, watching her intently.
Lemon drops. He always smelled of lemon drops—and some expensive cologne she couldn’t remember the name of. God, she wanted to reach over and ruffle that thick, wavy black hair of his. Oh shit. Wet panties alert! He managed to do it to her every time without even trying.
And oh how she wished he would. Fat chance.
“I do want you as a customer,” she said succinctly, trying to put an end to the verbal scuffle.
“So? What was that crack all about?”
“Nothing. Just pointing out the countdown is all. I’m a florist. Valentine’s Day is important to me.” Actually, her remark had been a direct jibe regarding his frequent flower-buying miles. He constantly had arrangements delivered locally and wired over a three-state area with each card signed, “Yours, Nick”.
“Your mother is a florist. You’re a stand-in.” He grinned, wet his index finger with his tongue and painted the air with an imaginary mark. “Score one for me.”
Her mouth dropped open. She had a damned art degree in her back pocket. He, on the other hand, had dropped out of college after year two thanks to a bum knee and the fact he’d no longer be able to pump up his already over-inflated ego with the roar of the fans. How dare he call her a stand-in!
“I’ll have you know that I started working in this shop when I was twelve years old. Every day after school, weekends, all summer long too. I’m the one who made those sweet little corsages for all your high-school dance dates. So don’t say I’m not up to the job.”
He jabbed the rigid fingers of his left hand into his right palm—time out. “Chill, girl. Damn. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel one of these days.” He shook his head. “I was joking, messing with you. But I really meant that as soon as your mother was feeling better, you’re gonna be out of here and back to that fancy New York art career of yours.”
Did she detect a note of jealousy? Impossible. Nick Lancaster had it all. Well, except for his divorce, that is. Her mother had told her all about it right after Eden had taken over the shop. Nick had shown up on Eden’s third day to place an order and their customary enmity from high school had picked up right where it had left off.
Eden had related the entire scene to her mother at home that night and was shocked to learn that Nick and his wife, Jenna, had called it quits. He’d caught her dead-to-rights with her masseuse.
The vision of Jenna’s toothy white smile, platinum pony-tail and deep cleavage bouncing up and down right along with the whimsical sashay of blue-and-white pompoms rollicked in Eden’s mind. The cheerleader prom queen sure had screwed up her life. How the hell could she ever want anyone but Nick?
Eden tucked her fingernails into her palms and squeezed, jolting herself back to the present. Who was she to talk? Her judgment where love was concerned wasn’t so great either.
She picked up the order book and scratched out Nick’s name on the appropriate line. “I won’t be going back to New York.”
“What do you mean?” He leaned in closer.
The lemony scent became downright heady. Have mercy. Her nipples poked at her thin cotton sports bra. Tingles of lust wound their way straight to her pussy. Maybe she should start keeping a supply of clean panties on hand.
He rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes.”
“You looked like you spaced out for a few seconds.”
“Just thinking. Now what would you like to order today?”
He shook his head. “Not so fast. Why aren’t you going back to New York?”
“Mom’s not going to be able to return to work. She’s now on dialysis.”
He glanced down at the floor then back up at her. His usually devilish eyes had softened. “I’m sorry to hear that, Eden. Your mom is a nice lady. I hope her condition improves.”
Eden averted her gaze. He was being nice. And Nick Lancaster’s “nice” wasn’t something she could take. As long as he played the fool with her, she could handle him, but this side? No.
She pressed the pen against the paper. “Thank you. So how many dozen roses? One for each of the Twelve Days of Love? A dozen different women or just one special lady this time?”
He choked with laughter, sputtering, “The Twelve Days of Love?”
She rolled her eyes. “Florist marketing. If you can have the Twelve Days of Christmas, why not the Twelve—”
“Days of Love,” he finished in a sarcastic tone.
Eden perched her hand on her hip and stared at him.
He licked his lips. Lusty butterflies fluttered in her lower abdomen, sending a delicious pleasure-pain to body parts she didn’t even know she had. Her stomach somersaulted. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. Damn. She had to stop doing this. They didn’t even like each other. She wasn’t his type—no pompoms. He’d laugh his ass off if he knew how I felt. As long as she didn’t see him, she was fine. But if she had to talk to him, be near him…
He came around to her side of the counter. “How long have we been rubbing each other the wrong way?”
Eden skirted past him and walked over to the display window. She twisted a pot of heavily leaved philodendron so its back side faced the sun. “Forever. I’ve got a wedding tomorrow, Nick. I hate to rush you, but…”
When she turned from the window, he was standing in front of her almost nose to nose. She stumbled backward and he caught her, resting his hand at her waist. He stared into her eyes. How had she failed to notice those little gold flecks swimming in the dark green depths of his? His breath soughed warm over her face—more lemon drops and something else—his unique male scent.
And his hand—was it on fire? He took it away and the temperature of her skin where he’d been touching her plummeted.
“What will you be doing that night?” he asked.
“Wh-what night?” Surprised she’d found her voice, she hurried back to the counter and picked up the order book again.
“Valentine’s.”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “I’ll be lucky to get out of here by nine. And love will be the last thing on my mind, I can assure you.”
“No date, huh?”
“I don’t have time for dating. Can we do the order?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets before he moved back over to the counter. “So you didn’t leave any broken hearts in New York?”
Where the hell is he going with this? And why?
“I’m not exactly every man’s idea of the perfect date. Now if you don’t mind—”
“What’s a man’s idea of a perfect date?”

Exasperated, she blew out a burst of air. “I don’t know and don’t care. I have more important things to do these days than worry about the likes and dislikes of men.”
“What’s more important than love? You’re the florist.” He pointed to the Twelve Days of Love calendar.
“Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re willing to sell the product of love but you don’t believe in it.”
“And you’re driving a Mercedes but you sell Chevys.”
Nick propped his hip against the counter, grinning. “Nobody’s ever challenged me the way you do, you know that?”
“Nobody’s ever pissed me off the way you do. You know that?”
His expression sobered. He looked wounded. “I don’t mean to.”
Deep down she knew that. Guilt crested inside her. “I guess we’re just oil and water, Nick. No harm done.”
An awkward silence rose between them. They just stood there staring at each other until Eden couldn’t take it another second.
“You still want to place the order?”
“Yeah,” he said, soft and low, in an almost-defeated manner.
A few minutes later, Nick had placed an order for roses to be delivered on Valentine’s Day to seventeen different women. With every name and address he read to her from his BlackBerry, Eden jabbed the paper a little harder with the pen. Her stomach churned at the thought of all those women. In her mind, she pictured them with pom poms, blonde hair and long, tanned legs.
And they giggled.
Yep, she was definitely wasting panty moisture on thoughts of Nick. Her five-foot-four, big-hipped frame capped off by average-sized breasts would never stand a chance against all those big-busted beauties. Even her soot-black hair was a sharp contrast to what Nick wanted.
“All right. I think I’ve got everything. I have your credit card on file. How about the card? The usual ‘Yours, Nick’?”
“Yeah.”
He sounded dejected. She would too if she’d just spent seventy bucks a pop on seventeen different women. No. That wasn’t it. Nick had money. Apparently their antagonistic relationship had gone a bit too far today.
Maybe this was his last order. How would she feel if that was the case?
“Thanks, Eden.” Nick headed for the door, stopped short just as he reached it, waited the space of a few seconds, then opened it. The bells jingled. He continued to stand there with his back to her. A car alarm blared out in the street. He closed the door and marched back to the counter.
Eden just knew he was going to cancel the order and that would be the end of Nick and her silly schoolgirl crush. Head held high, she braced herself for whatever he was about to say.
“I think it’s a case of practicing what you preach,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re right. I should drive a Chevy and you should believe in love.” His shoulders relaxed and he let out a long breath as if he’d been holding in what he’d said. And now that he’d spit it out, he seemed relieved.
“We’re back to that?”
“Yes, and I think we should do something about this,” he twirled his finger in front of him, “this oil-and-vinegar thing we have going on.”
“Water. Oil and water. You mean try to get along?”
“Whatever. And exactly. After all, it’s that time of year. The Twelve Days of Love.”
She smiled. “Okay, Nick. I’ll try if you will.”
Maybe they could get along. Of course, it wouldn’t help the physical side of things as far as she was concerned. But he didn’t come into the shop more than a couple of times a month. It might be nice not to feel so angry and wet when he left the next time.
“Good. I’ll pick you up at your mother’s house at seven.” He strode toward the door.
It was as if the floor fell out from under her. She grabbed the countertop. Blood rushed to her head and her heart drummed so loudly she thought surely the vibrations would bring the roof down on top of her.
“What!”
Nick spun on his heel. “Seven o’clock. Jeans will be fine. Twelve days, Eden. Twelve days of practicing what you preach. I’ll be driving a Chevy when I pick you up too.” He yanked the door open so the bells jingled, grinned, offered her a little salute and closed the door behind him.
http://tessmackall.com
Risqué Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/risquenewsletter

Six Sentences Sunday: Jimmy in a bind

2011-02-05T23:42:00.001-05:00

This week, I let Jimmy and his partner speak for themselves. :)

"Oaky?"

"Uh-huh." Rather less coherent this time, but still decipher able, he hoped.

"I admit, you do look good tied to my bed. Comfortable?"

"Very."

(Because last week was so heavy...)

Check out the other Six Sentence fun at the Six Sentence Sunday Blog.

Six Sentence Sunday...conflict week

2011-01-29T21:51:00.001-05:00

The plea was plain in Cliff's voice. If Jimmy looked at him, he was afraid he'd fall again. He didn't want to fall, didn't want to land in the cold, hard reality that even Cliff didn't want him, couldn't handle him. Because he couldn't. Jimmy knew that now. What he needed, Cliff didn't have.

"Please, Jimmy, don't let's do this without even looking one another in the eye."

I couldn't even think of a picture to go with this. :(

So, while I figure out how to fix this mess, please head over to the Six Sentence blog and check out the other offerings.

2011-01-29T14:21:00.000-05:00

Sunday, January 30th is Gay Day at Ethan's Yahoo Group. Gay Day is the one day a month when the best authors in GLBT Romance stop by to post excerpts of their new and upcoming releases.

The following authors will be generously offering giveaways you can enter to win:

J.P. BOWIE – NOWHERE TO HIDE

J.J. SOUTH – 33 A GAY LOVE STORY

ZA MAXFIELD – PHARAOH’S CONCUBINE

SIMONE ANDERSON – SADDLE UP & RIDE

ANGEL MARTINEZ – A DIFFERENT BREED

KATE MCMURRAY – THE BOY NEXT DOOR

ANDREW GREY – LOVE MEANS…NO FEAR

ALLY BLUE – THESE HAUNTED HEIGHTS

TRINA LANE – SIMPLY PERFECTION

EM WOODS – CHOCOLATE DREAMS

JAIME SAMMS – FINDERS KEEPERS

CLARE LONDON –THREADBARE

ETHAN DAY – LIFE IN FUSION

KIMBERLY GARDNER – TOO SOON FOR LOVE – Coming Soon

JAMBREA JO JONES – STEAMY REUNION & STEALING MICHAEL

CHARLIE COCHRANE – ALL LESSONS LEARNED Print Book of Winners Choice

The amazing Authors below will be popping in and out to chat & post excerpts from their latest books:

MISSY WELCH – KLT23

STEVIE WOODS – SACRIFICE

K.C. BURN – BLOOD RELATIONS

DEVON RHODES – MAKING HIS LIST

JAMBREA JO JONES – A FISTFULL OF EMMETT

FINNMARLOWE – A THREAD OF DEEPEST BLACK

ADRIANNE BRENNAN – PISCES F/F Coming Soon

AKM MILES – FOR GOM’S SAKE – Coming Soon

TC BLUE – LIFE CHANGES EVERYTHING

LILY SAWYER – CATCH OF THE DAY

KIMBERLY GARDNER - BLUSH

EM WOODS – JACK’S WAY

SERENA YATES – THE CHAUFFEUR & REDISCOVERING ADRIAN

JAIME SAMMS – WISHING ON A BLUE STAR

ETHAN DAY – ANYTHING FOR YOU – Coming Soon

LYNN LORENZ – REMEMBER ME? – Coming Soon

The day will run from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. CST in the Ethan Day Yahoo Group where we’ll be posting excerpts, running contests for free books, and chatting about all the new and upcoming releases from your favorite authors.

I hope everyone will stop by to catch up with your favorite authors and join in all the fun!

Six Sentence Sunday

2010-12-11T22:01:00.004-05:00

So you know that feeling you get when all the pieces fall into place and something you've long suspected, but didn't want to believe is proved true? My character Seb, in my just-released Model Christmas, has that feeling as he talks to a stranger in the street near his home. His boyffiend has just left, his rent is due, and he's broke. This stranger seems to be feeling him out for something or other, and Seb's not sure he wants to know what.

"You rented with Terry Mulligan."

Seb stopped. His heart pounded a fierce, wild rhythm. "How did you know that?"

The man shrugged. "We slept together a lot."

That throw-away statement explained so much that Seb had suspected about Terry's distant behaviour but couldn't have proved and hadn't really wanted to admit was probably true.

We'll get back to Jimmy and Cliff next week, but in the mean time, pop on over and enjoy a few more offerings from the rest of the Six Sentence Sunday blog.

Bryn Colvin and Tom Brown: Playing with Creatures

2010-12-11T13:48:00.004-05:00

I would like to welcome my friend and fellow Loveyoudivine Author, Bryn Colvin, and by extension, her wonderfully talented partner, Tom Brown. Together, they are Itisacircle. What is that? Well, they produce the loveliest of webcomics, set in Hopeless Main to which I am, fittingly, hopelessly addicted. Between Bryn's writing and Tom's gorgeous and mysterious artwork, I am soooo hooked. And from reading this post, it's no surprise. She sites some of my favorite artists as influences (like Brian Froude, who's art I've seen everywhere and not kown his name till now) Makes sense that I'm so drawn to their work, as well. Welcome, Bryn, and thanks so much for visiting. So nice to have you here.

We were sat in a graveyard, in Portland. Talking, and lying in the grass, Tom started collecting up bits of twigs, leaves and pine needles. He’d talked before about making creatures, and how for him that was partly a process of perceiving them in the landscape. That day, he made me a creature for the first time. A little being of foraged material and imagination. There were others, and I began the process of learning how to find them and put them together.

Once I started looking, I began to see them – the juxtapositions of plant life, rocks and human detritus that acquired personalities of their own or, could with a little help become creatures too. There’s a sense of magic and wonder that comes with this, a childlike kind of play and a delightful, improvised creativity. Anyone can do it, with anything that comes to hand.

Creatures turn up a lot in Tom’s art work. Often they appear as part of the backdrop, mysterious and unexplained, but he puts a lot of thought into them. They have lives, habits, feeding methods, and a bizarre natural history of their own. The gnii, for example, we never see properly. They remove the stone carvings from gravestones and carry them about. They collect debris to burn as candles (and steal candles when they can get them). They eat rock, and predate graveyards a great deal. They’re also shy, which is why we don’t see them properly, and they travel in flotillas.

Many of the ‘things’ you’ll see as background details in Hopeless have a similar amount of story and detail attached to them already. Maybe one day I’ll be able to round them up and do some kind of bestiary.

I think in many ways, the world of Hopeless reflects how Tom plays with the ‘real’ world. Walking with him frequently involves being invited to see how things might be entirely other than they first appear. He has a keen eye for detail – unshockingly – and responds in strange and fanciful ways. What would live here? What would leave marks like that? Why is there ice on this bit of road and nowhere else (because of the dead people, apparently.)

Often I look at the art for Hopeless and feel the world probably is like that, and I just don’t see it, yet. In all the odd corners we don’t pay attention to, in the shadows and the peripheries of our vision, lurk the creatures. I love the idea of the world being full of little mysteries. Tom and I share an enthusiasm for the work of Charles De Lint, and his writing is laden with this kind of spirit-creature magic as well. We love the folklore that underpins it, too. There’s a dash of Dr Zeus and Edward Gorey in the mix as well, and we like Brian Froude, The Dark Crystal, and Labyrinth. In all of these things, it’s the little details that bring the whole to life.

Most of the little, monstery things in Hopeless aren’t unpleasant. I don’t think they’re creepy either –although they are frequently strange and gothic. If you focus on the human action centre stage, it’s possible to miss them, but, look carefully and there’s a great deal of extra eyes in the mix, frequently with creatures attached to them. Maybe ‘real’ life is like that too...

Hopeless - www.itisacircle.com

Six More sentences

2010-12-04T23:34:00.001-05:00

From Jimmy's story. We're getting down to the nitty gritty, now. Jimmy's about to make the much needed break from all his vices and accept he's a lot more submissive than he's managed to let himself believe. Without the crutches of indulgent or abusive Doms or the pain killing drugs, he's got only Cliff and his own will to rely on. The jury is still out if he can let go for real, though.

Maybe Gabe called on you, but I don't believe for one second he had any real control over you, Jimmy, and that isn't going to happen here. You get what I deem you need."

"How do you know what I need?"

Cliff leaned in again, kissed Jimmy with authority, using tongue and hands to control him.

Jimmy lost himself in the kiss, sliding under the tender force of Cliff's domination before he even gathered enough thought or will to hold back any resistance. He lost track of the direction the conversation had been headed, lost track of his argument, lost himself in the fire of Cliff's touch.

And a bit of eye candy to finish off the picture. (Except these guys aren't my guys. I just thought the pic was pretty darn yummy...)

There are a whole slew of other authors offering bits of their stories this week, so swing by the Six Sentence Sunday Blog and check them out. You won't be sorry you did.

Romance in the Backseat Visits with a Wonderful Offer

2010-11-23T14:23:00.001-05:00

HI, everyone; I just wanted to pass on a really wonderful opportunity to you all to help out someone you care about this holiday season. Terry Kate dropped by to post about what Romance in the Backseat and Silver Publishing are doing to make someone's Thanksgiving a little more bountiful this year.

Hello friends and neighbors,

Many of you may not be aware that Romance in the Backseat is offering a very special Month of Thanks this November. The most exciting part is coming from Silver Publishing, a generous giveaway of $100 Grocery Gift Card.

November is a time to give thanks to those in our life who day in and day out make our lives better. To give thanks to friends and family that year after year support us. This year there are a lot of families and friends in need of some extra support and help. That is why Silver Publishing has so generously offered to help pay for a families Thanksgiving dinner.

Please share the news about this giveaway and join us to nominate someone in your life who could use the extra help. All nominations are private, our goal is to add some holiday cheer and some extra goodies to the table this Thanksgiving.

I want to thank Silver Publishing for this amazing gift. Even if you and your loved ones are lucky enough to have a table of food waiting Thanksgiving day drop in and show your appreciation not only to Silver Publishing, but to the other authors who have come on the site this month and shared their tales of thanks. To give us a little more cheer those authors have also offered a book giveaway to share with those you love.

Terry Kate
Romance in the Backseat

Visit Silver Publishing's Site to find out about their books - http://silverpublishing.info/

Enter Here - http://ritbs.blogspot.com/2010/11/month-of-thanks-food-giveaways-silver.html

Kylie Brant's Giveaway

Deadly Intent

http://ritbs.blogspot.com/2010/11/gratitude-attitude-by-kylie-brant.html

Lydia Dare's Giveaway

The Taming of the Wolf

http://ritbs.blogspot.com/2010/11/month-of-thanks-lydia-dare.html

Nicola Cornick's Giveaway

Whispers of Scandal

http://ritbs.blogspot.com/2010/11/nicola-cornicks-month-of-thanks-blog.html

Kersten Hamilton's Giveaway

Tyger Tyger

http://ritbs.blogspot.com/2010/11/month-of-thanks-with-kersten-hamilton.html

Six Sentences - Jimmy behaving Badly

2010-11-21T02:09:00.001-05:00

Last week, I introduced you to Jimmy and his two stand-in lovers. So. What does Jimmy do when they aren't available?

Montgomery's teeth clamped down on his earlobe and Jimmy's breath wooshed out in a guttural grunt. "You never could resist me, Jimbo." His hand impacted Jimmy's ass hard and he jumped. "I'll get us a room. Wait here." He bit again, harder and didn't bother to sooth away the sting.

He does what anyone desperate for a fix does and picks up anyone willing to give him a go.

I hope next week you'll come back and visit. maybe he'll have come to his senses. In th emean time, visit the other blogs at Six Sentence Sunday and see what other authors are working on.

(I didn't make the list this week because I was slow...sorry!)

Six Sentences from My Latest WIP

2010-11-13T22:50:00.001-05:00

It's that time of week again. It's Six Sentence Sunday, and I've decided to give you all a taste of Jimmy, my latest broken hero. He's not like the submissive men I normally write about. He's a lot more alpha. A lot more complicated. And a lot more broken. In this scene, he's decided to let his on-again-off-again lovers, Dean and Adam, have their way. This time.

Dean spread hand over the back of Jimmy's head, stroked long fingers through his hair. "Go ahead."

Jimmy took Adam into his mouth and for a few minutes, the two of them communicated through simple sounds of pleasure. There was something about the smell and feel of taking Adam like this while Dean watched. He could get off on it without anyone saying a thing, without any other touch. He let his eyes drift closed to better enjoy the sounds and the feel of Dean's firm grip in his hair.

Go to the Six Sentence Sunday blog to find a whole slew of links to more authors and more yummy six sentence entries.

Six Sentence Sunday

2010-11-06T20:10:00.001-04:00

“Kiss me.”

“No.” But he didn’t pull away. His lips remained parted and he breathed in soft, excited pants.

“Yes.”

“You can’t make–ungh."

No names to protect the innocent :) (For Kris' gang, I sooo couldn't resist :D )
This little six sentence snippet comes from my current release at Pink Petal Books:

http://pinkpetalbooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=26&products_id=143&zenid=d87e52afd0852b0aa0525c2f482f2fa8

You can find the other Six Sentence links at the official blog Six Sentence Sunday Go forth and find good stuff to read, folks!

Six Sentances from As Advertised

2010-10-23T22:04:00.001-04:00

My current WIP, now off to beta is the source of this week's six sentances.

There's nothing like some good phone sex for first time sex between a man who's nervous about getting involved physically, and one who's not sure he's ready for the emotional bond.

For a few, endless seconds, he could concentrate only on the next breath, the next, sweet, diminishing flow of pleasure, and didn't even realize he'd dropped the phone until it clunked against his temple on his pillow. He put it back to his ear, to be greeted by quick panting, and low, fluid moans, the perfect counterpart to his own still unsteady breath.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, a satisfied smile curling his lips.

"Shit. I'm—Ungh. Close—" A sound, like a deep-throated, worldless plea came over the line. "Ty!"

Six Sentance Sunday

2010-10-09T17:51:00.000-04:00

For my first Six Sentence Sunday, I've chosen a little something from my latest release "Gorounded" Available from Pink Petal books.

Arms and legs wrapped tight around Mikko, Ken wiggled until Mikko's cock slipped against his entrance. "Won't work like this," he complained, swiping messy kisses over Mikko's cheek. "Put me down and turn me around."

"I want to see you."

Ken flushed deeply. "Why?"

Find more six sentence teasers at the six sentences home site. There are a lot of great authors sharing. Check it out. :)

News and free Stuff

2010-10-08T01:07:00.000-04:00

Today, I had a wonderful, do what I want day. I visited on line, went to the movies with my family, and did a bit of writing. Well, a bit of re-writing. It was a fun and relaxing day.

I want to share a few links, too. The first is my latest release.

Grounded: BookTwo in the Ageless Series.

In a difficult role reversal, Mikko finds himself relying on his submissive lover to keep their home and their happiness safe from Mikko's unfinished business.

http://pinkpetalbooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=32&products_id=137

Ken and Mikko have overcome the hurdle of finding one another and coming to terms with the damage they both did to their relationship. Happy to submit to Mikko's rule, Ken has come a long way toward finding his own strength again, and has decided he must officially end the relationship he ran out on when he went looking for Mikko. Awaiting Ken's return is the hardest thing Mikko has ever had to do.

He is forced to come to terms with his own shortcomings, and confront his own past, the secrets he's kept, and the effect they may have on his lover.

When that past knocks on their door, Mikko has to face the fact he might not be able to protect Ken any longer. Whether or not he finds the strength in himself to accept help may mean the difference between keeping their home and their life safe, or losing everything to the man he thought he had escaped.

Also, I have a link to something free and fluffy for those more inclined that way :)

Enjoy Santa's New Line, the new and improved story of a man whose wish finally came true.

Blurb: Cody once asked Santa to give him just one person who understood what he was going through. Problem was, he didn't actually believe in the old gift giving elf any more. Imagine his surprise when, years later, that request is filled, completely out of the blue.

Read it here: http://dontkickmycane.livejournal.com/146309.html

I admit it...

2010-10-05T15:04:00.000-04:00

...I am a cover whore. One of teh first m/m books I ever read, (one of my favorites, still) and certainly the first one I ever bought was Ally Blue's Fireflies. Why? I wanted the cover. I love the cover. Love. Love, love love. I bought this book for the cover.
http://manloveebooks.com/blog/ebooks/fireflies-by-ally-blue/

Today, I was flipping through the goodreads email telling me what my friends are reading when i came across this:

How Pretty is that? That cover is nice enough to make me click on the book, one book of the 91 in that particular list of books, and go see if it was interesing. It is. I put it on my wish list for now, pending another royalty check...

http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Lockdown/exact_match=exact

Never let anyone tell you cover art doesn't matter. It does. Everyone has their own taste in what they like, of course, and for me, clearly, it's pretty yaoi boy art, but everyone does have a taste, and if you appeal to it, you'll sell them books. Promise.

And one more for the road: Knowing Curves by Nix Winter

New Review for Poor Boy

2010-09-29T17:18:00.000-04:00

After all this time, a new review for Poor Boy has come through the web to me.
http://michelenjeff-reviews.blogspot.com/2010/09/poor-boy-by-jaime-samms.html?zx=ee33b85909dc982c

Thank you, Michele, for your thoughts on the book. You said it, when you said this book is a difficult one, and maybe not for everyone. Sometimes, life is difficult. I hope this story shows it can also be redeeming, if you want to try. I appreciate your time in penning your thoughts.

Book Sale!

2010-09-26T00:06:00.000-04:00

I'd like everyone to know that Rainbow e-books will be having a sale on Dreamspinner books next weekend. It's a great chance to pick up all those new releases you've been pining after, so check it out and let your dollars stretch.

Two Days and Counting

2010-08-09T23:08:00.001-04:00

I've never been huge on promotion, but this is a special occasion. I'm celebrating the release of a story I'm quite fond of and never thought I'd find a publisher for, and my first release with a publisher I've been excited to work with since I started imagining I might be good at this who writing gig.

Welcome the upcoming release of Angel Requiem at Dreamspinner Press on August 11, 2010

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=1952

Blurb: In a world without hope that kills what it can't understand, a solitary priest who has lost all he ever loved may be the last man to still believe in Angels. In the end, his belief may be all that can safeguard the fate of two Angel lovers—and restore his own faith in the power of love.

The Squee of Fandom

2010-07-08T14:33:00.000-04:00

Or how not to behave badly and embarrass yourself.

Actually, I don't really have any advice on this issue. It's just something I've noticed. If you're a writer, how do you, or rather, do you draw a line between your professional persona and just squeeing over your favourite authors? My instinct tells me we probably should--draw the line, that is--and yet, I don't know if other authors are much different from me. I like when a reader squees over something I've poured my heart and soul into. Who wouldn't really? It makes me feel good. Why hold that feeling back from our fellow authors?

In my case, I'm very likely to, and have, run into my favourite authors on the various groups I frequent. Some of those authors I was friends with and became a fan, some I was a fan and have become friends with, but the distinction is most definitely there.

My friends who write so well I have to snap up everything they put out and read it immediately are friends first. I can tell them my writing woes, and sometimes, even my personal woes, commiserate or gush all over myself and not worry about how they might take it.

Authors who I've grown to love and then get to 'meet' or chat with, always have that odd disconnect between being colleagues and inspiration for me and being people. I know. They're people. But not people as in 'my people' They are always one step above being 'my people'. If that makes any sense.

I might comment on their blog, or chat with them at some group event, while inside, I'm peeing myself and wondering if they're just being kind and think I'm actually some nut case. You know: "humour the crazy person in case they become a stalker" kind of deal. Or maybe, they're just like me, just hoping to connect with a few fans, find out what their readers like in hopes that they can deliver more of the good stuff. I like to think most writers are exactly as they seem: kind, generous people who like to talk about what they do for a living.

If you're an author, have you ever thought about this? Do you care if the person you're talking to, who's wiggling around in ecstasy at your latest offering like a little eager puppy is a fellow author or a reader who doesn't write, too? (do those even exist?)

What about from the readers' perspective? Do you like the authors you chat with to be all...author-y, or do you prefer t the down-to-earth approach?

Not that anyone's opinion is really likely to change my own mind about any of this. As a writer, I love talking to my readers. I like to hear what they've enjoyed, and it's helpful to know what they didn't. (I won't say I like that, because really, who likes it), but I will say I always encourage it and appreciate hearing the bad along with the good. How else would I get to the stuff y'all like if I'm busy writing stuff you don't, and I don't know about it? I doubt I'll ever be other than as I am when I'm talking to readers; just me.

As for the part about embarrassing myself when I'm chatting with an author I love to read, well, I can't make any promises. I try to be professional and courteous, and act my age, but hell. If I love what you've done, you just have to realize, I'm a reader, too, and you might get some squee on ya. It happens. Bring a tissue.

What Romance is...

2010-06-28T11:55:00.001-04:00

According to Kimberlee Shortland: http://kemberleeshortland.blogspot.com/2010/06/blowing-curtains.html

Now, this is a really interesting and informative blog post. I enjoyed reading it, and I think she did a pretty good job tracking the evolution of the romance/erotica genre.

Just one thing I would quibble with: Why, oh why are all things gay so often piled together under erotica, and 'nuff said?

Quote:
"Erotica also allows same sex partners, advanced sexual experimentation, S&M, bondage and other fetishes, even self-pleasuring. There seems to be few limits... "

I know we write sex between men. But it isn't all sex, all the time. Sure there's gay erotica, and obviously gay porn, but there is also plenty of gay romance out there, where sex never even happens. There are plenty of books written for young adults featuring gay protaganists, and I've read a few fantasy books with strong homoerotic or homoromatic overtones, but narry even a kiss between the men (or women) in question. For the love of humanity, people, stop it. Being queer does not make us sex fiends. There's no need to keep us segrigated from the masses.

/rant. For now.
(Yes, I know. I complain about this alot, but it bugs me.)

Free Read: Who Says Shamrocks Aren't Lucky?

2010-06-21T14:45:00.001-04:00

Ever wonder where authors get their ideas? You'd be surprised how small an incident or how inconsequential a turn of conversation it takes to blossom into an entire story. Sometimes, the idea isn't even mine. In the case of my Irish Lovers, as I like to call them, the idea came from a number of oh-so-helpful fellow authors and readers.

You see I was innocently perusing one of my favourite yahoo groups one day, when I saw an interesting post go by that went something like this:
"Come vote for your choices for this month's chose your own m/m romance."
Now, I was intrigued, so I followed the link. Much like leaving a trail of gum drops leading down a woodland path, Kris lured me into her domain. I followed blithely along. And found myself at Kris's blog, where, indeed, she had a post up asking her blog followers to make choices between some odd picks indeed.

You see, the idea is that she thinks up the craziest things she can manage, as to who the characters in a story should be, where the story should be set, what the story should feature by way of props and interesting complications. Then her chosen writer, or victim, as she likes to call them, must take the choices the readers have decided on, by majority vote, and incorporate them into a holiday themed story. Sound crazy?

Crazy fun, is what it is. Just call me Hansel. I followed that trail of candy, and walked right into the witch's hut (not that Kris is a witch! She's actually one of the nicest people I've come across on the web) I immediately said to myself:

"Self, you can do this! This is fun!!! Volunteer!"

And me self, being the pushover that she is, volunteered to take up the challenge. Kris laughed herself silly at the idea of an author volunteering for this crazy assignment.
And from prompts such as: A character with green skin, A set looking like an Irish Pub, A rugby player who wants to be a twink, a potato shaped like Bono and a dildo with green shamrocks, my Irish lovers, Ian McVeigh and David MacDougal were born. My story was to be ready to go live by St. Patrick's Day.

Check out the post: http://krisngoodbooks.blogspot.com/2010/02/jaimes-story-your-choices.html#comments
Mission accomplished. Kris, my friend, the joke's on you, because not only did I write your story, but David and Ian are back for round two; Good to be Home, soon to be available at Loveyoudivine, and round three is already in the works.

The PDF version of Who Says Shamrocks Aren't Lucky, with a lovely cover, that you can download to your e-readers is now available!.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/33192212/Who-Says-Shamrocks-Aren-t-Lucky-by-Jaime-Samms

And by the way, that's Kris's title. Great, isn't it?

Please do check out the other authors' stories while you're there. There's some really great, entertaining stuff. I tell you, this has generated some very off the wall stories from some terrific authors.
Bring it on, Kris! I meet your challenge and raise you another go at your silly game!!!

Blurb: Ian's budding relationship with David seems to focus on the one thing David is both fantastic at, and loves; sex. Ian's not sure he can keep up. When David's past comes calling, and David goes running, Ian is not sure what to think. He has no idea where he stands with his new lover, only that he's sure he doesn't want to share.

Review of Spinning

2010-06-20T19:47:00.000-04:00

Well;
I haven't had a review of one of my stories in what seems like a really long time. This one was interesting, and full of really good points. I'm flattered about the comments about my writing, and had to nod my head in agreement about the world-building, the length and the ending. The good news is that this is only the first book in the series, and the next will be out in October. There will be more of Ken and Mikko and the new oder of the world they live in soon. If you're at all interested in seeing what Kassa at Rainbow Reviews had to say about the story, here's the link: http://www.rainbow-reviews.com/?p=6401

"The writing is once again top notch, as expected of Samms, and the emotion connects with the reader immediately. "

(Sorry. I really couldn't resist, and that is such a fantastic compliment. I'm all ablush and yet indulging in self-pimping at the same time. Go me.)

Spinning Release

2010-06-02T09:54:00.000-04:00

You may or may not have heard me mention this around. I've been very excited about ths book. It's very close to my heart for many reasons. It's a little dark, and was a little scary for me to write, but I think it has turned out fantastic, and it does end on a hopeful note. If you liked Poor Boy, you might enjoy this, though it's more paranormal and post natural disaster than urban grit. I hop you like it.

BLURB: Ken has fallen in love twice in his unnaturally long life. He's spent the rest of it trying to forget what falling out of it feels like. Not even the end of civilization has distracted him from his own misery, and now, desperate and achingly lonely, he calls the one person who's never hung up on him.

Mikko lost Ken once, letting life get in the way of love, and ever since the day Ken ran, he's been trying to track him down. He's honed his skills over the years, tracking Ken through the morass of men and ugly affairs, waiting for the chance to make things right.

Ken thinks his messy past is a secret from Mikko, and is too ashamed to admit any of it. Mikko has secrets of his own, things he's discovered about their very nature he's sure Ken's not ready to hear. Back together, after years of cat and mouse, Ken has to learn to trust a man he knows isn't telling him everything, and Mikko has to figure out how to fix something his own negligence might have destroyed beyond hope of repair.

Ken gazed out the back window of the house to the waves; dark, rolling mounds lifted the horizon and dropping it again into the abyss on a rhythmic schedule. Gulls wheeled and cried over the water, white dots between the grey overcast and the darker ocean.
"Newfoundland?" The incredulous accusation jerked Ken's attention back to the phone call, "Seriously?"

"What about it?" Ken tossed his soccer ball up and caught it one-handed. Held in his other hand, the cool plastic of his ancient cell warmed against his ear.

"Um...it's a rock, for starters." Mikko's indignation echoed thinly across the poor Atlantic connection. "Nothing grows there."

Ken's breath caught and his grip on the phone tightened. "So?" Belligerence, he noticed, had no echo. "You can't re-grow a broken heart, anyway." Gardening is for idiots who fall in love. He fixed his gaze on the barren rocks outside the window, taking comfort in their never-changing strength. The waves rose and fell on the same cadence as his breathing. Or maybe it was the other way round.

Silence didn't echo either, strung out along the line. He hung up. Sea waves splashed up over the rocks. He gulped in great breaths around the jagged edges. After a moment, the chirping ring tone soothed over his uneven breathing, and he flipped the phone open.
"I know it's tough, Kenny."

"You don't know fuck all." He snapped the phone closed again. A minute passed. Another. His knuckles ached. If he loosened his grip, he'd throw the damn thing. It wasn't Mikko's fault. Or the phone's. Still, he turned it to vibrate and tossed it onto the coffee table as another minute ticked past. The ring's vibration carried it almost to the floor before he lunged after the phone. His momentum carried him to the window and he leaned his forehead against the glass. The waves rolled in steadily as he opened the phone and held it to his ear.
"So where are you staying?" Mikko's voice drifted, soft over the connection. He never stayed properly hung-up on.

"Why does it matter?" Ken turned away from the ocean view and tossed the ball. This time it thumped off the wall, onto a bare table behind the couch, and obediently back into his hand, just like a soccer ball should. Gravity was predictable that way. Not like men.

"Because if I know you," came Mikko's reply, "and I do, you searched out some pre-furnished dump of an apartment and are sitting on someone else's lice-ridden mattress bouncing that ball of yours against paper-thin walls. Any moment now, an irate neighbour's going to come screaming down on you, and I should know where to send the cops after your bruised and bloodied self."
"It's a room, actually." Ken caught the ball on its second trip and hugged it against his chest. "I'm not sitting." He glanced at the grungy couch and grimaced, turning back to the comfort of the watery view. "No one wants to live this close to the ocean since the Wave hit. It was cheap."

"Even better."

"Shut it."

"So. Where?"

"What difference does it make?" You let me go. He smothered the logical, unwelcome follow-up that'd been impossible to stop, and Mikko had never been far, oceans notwithstanding. He always, always, answered his phone. Maybe he was a bit more like gravity than he was like other men.

"Kenny" Mikko's voice caressed his soul, even over the crappy connection. "Talk to me. Tell me what happened." He could be so gentle.

Ken's fingers shook as he closed the phone on that sweetness—that gentle caring.

Not even a minute passed before the phone amplified his trembling with its vibration. He opened it, brought it to his ear. This time, Mikko did not speak.

"Everyone leaves," Ken whispered at last, into the waiting silence.

Buy link: http://pinkpetalbooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=26&products_id=98

On Being a Professional

2010-04-08T11:34:00.000-04:00

I have been formulating a post in my head about somthing for a while now. So much of our time as authors is spent on line, chatting with readers, with each other, and just generaly being social. Some of us are just not social creatures to begin with, so this venue is a heady outlet. But it's so important to be careful just how much we let out. I've been wanting to post about this issue or while now, but since Lex Valentine just did, on the Avoid Writer's Hell blog, and she has said pretty much what I wanted to, I didn't see the point in reinventing the wheel.

So take a mosey on over and see what she has to say about it. It's great advice for new writers, and a fantastic reminder for anyone, really.

http://authorsalacart.com/awh/2010/04/06/how-much-is-too-much/

What do you think bout this?

Live and Let it Go

2010-02-27T22:08:00.000-05:00

I blogged about this topic a couple of years ago. (You can read the post here ) Seems I wasn't the only one to have noticed that set of Submissions guidelines. Rick Reed posted today about the same thing (read his post here) and if you scroll through the comments, you'll see a lot of people had a lot to say about it, and nothing complimentary.

Now, like I maintain in my first post, every publisher has the right to publish what they like. There are publishers out there who don't publish straight romance, and that's just fine. The issue was in the wording. I had my own non-helpful comments to make, but one intrepid writer took action. (That I know of, anyway)

She contacted the publisher and opened a dialogue. She pointed out the offence, and asked politely that the publisher take another look at her guidelines and maybe see if they couldn't be changed. She received a favourable response, and if you go to the site now, you'll see that the guidelines have been changed. They still don't publish GLBT romance, but they don't lump it in with the dregs of society, either.

Why am I bringing this up, you ask? Well, because. I read all those comments. I read comments from people I respect and like, and my own comment, after the fact of the conversation between writer and publisher that brought about the change, and it saddened me.

So many of us were ready to sit back and bitch. Ready to complain and condemn, but only one of us took action, only one of us extended an olive branch and tried to breach the gap and bring understanding. And please be sure I'm including myself in the bitchers...okay, so that's not a word, but you know what I mean.

So why are we so ready to jump to the conclusion that we are being marginalized? I know. It's happened over and over for so very long, that we no longer expect anything different, and our reaction, perhaps understandably, defaults to defensive. Assume the worst. Protect, circle the wagons. It takes a special person to step outside that protecive circle and try to make a difference.

Some of you will point out that some person, somewhere, wrote those guidelines originally, and they maybe did, or do, believe that homosexuality is as great and terrible a thing as those vices with which it was grouped. You might be right. Maybe they did. Maybe they needed one person to say the right thing, to help them understand, to change their mind. Maybe it was a grave misjudgement, a thoughtlessness that they didn't notice what they were doing, or how it might be perceived, and one person pointing out the problem was enough to make the change. Maybe, they still think what they always thought, and just don't want to be perceived as offending anyone. The point is, we can't know what was or is in anyone else's head unless we ask.

Rather than ask, we all sat back and vented our own anger and frustration. That, my friends, is not communication. That isn't reaching for understanding, or striving for change. Are we immune to the hate and anger we're accusing others of? I don't think so. I know I'm not. There are two things I was reminded of today.

The first, and most important, is that I must be the change I want to see, and the other is that there is only one person whose actions I have any real influence over. Mine.

Let's hope I manage to hold on to my moment of clarity and do better next time. Anyone else have an eye opening moment when they realize they fell into a pattern that wasn't maybe as constructive as it might have been? Tell me about it, please.

On Writing Someone Who's Not You

2010-01-15T15:39:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking, as happens occasionally, and as I have a do to attend tomorrow, the thought on my mind is about what I write; specifically, gay men. Lots of people would question how I know enough about gay men to be able to write about them. What can I tell those people? I'm not a gay man. This much is obvious. I'm a woman in a hereto marriage sitting firmly in the middle of the rainbow.

I've often wondered what men think about the men I write. Do they seem like the men they know? The men they hang out with? The men they might date? Some have said yes, my men are sufficiently manly to pass as gay men, and I'm pretty proud of that. My experience with men deals mostly with my straight, and sadly uninformed and often unacceptably biased relatives. But I have a lot of them around. I can write men. I know men. I just don't know a lot of gay men other than my friends on line.

So I write with what experience I have in mind, and hope I don't screw up the relationships too badly.

I think there might be (I don't know, but it stands to reason there probably are) gay men out there who resent women writing about them. I can see why they would. Won't say I understand the feeling. How can I? I'm not them. But I can logically follow their reasoning and it makes sense to me they might be uncomfortable, upset, downright mad about the situation. For more reading, I highly recommend the following articles, both extremely thoughtful and interesting views on the subject that is very important to a lot of people in the genre: http://gwailowrite.livejournal.com/292699.html and http://logophilos.livejournal.com/347199.html

Now, think about this: Haven't women objected to being fetishized and objectified in writing, movies and other media for, well, for decades upon decades? I might get in trouble for drawing this comparison, but bear with me for a moment. I'm not just talking about the Sheik and his kidnapped sex slave here. I'm talking about the strong, independent woman virginalized so her man can show her all the wonders of the bedroom, and the princess, presumably being trained to run a country, who needs a prince to save her. These are not role models I want for either of my children, the girl or the boy. I want my daughter to grow up knowing she has a right to her own sexuality and not to feel ashamed of it, and being confident and competent enough not to need a man. I want my son to grow up respecting the women in his life, caring for them, and honouring them and their right to know more than him and be stronger than him, because sometimes, this is the case. (Sorry guys. Gay or straight. You know it's true.)

So why would men want these stereo types any more than we do? Simple. They wouldn't.

So next time you think about writing your men, get into their heads. It might seem odd at first, but it's necessary. If the guy you write doesn't ask for directions, it isn't enough to use that stereotype. Ask yourself why. That's what's going to make your man an individual, pull him away from the stereotypical into the unique. "Because men don't" isn't an answer. Why does this man not? If it's for fear of his peers mocking him, where does that fear come from? No one acts in a vacuum, and the important thing here is to realize this. You are writing about people. Treat them that way. It will not only help to avoid hard feelings, it will make your story a better story, your characters more enjoyable, and you a better writer.

There is far more to this debate than I've encompassed here, I know. The links I've provided are a good start. If you want to know more, want to ask questions, come out to the chat at AvoidWriter'sHellChatters yahoo (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/AvoidWritersHellChatters/?yguid=339205342) tomorrow (Sat, Jan 16) and ask away. There will be plenty of writers there to answer questions and everyone is welcome, readers and writers alike.

Loveyoudivine Alterotica Newsletter

2010-01-02T19:01:00.001-05:00

Because the newsletter fits better on my livejournal, I've posted it there. Wander on over when you get a chance, and have a looksee.

Hard to Believe.

2009-11-30T12:56:00.000-05:00

It's been over a year, and yet, hard to believe it's only been about a year. But there it is. My first release with Freya's Bower came out October 1, 2008. Just over a year ago. I'm going to guess I didn't spend nearly enough time in the interval sleeping. And yet. I'm not really a prolific writer, as these things go. There are writers who put out a far sight more work than I do. Lots of them even have day jobs and families, as I do. So how do they do it? How do they find the time to write so many words and do so much promotion?

I can't answer the question for them, I only know, in my life, there has to be a balance. I have two extremely competent young children. A nine year old who can, in a pinch, or just when she feels like it, cook supper for the entire family. And we aren't talking about bowls of cereal, either. I mean slicing, dicing, and cooking up a mess of Sheppard's Pie. We're talking full course meal. Then there is the six year old who knows, if he's going to eat, he's going to have to fend for himself during the day. And he's recently graduated from Rice Crispies to toasting himself a bagel.

I know. I'm lucky. All I have to do is sit at the kitchen table and supervise, and things get done around me. Because I taught them to be self sufficient. I want my job with them to be over. Much as I love them, I am just the mother. Not the life support system, and they are coming to realize that.

So I sit at the kitchen table and write while they learn stuff around me. Now, the trick becomes finding meaningful time alone with my other children. The made up ones. The ones who really cannot exist without my input. The characters who wander in and out of my life and onto the pages of my stories are as much a drain on my resources as the children of my loins. I don't know how it is for other writers. I just know how it is for me. When I get into the throes of a writing binge, the rest of the world falls away, and heaven help anyone who comes tapping on my shoulder looking for a missing sock or a snack or spouting any problem short of oozing blood.

The trick, I've been told, is balance. I've never been much of one for balance. All or nothing. Multi-tasking ends when writing starts. The more quiet and distraction free my environment, the happier I am. But to write prolifically means shutting out more of the world more often. Hard to do when there is the constant "Mommy, Mom, Ma!!!" going on in the background, just under the skin of concentration. And really, they are young, still, they do need attention after a sort, and so cannot be shut out. Not really.

So how do you find the balance between one set of children and the other? How do you do it? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

WindBlown Reviewed

2009-09-20T21:00:00.000-04:00

The first review (that I know of) for WindBlown, at Paranormal Romance Reviews: Windblown is unlike any other book I have ever read...

Check out the rest here: http://www.paranormalromance.org/reviews/review.php?id=32011

Thanks, Melissa. You might be happy to know you'll get your wish. I've got more in store for these three.

Copper Age Magic - September 12

2009-09-10T20:37:00.004-04:00

What is this, you ask? It's my friend Bryn's new venture. Along with her partner in comicdom, Tom Brown, she's launching a new world full of wonder and tenticles, and they'll be talking and blogging and all about it all weekend. Click on the poster to the left and go see what it's all about.

Copper Age is a creative enterprise focused on comics but also producing art, stories, music, video, and pretty much anything else that seems like a good idea at the time. The Copper Age, historically speaking, came before the Iron Age we now live in. Copper is not as good a metal for killing people as iron, but you can make nice body decorations out of it. So that’s Copper Age - Awen touched, tree hugging, in love with folklore and mythology, and far too fond of tentacles to be healthy.

http://www.itisacircle.com/ launches with The Blind Fisherman – a tale which started life as a series of pictures and later had words attached to it. It’s a small story arc, and not quite traditional comic form. There are sea monsters, demented occultists, and other strangeness. After this comes Personal Demons – which is more like a conventional comic and begins with the witch Annamarie Nightshade visiting a gothic house, and finding something entirely unexpected.

Click on the banner below to Subscribe to their news letter and keep up with their progress

Dark Divas Wicked Wednesdays

2009-08-05T11:51:00.001-04:00

Over at Dark Diva Reviews, today is our first ever Wicked Wednesday. Each week, Amanda will introduce us to a new author. Then she provides you with questions. Answer those questions and email them to her. Come back each week to meet new authors and earn more entries. At the end of the month, she will draw a winner for a $10 Amazon gift certificate.

http://ddrreviews.blogspot.com/2009/08/wicked-wednesdays.html

Good luck!

A Very Important Message

2009-08-01T00:33:00.001-04:00

So, I was updating my GLBT wiki page (finally!) when I realized...I had no idea what I was doing. I realized this about five seconds into the procedure, and so I decided the best place to start would be to go and see what other authors' pages looked like. I chose a few at random, and a few people I know know how to do this shit...er...stuff, and who have nice webpages, and I came across something wholly unexpected and totally worth sharing.

Now, I know many people on my flist will have already seen this. Internet Piracy is a very hot button topic these days, but I I just wanted to share this link, because my friend Zath has said what so many of us believe, and said it so very eloquently.

Linkage: http://bookworld.editme.com/ZathynPriest Scroll on down to the bottom of his page and watch that little video.

2009-06-24T13:19:00.000-04:00

Well, it's been a while, but here's the good news: June 28, 2009, release date for Black Roses. This little story started an avalanche, I tell you! In trying to find it a new home after the mag where it was first published for all of about three weeks, closed, I pitched an idea to a friend, who pitched it to her friend, who told her boss, and there it is: Immortal Fire.

An anthology of love stories between immortal men. You'll find vamps and ghosts, spirits, sprites (well, dryads, but sprites was better alliteration) and lucky men who find immortality in magic. The stories are written by a host of wonderful authors from across the glbt writing community;

Clare London
Adrianne Brennan
Nix Winter
M. King
Bryn Colvin
and of course, myself.

On the 28th, M. King and I will release the first two titles in ebook format, and host a chat to celebrate the launch of a series of releases that will culminate in a print book of all the stories compiled into one fantastic package.

Join us Sunday the 28th for the Immortal Fire Anthology Launch Chat at His and His Kisses from loveyoudivine. The sexiest gods in the celestial skies are on fire. Jamie Samms and M. King are your hostesses and will announce their releases - Black Roses and Almost Human, as well as introduce you to their fellow antho authors and launch the Hunt For Immortal Fire - to win free ebooks or a copy of the print volume. Join His and His Kisses by sending a blank email to hisandhiskisses_subscribe@yahoogroups.com

See you Sunday at 12:00 Noon EDT!!!

Clare London podcasts

2009-04-23T09:54:00.002-04:00

Lots of you know Clare, so if you haven't already heard about this, you should go listen to her interview at Packing Heat with Jordon Castillo. She's got a lot of good advice about gettin' it done, and it's a nice insight into the wonderful lady behind the writing. Even if you don't know Clare, I think you'll enjoy the interview, because if you're an established author, you can commiserate...we're all up to our eyeballs in too much to do, and if you're just starting out, you'll get a bit of insight into what lies ahead.

Here's the link: http://packingheat.net/2009/04/22/packing-heat-050-clare-london-interview.aspx

Grab a coffee and have a listen.

What's Love Got to Do With It?

2009-03-22T11:07:00.002-04:00

This morning, some friends and I were discussing the merits (or lack thereof) of the Twilight series, by Stephanie Myers. I'm not really going to go into the discussion now. I will save that post for another day. I just wanted to invite my friend, Nix Winter, over to share a thought she had in relation to teh discussion, becasue I thought it was such a wonderful, inspiring idea.

So, here she is, Nix, and her thoughts on what love has to do with us, our lives, how we live. IWith her permissipn, I've pulled this long quote from the loop on which it was first posted: Castlesintheskyflightsoffantasy)

I don't know.. but Bella must be something... when I think of a character
that's over a hundred years old, probably able to come into decent amounts of
money.. all the art and lovely exciting things in the world and .. what that
character wants most is to... go to high school and date this person who
probably hasn't finished forming her own opinions yet, let alone done anything
with her life. Yeah, cuz he missed out on high school when he was young.
Now, granted, I haven't read the things, nor seen the movie, but I think it
totally plays into the fantasy that people who may not be as confident in
themselves as they might be... about being loved for some magical something or
other hocum rather than being loved for who we are... because when we think
we're nothing, magical hocum is our best hope.

I had this friend once...
who wrote a story about a vampire falling in love with the books written by this
middle aged, physically fraile author... At the time I was kinda.. ewwww.. but
that was because I was younger and couldn't see anything other than m/m as being
attractive to me. Now, I see that if we write the main character/love interest
as someone we might actually be .. it says a lot about us.

If we really want to be Bella.. how long does that last in our lives? A year? Two? If those were the very best years of our lives, and I'm not going back to sodding high
school for nothing, then what does that say about how we see the world, what we
hope for in the word?

Maybe it's just me, growing closer to menopause than homeroom, raining on the parade of the magic mating ritual... I sound bitter and grumpy, but you know....
rather than this splendid idea of seeing someone and KNOWING they're your mate...
I rather like getting to know someone, being flawed on both sides, finding that person's company enthralling and validating, spending time with them without any commitments or promises, and sitting here at my computer, taking a deep breath and realizing how beautiful the world seems when I think of them. Love can seem so very fragile and I can understand the value of wanting this "YOU are my MATE!" kind of magic.. but really Isn't a crystal goblet more lovely than a concrete one? Love is precious because it is so beautiful, so fragile, so unrushable - it happens in
it's time, from full flush in a moment, to taking months or years to build
itself up - and because our lives are so dependent on that tender glow of
acceptance and need.

And you know... Twilight outsells the crap out of my books. So what do I know.
Nix

I think, dear Nix, you know a lot about how to follow your heart,
and that is an inspiration to me, every day. Thank you for letting me share
this little bit of what makes you so special to me with my friends.

Blogging News

2009-03-10T12:51:00.003-04:00

Blogging News So, in the interst of expanding my horizons, I've taken an opportunity to blog at Sensual 'n Secret, the blog belonging to Jade Twilight and Tess McKall. And now, also the home of a few more of us ready to share a few secrets and offer up a bit of insight from our own experiences. Hope you'll drop by and have a read once in a while. There's never a dull post, I'll tell you that right now.

Here's my introductory post. First comes Lust

Interviewed!

2009-02-24T14:12:00.002-05:00

Check out my interview with Jener over at her blog.

She really knows how to ask the insightful questions. leave a comment, or ask afew questions of your own. I'll answer them as best I can.

2009-02-21T18:34:00.004-05:00

So, I've been busy lately, what with all the new goings on in the Dark Diva den, and trying to keep up with my writing and starting a full time job, but I still managed to get a book out there, and here's the info on it. Down at the bottom, you'll find a buy link. Thanks for your time
Jaime

Info
Title: Moving Day
Genre: m/m romance
Length: 30,000

Blurb
Mike Paloso has lost count of the number of times he's helped childhood friend Jay Charles move. Jay's never had much of a home to call his own, content to follow his boyfriends around, but each breakup means a new pad, until the next guy comes along. This time, it's different. There's been no breakup, and no new pad. Instead, there's one hell of a fixer-upper, and not just the house Jay's inherited from his latest, late, beau. This time, Mike has to find a way to repair Jay's broken dreams and mangled heart.
With every reno, there comes some demo, but Mike's not sure he's ready to dismantle his life to rebuild Jay's.

Excerpt
The room at the top of the stairs on the right was the largest of three bedrooms. The light fixture was missing, though, so I had taken up the trouble light and found a few candles. I had our sleeping bags spread out and pillows on the floor facing the television. There was no cable, so only three channels. Jay stood in the doorway with the plate of burgers in his hand.

“Cozy.”

I took the food from him and pointed down the hall to the bathroom. “Go get into dry clothes. I’ll get these ready.” I set the plate on top of some boxes and started dressing them as he went to change. I didn’t realize he had come back until he spoke.

“You can stay.”

I couldn’t quite hide my start. “I liked Darren you know, Jay.”

“Funny.” Jay came in and sat down beside me. “He didn’t much like you.”

“Why?”

Jay shrugged. “You were almost the only thing we ever fought about.” He took the plate I handed him and lifted the bun to see what I’d put on his burger, but he didn’t pick it up. “Then, at the end, he told me to keep you close. To be patient.”

I looked at him. Damp hair clung to the back of his neck and flopped down over his eyes. He had on a tank top and loose pyjama bottoms, and the warmth of the room after the cool rain flushed his cheeks. There had to be a mourning period my libido was completely ignoring. I took my plate and shuffled back to lean against the wall.

“Patient?” Close to him was something I definitely should not be when he looked like that and I had Brian’s voice in my head telling me I was full of shit. He was wrong. I could admit when I wanted something this badly. I wasn’t full of shit. I was just a shitty friend because me with my mind in his pants was definitely not what he needed right now.

“You alright, Mike?”

“Yeah. I’m…hungry.” I tore into my burger and concentrated on it, hoping it would help.

coming February 14 to Freya's Bower Click on the link to buy it!

2009-02-11T11:36:00.001-05:00

Do you read M/M romance? Do you write it? Join me and fellow authors at the Latte Lounge tomorrow and talk the day away, or just drop in on your lunch and say hi.

Join Nix Winters, MJ King, and I and many other gay romance writers, like Clare London, Stevie Woods, Ava Marsh, and Josh Lanyon (and more, but I forget all the names).
We'll be talking about our work, how and why we write what we do. There will be contests and excerpts, and an all-round good time. Please come on over and join the fun.