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Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Ending the month with a Masquerade!

Hi Carson,

I am so excited to be included on your blog. I stopped in today to bloviate about my new book “The Slave’s Mask” which is book two of “The Masquerade Trilogy”. Okay, I won’t bloviate. I’ll just tell you a little about it. It takes place in 1863 during the American Civil War, though most of the story takes place in London. I like BDSM and if you have read any of my books, there is a little sprinkling of bondage through most of them. 

“The Slave’s Mask” has more than most. I would classify it as a historical BDSM book. In “Slave”, one of my characters is a man who has the need to dominate other men during sex and in the time period that this book takes place, not only is homosexual a term that is taboo but BDSM would be thought of as deviant or perverse, most certainly.

I’ve read many books with elements from mild to extreme in their use of BDSM and I will admit to you, dear readers, more than one made me extremely uncomfortable. A wide variety of people enjoy the odd use of handcuffs or being tied to the bed and “forced” to submit as long as the players are consenting adults and the parties agree. There are many more extreme forms that have me wiggling on the chair, and not in a good way. “Slave” is not extreme in its use of domination and submission but it is a clear theme and most of my character’s bed play, involves BDSM in one form or another.

The theme throughout this story is the clear need of one character to dominate and the need of one character to submit to his “Master”. With both of these men, it is a “need” that they explore together and the balance that they find which is a perfect blend for these two men.  I enjoy the journey of two men finding their way to love in a relationship, especially when one craves something but doesn’t really understand that this is a clear “need”.  In this case, my submissive, “Slave” doesn’t even realize the need to be dominated and he must be led. It isn’t so much the arrival at the end, but the journey to get there and I just enjoy as an author, taking you there. I hope that I’ve done a good job for you and that you enjoy “The Slave’s Mask”.

 EXCERPT:
 
“Bend over the bed and spread your legs. Accept your plug.” Master ordered. Slave moved to obey, still unsteady on his feet. Master noted that he trembled with fear. He moved away, walking to the sideboard and opened several drawers, removing an object. He knew that the minute he walked away, Slave’s terror would ramp up. There was a special bond between Slave and Master and it was the Master’s place to set the tone in their relationship. He had the responsibility to make sure that his Slave was well cared for but not at the expense of his absolute submission. He opened the bed table drawer bringing out the jar of cream he would need and then moved in behind Slave. He placed his left hand on the small of Slave’s trembling back. His hot red ass, blushed beautifully after his spanking.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Slave.” He bent to reassure the young man, knowing that as his towering form surrounded Slave’s back, his body would be very intimidating to the vulnerable sub. “I am going to insert a plug into your back hole. It will stretch you and it will hurt at first but you will become accustomed to it. You will stay aroused because it will press upon your gland, deep within and you will be ready for me whenever I desire you, stretched to accommodate me.” He felt his small sub shudder beneath him, but to his credit, the man didn’t utter a sound, not so much as a whimper. “Have you ever had a plug before, Slave?”
“No, Master,” came the shaky reply.
“Good, then I will be the first to do this to you, along with many other things that I have planned for the week.” He knew how smug he sounded and he waited for, and was rewarded by a tiny shiver. He ran both hands from the small of Slave’s back down to the blushing tight globes of his ass. He massaged them for a moment, drawing a whimper and then Master, separated the cheeks with his two very large hands. At the first glimpse of Slave’s tight hole, he went rock hard beneath his silky robe. “Ahh, you are very beautiful my Slave,” he growled.
“Thank you, Master,” came the muffled answer.
Master let go of the young Slave’s ass cheeks and picked up the plug that he had selected. It was curved at one end, designed to press constantly against the young man’s prostate and larger than the dildo he had used on Slave the night before. He had selected it for its size to stretch Slave for his own cock. Though Master was longer and thicker than any of the glass phalluses in the velvet box, he still knew that a man of his size would most certainly hurt a small man like Slave if he wasn’t very careful with him, and he had no desire to damage his beautiful cherub.
Master opened the jar of cream and spread a liberal amount all over his fingers and then slipped a finger into the crack of Slave’s ass. Slave jumped, probably because of the cold against the heated flesh. Master found Slave’s tiny hole and massaged it for only a moment before inserting it, sliding it deeply within as he told Slave to breathe easy and relax. He heard a tiny moan as he worked Slave’s hole, thrusting more deeply as he prepared him for the plug. Slave’s entire body began blushing and Master loved the sight of it. He ran a practiced palm up and over Slave’s bottom as he inserted a second finger. Slave gasped and Master leaned in and kissed the globe, he’d just been touching.
“It’s all right my pretty slave. You will take whatever I give you because you know it pleases me. You also know that I will push you to take more and more. Soon you will be begging for a good hard fucking. I have a large cock, Slave, and it will be hard for you to take, but take it, you will.” Slave moaned as Master scissored his fingers inside his back passage, opening him up as he gave him an internal massage. A few minutes later, Slave was riding the fingers. Master smiled to himself and slipped in a third, stretching him wide.
“Master!” Slave gasped. “Too much! It’s too much! Ahhh…”
“It’s not too much. You will take what I give you and though it may hurt, your pain brings me pleasure, so you will endure it,” Master growled low.
“Ahh, ahh, mmm… yes, Master,” Slave groaned quietly. He writhed on the bed in front of Master and began humping the sheets below.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Time to menage a cowboy!

Thank you Carson for having me today to guest blog on your blog, Gus Who Like Romance!

We’re celebrating Valentine’s Day this month on the blog and that means all those sweet packages, BDSM, and a few little ménages. Which is why I am here to talk about one of my all time favorite books, Heart of a Cowboy. It features three of the hottest men I ever wrote about, a sexy shifter, an Indian shaman, and a wannabe cowboy named Derek.

For those that don’t know me, I’m Missy Lyons and writer erotic romance. I have been published for about six years now but have really been enjoying writing gay characters in my last few books. One of last romances released is a gay ménage with one of my all time favorite characters to write, Derek in Heart of a Cowboy.

But I wanted to say why Derek is one of my favorite characters when I’ve written about hundreds of people. You see like most of us, Derek isn’t perfect and neither is his family. He has a mother in a mental hospital and has therefore spent most of his childhood in foster care, and being gay made it especially hard to fit in with the other kids. Eventually he found it easier to live on the streets than to suffer the constant abuse and sexual exploitation. At least he had control of his life on the streets—or so he thought.

After learning more about him (because he was constantly in my head talking to me) I needed to see Derek got his happily ever after. He had to see life got better than living on the streets, and I believed love was the only road to get there.



Just a quick little something about the book:
Derek is only working for a month to pay off his debt to Jessie, but not everyone likes his openly homosexual lifestyle. He knows what it feels like to be beaten to within an inch of his life so he doesn't give a rat's ass what people think.
The attraction between him and the hunky Indian Ishwar is instantly satisfying. He finds himself begging for more every second he is near him, but when he falls into the arms of a stranger, things only begin to heat up, until an unforeseen peril puts him in danger.
Derek must prove he has the heart of a cowboy, and it will take every ounce of love and strength in his heart to make it through this ordeal alive.
*****
Please enjoy this excerpt from Heart of a Cowboy. Derek has just been bailed out of prison and this is his first day on the ranch.


Derek looked around the small room. It was small by anyone’s standards, barely large enough to hold the bunk beds and a chest of drawers, but it was his. He was lucky enough he wouldn’t be sharing it with anyone else. It felt good to claim the space as his.
“Can’t believe Jesse didn’t bring your clothes.” Luke shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “I know that boy has better manners than that. I helped raise him right. He should have dropped by your house to pick up your clothes before he came over here. I’ll take you home this evening if you want.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I told him not to bother.” Derek wasn’t going to admit he was too embarrassed to allow Jesse to see where he lived or how bad his neighborhood was. He would just get his stuff later, if he bothered to go home at all. Better to be thought of as homeless than to go back now. “I don’t have a home to go home to.”
“All right, I’m going to let that lie for now, but it’s okay to accept help when you need it. Around here, we like to think of each other as family.”
“Not me. I am more like the distant relative just passing through.”
“You might be surprised. You may find you like it here enough to call it home.”
“Maybe.” Derek didn’t want to argue with the old man, but he knew better than to try to think he belonged.
“Well, come along. I’ll give you the grand tour.” Luke motioned for him to follow, walking out of the small room down the long hallway, past many doors. Derek peered inside to find rooms similar to his, each with a bunk bed and a dresser. The only difference being they were lived in, and covered with pictures and personal items, not bare walls.
There was an office midway through, with a blond cowboy sitting behind the desk. He looked like he could be a twin to Jesse, with his large muscle-covered frame and those brooding blue eyes.
“Hey, Beau! Got a new boy to add to the payroll.” Luke spread his arm wide.
Derek couldn’t get over how similar the two looked. “You related to Jesse?”
“Hell no! Least not till he marries my sister, Angela.” He gave a playful wink to Derek and reached out to shake his hand. “Now who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
 Funny, but Angela and this man didn’t look alike at all. Angela was clearly of some Asian descent and this guy couldn’t be any whiter. “Derek’s my name, sir.”
“Yeah, I heard about you. Call me Beau. I handle the books around here, and Jesse talked to me about the situation. Once you work off your debt, I hope you will consider staying. We could use another strong man around here. Jesse keeps talking about expanding his territory and increasing the head of cattle, but he needs more hired hands first.”
“I’ll think about it.” It was one thing to pay back what he owed, but he couldn’t imagine living here for good. He doubted he’d be welcomed that long. He had moved from home to home as a kid because his foster parents would never accept him as he was. They called him damaged goods. When they tried to change him into something he wasn’t, he acted out in more ways than one, taking self-destructive paths that ultimately led him to the group home downtown, and that dead end led to running away to hit the streets.

****
Heart of a Cowboy is available from Siren Publishing and other ebook distributors
To read more or pick up your copy please visit Book Strand

If you are interested in learning more about Missy Lyons you can visit her website here

Twitter: @missylyons  Facebook:

Thank you for having me out today Carson. I really appreciate the opportunity to share about Heart of a Cowboy!

Lots of love,
Missy Lyons

Friday, February 24, 2012

Evrain stands out of the group!

A Valentine for Evrain, is one of my favorite pieces. I wrote it in one sitting. He was such a determined and damaged character, I found his voice irresistible, dark and even cruel. I wasn’t sure it would be accepted to the Never Say Never Anthology but it was. The theme was “never say never to love” and so I found Evrain, or Evrain found me and he told his story. Love is not for him, but, oddly, he runs a small town chocolate shop where he not only seduces the locals but heals the broken hearted with his wares. He may not believe in love but his chocolate knows better.


I have read Evrain aloud at several live events and even read from it in a live web interview and have always found the audience receptive. There is a little S&M mixed into the sexuality of the story but it’s what was being told to me, I had to tell his story. Evrain is part of a collection about love and the power of hardened hearts finding love; he may be the hardest heart of all but…as we all do…he melts eventually and at the hands of a hot Latin lover. Boy, have I been, and continue to be there. Although not my most popular work, A Valentine for Evrain has a special place in my heart. It is honest, harsh and a little brutal, and aren’t those the things that make love complex, yummy and keeps us wanting more?



Blurb: Evrain runs a chocolate store in a small town and is not above using the storefront for hot encounters with local guys. But love is definitely not in the cards, at least until he meets Ambrosio. The Sexy Latino soon teaches Evrain a lesson in love that neither man will soon forget.

A Valentine for Evrain (Part of the Never Say Never Anthology)

also available in PRINT and Soon on AUDIO

Excerpt:
There was this assistant principal: sweet-lipped, early thirties, whose unconscious habit of wearing tight pants caught not only the interest of the town’s conservative population but mine as well, both for entirely different reasons. But I knew I'd bend him and, boy did I. He came in searching for something one night after school. He looked wild-eyed, caged; I know what a man wants when he looks that way. He said he was originally from the city, his eyes shifting hungrily, as if consuming the exotic spread of the store. I watched him inhale the sweet caramel smell of chocolate, cinnamon, lavender, and me. He did not know he wanted it, didn't know what it was that made his hands grip the counter, but I knew.

"I'm heading over to see this girl." His eyes scanned the counter top, the various chocolates underneath teasing him. "I thought she'd like something, thought it'd be gentlemanly."

I remember nodding, thinking, yeah, yeah I have heard it before, drop and give me 20. Instead I just smiled, cut two slices of dark-chocolate ginger bark and handed one to him. Ginger makes one think hard about heat, lust, fucking. I ate my piece and watched for his reaction. We both started to sweat. I wiped the back of my neck, and he grabbed a napkin from a stack on the counter and swiped it across his forehead. There is nothing hotter than watching a man submit to the unknown. I have heard that the thrill of skydiving is not so much in the jump, but in the fall.

"You ever skydive?" I asked him, as he began pacing my tiny sugar-infused domain. He didn't answer just kept sucking on the bark, his teeth gnawing at the confection as if it held the answer to the question I had just asked; the tight khakis revealed his erection. I could see the confusion in his face. He didn't know why he was hard. He looked down, betrayed by his body’s reaction. He knew I was staring and turned away; this only gave me a better view of what I wanted most. His ass was round, full, sensual for a man's body. I knew he’d never had anyone do anything to it. I spit a piece of ginger into the trash, reached down, and felt my own stiffening monster. I knew I'd fuck him the minute I laid eyes on him months before. He could pretend, pace, sweat—it was all gonna come down to one fateful moment: one push over the edge, falling, spiraling downward into a delicious oblivion. He would move back to the city, of course. He would learn he could not get what he really wanted from this place. I remember laughing at that moment, and his angry reaction.

"You think it's funny?" He spat, the ginger was working. "You think I like working in this shit hole. Small towns, small-minded backwards…"

"Hey there, this is my home you're talking about," I arched an eyebrow and reached for another piece of the bittersweet, dark-chocolate, ginger bark, "small minds, and all."


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Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Valentine's Day in Vegas? Hell yeah!


Hi everyone!
Jaxx Steele here again to wish you all a Happy Valentine’s Day season. I for one like Valentine’s Day. I have heard many reasons on how the holiday came to be. Some say the day is a conspiracy made by the candy company to suck money out of people. Others say its conception came from honoring a gruesome massacre that happened somewhere. I think that’s kind of creepy that you would buy gifts for your loved ones to remember a day where so many were killed, but *shrugs* to each his own, right? 

Anyway, I don’t care where the idea came from. I like to think some extremely busy guy was slacking on putting in the time needed to keep his lover happy came up with a special day he could put on his calendar and have his secretary remind him to go big with the gifts. LOL Either way I love it. 

I love it so much that I wrote 3 Valentine’s stories. The other stories are, A Yeah-long Valentine (part of Dreamspinner Press Reflections of Love anthology) and Claiming Cupid (Silver Publishing) but today I will be focusing on my latest, Vegas Valentine.
Vegas Valentine is a sequel to my Christmas story, Hosting for the Holidays so it brings back my May-December couple Hector and Chad. This story gives a flash back on how they met and how Hector tries to make good on a promise he made Chad in Hosting for the Holidays. They are in Las Vegas for Valentine’s Day when they weren’t supposed to be. Neither of them are prepared for the day and have to make quick adjustments, but what better place to be when you have to come up with quick gifts! 
This book became a reality by accident. Hosting for the holidays takes place from Christmas Eve to New Years Eve. When that story line was completed I thought I was done, but Hector had other plans. When he made the promise to Chad in Hosting he wanted the readers to know that he made good on his promise. Vain, right! Anyway, my fist thought was to like throw together a little mini thing and make it a free read. Again, Hector wouldn’t shut up so it got way too long for that and boom! Vegas Valentine was born.
*shaking my head* 
Dag-gone shame how these characters run me sometimes, I tell you.
So, without further delay…Vegas Valentine!

Hector and Chad are back! 

Hector gets a chance to combine work with pleasure while in Las Vegas. He imagines a fabulous little getaway when business is complete, but when his work seminar threatens to ruin his plans, Hector has to come up with an idea to make Valentine's Day a day Chad will never forget.

Excerpt:
Chad walked in the door and Hector all but pounced on him. He lifted him from the floor with a hug, swung him around then kissed him soundly in the mouth before putting him down again.
“Wow! Not that I care, but what was that for?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day, sweetheart, remember? That’s all the reason I need.”
Chad’s handsome features transformed from excited to distraught almost instantly.
“Daddy, I’m so sorry. I thought we would be home for Valentine’s since your seminars were supposed to be over before now. I’m afraid I left your present there,” he confessed sadly.
Hector kissed him again. “It’s okay, baby, the only gift I need is you in my arms.” He saw the relief in Chad’s face and smiled. “Now come, I made dinner.”
Chad let out a noise of mock shock. “You made dinner? Should I be afraid?” he asked, letting Hector pull him to the dinette area.
Hector laughed. “No, you shouldn’t. I did manage to feed myself for several years, darling, before you came into my life, you know.”
“Yes, but as soon as I came into your life you quickly relinquished the job to me,” Chad reminded him with a soft chuckle.
Hector snickered, but offered no further rebuttal. He sat Chad in one of the chairs at the table and lifted the silver lid from the plate in front of him with grand fan fare.
 “Wow, it looks fantastic.”
Chad quickly sampled the food. Hector stood over him holding the lid against the table as he waited.
“Mmm, and it tastes wonderful. This has to be the best chicken parmesan I have ever had,” he praised.
Hector finally put the lid beside his plate and lifted his own. “Yes, well it’s just a little something I threw together,” Hector said humbly, finally taking the chair opposite him. “I just wanted to make sure dinner was especially good tonight.” He poured Chad a glass of red wine.
Chad lifted the glass and swirled the liquid within. “Oh yes, and it is. Is that why you got it from Perfecto Italiano?”
Hector’s jaw bobbed as he tried to speak, but no words came out. Chad’s eyes peered at him over his glass sparkling with mirth.
 “What? No, what—“ He  paused to clear his throat. “What makes you say that, Chad?” he asked, shifting his gaze to avoid making eye contact.
“Well, the fact that you have never made edible chicken parmesan since we’ve been together was my first clue. You always take me out for chicken parm because you know it’s my favorite and don’t want to mess it up.”
Hector blinked rapidly and lifted his own drink. “Yes, well—“
Chad held up a finger to stop him. “But the ticket in the lid was a dead giveaway," He finished tilting his finger to point at the lid.
Hector stared at him over his wine for a moment. “The ticket is still in the lid?”
Chad nodded with a grin. “Uh-huh.”
Hector pulled the silver dome to him and looked inside. “Damn. Who does that? You make the food, cover it then throw away the ticket. Not tape it to the inside,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Chad laughed. “You didn’t really think I’d believe you actually cooked this, did you, Daddy? You were putting a can of spinach on the eye of the stove to warm it up when we met,” he reminded him unable to hold back the chuckles that accompanied his reasoning.
Hector shrugged and sipped his drink. “Yeah, I knew it was going to be a stretch but I went for it anyway. I’m still going to take credit for this delicious feast. I picked it out, warmed it up and put it on the beautiful china courtesy of the New York-New York Hotel,” he expressed with a laughing grin, extending his hand across the table. “I did all the work. They just cooked it.”
“And you did a wonderful job. Presentation is a big part of the meal, too. Everything looks fabulous.” Chad patted his hand.
Hector gave him a raised brow look and they laughed again. “Well now that we are in agreement, let’s eat.”
A short while later, Chad dropped his fork and finished the last of his wine before sitting back with a satisfied sigh.
“That was great. You really made a marvelous choice.”
“You are too kind,” Hector said with a slight bow of his head. “I thank you, my love. Now it is time for dessert!” he announced, jumping to his feet.
Hector quickly gathered the dishes dumping them into the sink then returned from the kitchen with a smaller plate covered by a wide, black napkin.
“Did you get the dessert from Perfect Italiano, too?” Chad asked, excitement filling his voice.
“Nope. Some place totally different.”
“Really? Where?”
“This one is all me. Open it.” He leaned forward offering the tray to him with both hands.
Chad raised an eyebrow before leaning forward lifting the cloth dramatically from the lid. A small gasp left his lips as he dropped the top on the floor.

Until next time,
Jaxx Steele has left the building!


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Available now in all formats at Muse it Hot

Monday, February 20, 2012

Love is like a Dozen Donuts?

Hello! Nice to be here on Guys Like Romance Too blog. *makes self comfortable* So today, I’m supposed to talk about why I wrote the story, Time to Make the Donuts and why I consider it a Valentine’s Day story even there there’s no mention of Valentine’s day.

Well I think of it like this, the title of my blog post is Life is Like  Dozen Donuts instead of the famous line from Forrest Gump, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” To me, love is like a dozen donuts we get from the shop, we can pick and choose from many flavors. Some may be sweet, some not so much and even when you pick one you’re not satisfied with don’t you go back and try another kind?  You might be a fan of a chocolate cake over glazed or powdered. Still, it seems you’ll go back and get another even though you’re not happy with your first choice.

Here’s a funny for you, I’m not the biggest fan of donuts but I do love to write romance. Since this is February, the month of love, my character, Christopher is seeking that partner. He’s been through several “bad donuts” and he sees one of the honey color variety walk into his shop. This is also book 2 of the Something New on the Menu Series. Why not write a book with love and something almost everyone likes?

During this month, we associate sweets like candy, cakes, etc with Valentine’s Day. Why not donuts? I’m sure there are some bakers who make heart shaped ones for the occasion.



There you go! See now the plot bunnies are screaming for me to give Christopher and his honey, Andre another short story, maybe I will, just for them.

So, what have we discussed today? How love is a wonderful thing, even more so in February and for us romance writers, we try our best to come up with a unique story for all readers to enjoy. I think I did. An interracial m/m romance involving something almost everyone loves.

Love is like a dozen donuts! You keep searching and trying them till you find one you like the most.

Blurb: Andre, a customer, comes in and pays him a visit. The two lock eyes and immediately connect on a personal level. Because of this, Christopher decides to pursue when Andre passes him his card. He wonders what the young man does for a living however, he’s so smitten by him, Chris doesn’t give it much thought.

Little does the shop owner know, Andre actually works for his biggest competitor as a secret shopper and has been told to use any method necessary to find out the secrets of the shop as well as convince him to sell his shop and become part of the national chain.

When Christopher finds out, he has a surprise for Andre and deals with him in a rather humorous way. Will he trust Andre once he finds out this fact? Will he give up his shop under the pressure the well-known franchise?

Excerpt

With the song Manic Monday by the Bangles playing on the overhead, Jesse stood behind the cashier Wanda, getting orders for customers while Christopher finished putting the third batch of donuts in the oven. The owner always felt better when the store officially opened for business making him forget about the lack of sleep he got from the night prior or the fact he’d been in the restaurant since two a.m.
He pushed the double doors open as he came from the kitchen, watching the customers lining up in front of the register. They were ready to give their morning rush orders of coffee and donuts or bagels. Others who had time sat at the long laminate counter waiting for one of the waitresses to take their requests. Bigger groups of people or those who liked to take in the atmosphere sat in booths to sample the diner’s finest delicacies. Part of the charm of Christopher’s place was it catered to everyone in some form or fashion while offering great service. Something he knew that other place could provide.
While waving at a couple of regulars, Christopher started to help Jesse bag a few orders. Unlike most owners, he always chipped in to help on the front lines regardless if it were busy or not.
Jesse smacked him on the shoulder. “Yo dude, you look like you haven’t sleep in weeks.” The husky redheaded woman poured a cup of coffee for a lady in front of her.
“Well thanks,” he frowned. “I’m still being bombarded by calls from that place to get me to sell. They won’t quit. Don’t they get the message?”
“Apparently not. They been callin’ ya at home?”
“No on the cell and all because that one girl that used to work here got employed by them. They thought by doing that, they’d be able to pick up some secrets or learn something new about me, or the restaurant. Didn’t they know I brainwash my former workers,” he laughed.
“You wish. You just don’t share anything important which is smart, now me on the other hand,” She cocked an eyebrow. “I could be an asset to someone if they swayed me to leave.”
Christopher stopped immediately and glared at her. “You’d never.”
She drew up her lips. Within seconds she guffawed and smacked him on the back pretty hard. “Babe, no, never. I’m just messin’ wicha. I’d never leave your side. I told you the day Jayson died I’d help you run the place till we couldn’t do it anymore and I meant it. You know I’m a rebel at heart. I couldn’t go anywhere and work for “the man” and feel comfortable. I ain’t wearin’ no suit and tie for nobody.”
Christopher choked a little from the slap and let out a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he’d do without Jesse if she left. Good thing she always had such a good sense of humor and because he liked her as his second in command, he vowed never to piss her off if he could help it. Yes, they’d had run-ins a couple of times over various decisions but he knew most of the time the two of them would come to an agreement in the end.
“Well I’m glad about that.” He straightened his tie and shrugged his shoulders. “I need you here, Jess. No bones about that. Most days, I’m not sure what I’d do without your intellect.”
She blushed and chuckled. “Aw, Christopher, I swear if I didn’t like women and you didn’t like men we’d be a match made in heaven, right?”
A woman with a baby in front of them giggled and took her bag.
Christopher sighed, “Jesse, we really need to stop talkin’ about our personal business up here, huh?”
“Yes, duly noted boss man. Sooo…maybe we should go in the back so I can ask you about the dude I hooked you up with last week.” She nodded and turned to him.
“Um, nothin’ really to tell. I’m sorry Jesse, he’s just not what I’m looking for.”
The manager rolled her eyes. “Just what the hell are you searchin’ for in a man, Chris? You gotta lower your standards just a little don’t you? Ain’t no pretty boy with money and a squeaky clean disposition comin’ into your life any time soon.”
“That might be true but, well, he just didn’t do it for me. I liked that he’s self-sufficient, he’s pretty burly which I, erm, well, I’m not into overly muscular men. He doesn’t have to be a model but he does have to be easy on the eyes.” Christopher paused, “Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to talk about my business up here?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh sorry, let’s go in the back a moment then. I gotta hear the rest of this. Wanda, you okay hon, since the rush is about done?”
The younger blond nodded, “Yep, I’ll call ya’ if I need ya.”
“Great.” Jesse gripped Christopher’s shoulder. “To the back then chief to get another batch ready then, huh?”
“Yep. We’ll be back, Wanda.” Christopher went through the doors and Jesse followed him. He really enjoyed when he and Jesse could work and talk at once. Made the day go by a lot faster. If only he had something other than his seemingly desperate romantic situations to converse about.

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Rawiya

RAWIYA is the more sensual erotica writer in the BLRawiya duo. Rawiya's first book, Time to Make the Donuts is available from Naughty Nights Press. She has several shorts in anthologies, the latest, That Thing in the STARbooks collection, Tall Dark and Delicious. A lot of her shorts are also on Every Night Erotica. She blogs regularly at Erotic Dairies and Wicked Sexy Writers. For more please visit the Rawiyas blog on Wordpress.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Has love ever walked in on you?

Private Investigator Bruce Shannon was doing just fine without all that schmaltzy love stuff. Until someone left the door open…


Hi there! My name is Charlie and I’m a newly published author of M/M Historical Romance. I’d like to give a big thank you to Carson for having me, and to everyone stopping by. As February’s theme embraces all things love, I’m here to give you a sneak peek into my Valentine’s Day Sip: When Love Walked In.

Now, this isn’t a story filled with sweeping gestures of undying love (not that there’s anything wrong with that, but that kinda thing would have Bruce hitting the floor and digging his way to China). Nope, this is a sweet little tale about two fellas who find something neither were looking for and had no idea they were in need of.

Blurb:

Bruce Shannon is a Private Investigator dealing with case after case of missing persons and infidelity. None of which inspire warm, fuzzy feelings during the week of Valentine’s Day. Then again, Bruce isn’t exactly a fuzzy feelings kind of guy, which suits him just fine. He doesn’t need anyone anyhow, only his cat, Mittens. That is, until the handsome Jace Scarret wanders off the street and into Bruce’s life.



A little about Bruce and Jace, and why I wrote about them:

I wrote When Love Walked In because I wanted to tell a Valentine’s Day story about two regular Joes who each have something to offer the other, even if they don’t realize it themselves.

Bruce is older than Jace. He’s been around the block a few times and has the scars to prove it. Being a PI, especially during the Great Depression, isn’t exactly doing anything to help restore Bruce’s faith in his fellow man. And love? Well, he’s pretty much given up on that. As far as he’s concerned, he doesn’t need it. In fact, he’s convinced himself he’s better off without it. Besides, he’s got his job, his friend Joe, Joe’s pies, and Mittens-- his black and white cat. What else could he possibly need?

Jace on the other hand doesn’t have any of those things. He’s recently found himself on the streets without so much as a penny to his name, yet despite his harsh circumstances, Jace has never lost hope. He gets by as best he can and is always optimistic that something better will come along. Jace is no stranger to heartache, and that heartache plays a part in where he’s been and where he’s heading.

Bruce is grumpy, a man of few words and fewer expressions. He’s a thinker who likes to keep those thoughts to himself. Anything you get out of the man will either be through rigorous interrogation or mind reading.

Jace is cheerful, tenacious, and frightfully honest. Don’t let that schoolboy charm fool you, Jace isn’t nearly as timid as he seems.



Sneak Peak:

Unaware of Bruce's ogling--thank goodness, Jace set a plate of toast on the table.

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought I could thank you by making you breakfast. I didn't know what you liked, so I made a little bit of everything."

"You made all this?" Bruce asked, dumbfounded. He was pretty sure all he'd had in his refrigerator were a few eggs, a meager block of cheese, and a few strips of bacon.

"Yes. I hope you like it."

Jace poured them each a cup of coffee and joined him at the table. The first bite was enough to make Bruce melt. My god, the man could cook, unlike Bruce who had nearly burnt the place down once attempting to boil an egg.

"Where have you been all my life?" he moaned, enjoying another forkful. He glanced up and nearly choked on his eggs. Whatever reaction he'd expected, it sure wasn't the one he received. Jace was staring down at his plate, his cheeks a bright pink. It occurred to Bruce that there was something he'd like for breakfast far better than eggs. To make matters worse, when Jace met his gaze, it was all too clear the guy was happy to be that something. That couldn't happen. The poor fellow had enough problems without adding the complications of a tumble in the sack. Besides, the last thing he wanted was for Jace to think Bruce expected something from him after all.

Clearing his throat, Bruce turned his attention back to his breakfast. "This is really good. Thanks."

"Oh, uh, sure." There was a hint of disappointment in Jace's voice, but Bruce figured it was for the best. Definitely. Probably...

Can Jace show Bruce that maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so lousy after all? Join them to find out!

(buy links)

If you’d like to know more about me, my writing, or just want to say hi, you can find me my:

Blog   Facebook   Twitter   Good Reads

Thanks!

Charlie Cochet

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Leather + lust = love? You betcha!!

Welcome to the world of New Amsterdam: it's the NYC landscape, Chicago's political machine, and Gotham's darkness. Murder, mayhem, intrigue, and intimacy are the stock in trade on these city streets, and rarely is anything exactly what it seems.

The tale begins with Hearts Under Fire, continues in "The New Deal" and will further unfold in shorts and novels slated for 2012. Join me, Kelly Wyre, and my co-author, H.J. Raine, for a tour of leather, lust, and love.

Our books are available from Torquere Press and on Amazon, and Hearts Under Fire will be available in print later in 2012.

Much love and many thanks!

Kelly Wyre & H.J. Raine

Kelly's Blog

Kelly's Facebook

Raine's Blog

Raine's Facebook










Hearts Under Fire:

Ten years ago, Maxwell you-can-just-call-me Clark thought he would spend his life as a military man. But his world turned into a nightmare when a suicide bomber destroyed Clark's career. It's been a long road to recovery, littered with surgery, alcohol, and secrets, but Clark finally has peace. His bar, Glow, is the place to be in the city of New Amsterdam, the son of the mayor employs Clark as a confidential information man, and Clark’s side venture as part-owner of a BDSM club is quite the profitable release. Clark’s life is a good one, so long as no one gets too close.



Then a man walks into Glow who will forever change Clark’s rules and reality. Thinking Professor Daniel Germain is just another handsome face ripe for Clark’s kind of good time, Clark puts on his smoothest moves. When the professor turns him down, Clark goes on the hunt, and what he discovers shows him that even the deepest wounds can be healed by submitting to love.














"The New Deal" .

It's been a year since Clark and Daniel found one another in Hearts Under Fire, and the bartender and the professor have found harmony. However, Clark's work for Lucian Gray, the New Amsterdam Mayor's son and leader of an underground vigilante network, still continues, and it's not without danger. Clark knows it's only a matter of time before the risks become too great for Daniel to bear, and his prediction comes true when a BDSM scene turns into a captive discussion. Find out what happens when the men must balance life's passion with true love.













COMING FEBRUARY 8TH TO AN ONLINE STORE NEAR YOU:

"Luck in the Making" and "Swing Shift"

Valentine's Day New Amsterdam Tales.








"Luck in the Making"

For Jeffrey Ross, life is all about disaster management and recovery. Even a ride on the subway presents its challenges. Thankfully, though, Jeffrey works for Maxwell Clark, who not only notices difficult struggles and brave deeds, he believes in easing the first by rewarding the second. And this Valentine's Day, Clark's decided that Jeffrey is long overdue for some sweet strokes of manmade good fortune.


















"Swing Shift"

Valentine's Day is just another day in the line of duty for Officer Ed Sorenson: investigate a murder, save a life, file the paperwork. But when Ed has to step out of the closet to help an injured boy and to be a role model for the New Amsterdam Police Department, Ed finds unexpected solace in a man who understands what it takes to keep the city and its citizens safe.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Milady? Yes, but our Lady, too!


 
Blurb:
Think medieval times when honorable men must do what is required of them. Thomas Lancaster, a widower with bad memories of marriage and a young son he barely knows, is a hardened knight loyal to his king. In reward for his efforts fighting in the Crusades, King Edward gives him Middlemound Castle to hold for the crown. But he must marry the beautiful young widow of the castle's previous lord.

Lady Gloriana Stewart suffered brutally in her first marriage and has no desire to marry again. She has no choice and must protect her people and obey her king. All she wants is for her new husband to give her a baby. Thomas refuses to even consider it. Complicating the situation is Sir Rowan Montgomery, Thomas's first knight, friend, and lover. Complicating the problem even more, Gloriana has feelings for both her new husband and for Rowan.


Excerpt:
Thomas stood next to River Ure while his horse lapped water beside him. He looked out over the valley leading to Middlemound Castle. A faint breeze swept over him carrying the scents of sweet clover from the patches bursting with flowers nearby. Along with it, he drew in the heavy smells of sweat. His own and that of Rowan, who stood quietly a few feet away. He imagined all of his men—including his new men—smelled equally as unpleasant after these last long days of travelling.

“I suppose we should all bathe in the river before we head toward Middlemound.” He said the words without hazarding a look at his first knight. He dared not think about the roughly handsome man being naked anywhere near him as long as his other men were nearby. Even the mere thought of Rowan in all his hard-muscled glory, naked, had Thomas’s cock showing interest.

Understanding the problem, Rowan said, “Aye, I’m sure everyone there would appreciate not smelling the stink of our many days on the road.” He turned to head back to where they’d camped last night. “I’ll pass the word.” He hesitated before walking away. “I’ll go into the river farther upstream.”

As he heard his friend move off, Thomas felt the strain of arousal slip away as well. He and Rowan had discovered an appreciation for one another quite by accident almost half a year back. An appreciation that had quickly led to some of the hottest sex he could ever remember experiencing. At first Thomas had been shocked, not sickened or appalled, just surprised. He’d always loved being with women, quite lusted after them actually. He had a hearty appetite for sex and he’d never had any complaints from his more-than-willing bed partners. Yet he’d never been drawn toward a man before that time with Rowan. He still wasn’t drawn toward other men. Only Rowan fired up his need to make love to a man.


Any kind of romantic relationship can be tricky. Creating a story that combines two people with unique personalities, histories, preferences, and different views on life is complicated. Adding a third person to the mix makes it even more complicated. Then adding to that the historical elements from another time period and it can be a writer’s nightmare…or great pleasure. I very much enjoyed dealing with all of this while writing Their Lady Gloriana.

In writing a ménage a trois story, the author must carefully weave together the facets of interaction of three complex characters. The reader must be convinced to care about each of the characters and that each of the characters, in turn, cares about one another.

The following are excerpts showing how I set up each of the three main characters’ backgrounds, their mindset prior to the forming of the ménage relationship.

(Lady Gloriana’s life changing moment)
“Lord Middlemound will not be returning, my lady. He died over a month ago in the battles.” Relief filled her instead of sadness. But that was wrong. She would beg forgiveness for such an awful sin in her prayers later. Gerald caught her attention once more and said with clear unhappiness, “King Edward has decreed that you will marry Lord Montrose upon his arrival at Middlemound. He is travelling here with his men and with Lord Middlemound’s men.”

(Thomas, Lord Montrose’s life changing moment)
It still surprised him that Edward had commanded he marry Geoffrey Stewart’s widow. He’d met Stewart on more than one occasion at court and disliked him. He’d distrusted the man even more on the battlefields in Tunis. His death did not bother Thomas at all. But being ordered to wed the man’s young widow did. … He and Lady Middlemound need only be agreeable in bed together to please him. He would not seek out relief from maids or find a mistress. … Although he’d tried to convince his first to take over Montrose castle from him, Rowan refused. He’d also refused to accept a holding of his own offered to him by Edward. Rowan wanted only to become Thomas’s first in command at Middlemound. He didn’t want to leave Thomas. While Thomas was certain there could be problems ahead, he was grateful for the man’s loyalty both as a soldier and as a lover. For if Gloriana Stewart couldn’t fully satisfy his hungers in bed, at least Rowan could.

(Rowan, Sir Rowan’s life changing moment)
He wasn’t sure what he wanted, other than to stay here for a while. He’d been on his own longer than Thomas. As the bastard son of the Duke of Remington, he’d been a thorn in the powerful duke’s side. He’d been acknowledged but never accepted by the duke’s wife or his family with her. So he’d left where he’d been fostered at eight by his father and found another castle and lord to take him on. The lord had been hard on him, but he’d learned much and had become the seasoned warrior he was because of him. He’d drifted around from battle to battle, from castle to castle. He’d been a favored warrior by Edward for several years and more so after he and Thomas had joined together, fighting side by side. Being with Thomas was as close to settling down as he’d ever come. He wasn’t ready to give up their friendship.

Their Lady Gloriana involved not only the intricate drawing together of these three individuals into a ménage relationship, but also the continuation of a male/male relationship that had developed first. This was not a story only about a woman having sex with two hardened medieval warriors. And it is not a story about the intense sex between the two men. It is a story about three people learning to trust each other, finding peace with one another in a dark and difficult time.


 Starla Kaye


Friday, February 10, 2012

What's your idea of romance?

Ah, February…and Valentine’s Day. Chilly nights, warm fireplaces, two bodies pressed close together—the month is ripe for romance.
And if your idea of romance includes leather, submission, domination, restraints, and perhaps the electric shock of a whip applied to one’s skin, my story Fugue, published by Amber Allure, may be just the kind of twisted love story you seek.

I don’t write much BDSM, but this story called to me. I wanted to play with two ideas: one, the shifting of power in dominant/submissive relationships (dominance does not always equal power) and two, the idea that sex is never centered between the legs, but between the ears.




Who is the master and who is the slave?

In Rick R. Reed’s tortuously sexy short story, you might not always know. Fugue takes the brave reader into the dungeon playroom of a master and his boy. It’s the kind of place where “darkness skitters into corners, hiding in shadows where the walls disappear.” A boy is chained to the pipes along the ceiling. Hooded, he can only experience the sensations his master delivers with his whips, fingers, tongue...

But in the boy’s mind, a dream state takes him places even the master could not imagine...places where the established pecking order is turned upside down. As he’s being deliciously whipped, tantalized, and tortured, the boy takes a mental journey on a late-night train where his adventures are even more raw and erotic than what goes on in this very dungeon.

Come along for the Fugue...and answer for yourself the question: who is the master and who is the slave?

Excerpt

...Shackles embrace my ankles, keeping me anchored to the cool, damp floor. This sense of immobility ratchets up the tension and anticipation, and these feelings war within me, causing tingles throughout my body in much the same way as the restraints holding me in place do. I ache for something to happen, yet know I am powerless to bring anything about. Patience is a virtue I have learned, honed in its tutelage now for several years.

Ever since I met my master. That man of mine. The one I love. The seer and deliverer of pain, of pleasure, of love…and discipline.

Waiting. Anticipation pulses like a drug, pounding and surging through my body, binding me more thoroughly than these cuffs, chains and shackles. The air against my naked body is especially cool, its dampness almost like a second presence, like an icy caress. Part of the chill comes from the fact that I am bereft of hair; earlier, he shaved me clean, right down to the hair that sprouts between the cheeks of my ass. He has clamped my nipples, and the bite of the steel hurts and, at the same time, keeps me in a constant state of arousal. My balls hurt as well; he has pulled them low with metal cuffs that twist around the top of the sac, gripping and tugging….a constant, dull ache.

This is true love.

Yet all this dull sensation of pain is but a prelude to the full symphony of hurt that’s on its way. I keep my eyes shut tightly; a lazy smile moves across my lips, disappears.

Waiting. Anticipating. Almost overriding the pedestrian ache of my constraints is the roaring of my blood in my ears, the pounding of my heart, the quickening of my breath, all of these racing with each little noise I hear. My mouth is dry with want, with need. I almost ache to shout out into the murky light: “Hurry! Hurry! I almost can’t bear you making me wait like this. The anticipation is too much. It’s torture even I don’t want. Hurry!”

But I don’t dare. I keep my own counsel and stay mute. A good slave knows his place, knows when to groan, when to scream, when to whimper, and when to sigh. And now, in this waiting, is not the time.

Behind me, my master busies himself, arranging lashes on a table: cat o’ nine tails, bullwhip, riding crop, and even a wooden paddle with holes drilled in its smooth oak surface that transports me back to junior high school. I remember being in seventh grade detention, the paddle whistling through the air, singing through those holes as the gym teacher, Mr. Wright, brought it down hard on my adolescent ass, not knowing that the pain he was delivering was also filling me with the most delicious pleasure, or that my dick was hard and dripping in my jeans. Had he known, would he have continued?

Would it have been a kind of pleasure for him, too? Thinking about such a prospect makes my dick hard even now.

My master comes up to stand behind me, firm touch of his hand on my chest, then moving away. His hands are warm and strong. I am his.

I smell the leather: deep, musky, manscent.

Leather aroma deepens as he pulls my head back and I close my eyes. Leather fills my senses until it’s all that exists. My master slides the hood over my face, obliterating this dusky space where we will be together, making me his and his alone.

Darkness...

Available at Amber Allure:  For KindleFor Nook:



Note: “Fugue” also appears as part of my print paperback collection, ON THE EDGE, which is available here:

Contact Rick R. Reed



Wednesday, February 8, 2012

And then there were 3!

Hello, everyone!

My name is Tia Fielding, I’m an M/M-romance author and I’m here to pimp out my menage-novel, By Any Other Name, and its free Holiday-story The Great Escape. Yes, I understand it’s well beyond the Holiday season now, but hey, it’s free and sexy and fun! I will have to say that you should probably read By Any Other Name first, though, just to not spoil things for yourself.

By Any Other Name isn’t a new book, it was published in late August of 2011, but since there was a ménage-theme in here… Yeah, I’m going to ramble to you a little bit, but it won’t be about BAON, it will be about ménage-stories in general.

Now, when I had the idea for BAON, it was always going to be a ménage-story. There were three clear main characters bouncing about in my head and all of them wanted their voices heard. The story wasn’t your typical M/M/M-story, and how the ménage came to be wasn’t quite the usual story either. In fact BAON was the result of wanting to tell a story about abuse, friendship and belonging, but also make it a ménage-story without the usual rampant sexual content most M/M/M-books seem to have. Oh, there is sex in BAON, but I think the way I executed the smexin’ was different and fit the story just fine.

So when I finished writing another book (M/M, vampires) recently and got another idea for an M/M-novel, I pretty much thought it was going to be quite straightforward from there on. Wrong. SO WRONG.

As I was making my initial plans for the novel, sort of sending mental feelers to the boys in my head, I got a huge surprise. There weren’t just two guys in there in the story, instead there were three. Suddenly my easy M/M had turned into a very complicated M/M/M.

Now this future book of mine, if it ever sees the light of day, will be a love story between three very different people. In fact, when I began to ponder about really writing this particular ménage, I came to the conclusion that it might just be what I need after writing so many M/M-stories since By Any Other Name.

Sometimes it’s simple, other times not. This just goes to prove that us writers, we don’t really have as much control over our characters and stories as we’d like to think. But that’s half of the fun, isn’t it? Here a peek at By Any Other Name



Dru and Thom have been together for three years, and despite Thom’s occasional bouts of insecurity and Dru’s fear of rejection, their relationship is rock solid. Then Dru’s long-lost friend, Skye, suddenly reappears, shocking them both. Skye suffered years of inconceivable abuse before escaping it, and while he’s back on track, he has nowhere else to go as he begins to rebuild his life.

Dru, Thom, and Skye each want to belong somewhere, to belong with someone—or someones—with no fear of being hurt, set aside, or left behind. It’s a challenge with daunting odds, especially for Skye, who’s never loved before. He’s determined not to come between his two friends who so clearly belong together, and it will be up to Dru and Thom to conquer their fears and convince Skye to stay.




Excerpt from Chapter 3 - Skye

Funny thing, how life turned out. He had never really thought about the whole cycle of things, but it was there. He had left Rowan Falls and Dru, and now he was going back to some fifty miles from Rowan Falls and to Dru. He hadn’t been sure about going back at all. Hell, who knew what Dru would think about him and how he had just vanished? Maybe he had been torn and hated Skye for leaving like that? Maybe he had felt betrayed?

The train of thought led Skye to berate himself; who knew if Dru even cared after the initial disappointment? Or maybe he had been happy to get rid of the poor kid who always hung around him? Why would he do this, except out of charity? He wouldn’t, not when he had a new life and all. Skye had gone online too, to do some research of his own on Doctor Al’s computer. Dru had a business that seemed to be doing well, or so Al had said after gathering information online. He also had a boyfriend. Or a partner—that was probably the right word for what that Thomas person was. Not only would Skye be living with Dru but with this Thomas, whom he had never met. The thought made his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat.

“Skye, you ready?” one of the nurses, Tim, asked from the doorway of Skye’s room.

“Yeah, I am,” Skye said, clearing his throat as he glanced around and grabbed his duffle bag from the bed.

“They want you in the cafeteria.” Tim grinned, and Skye rolled his eyes. Whenever someone was released from Haven because they were doing well and going home or wherever, there was a little party. The other nutjobs would say nice things about the one leaving, and there would be cake. No balloons, though, not after Mr. Skittles had gone nuts and run into a wall the year before, when Melinda was released. Damn, that man was crazy—and apparently had a fear of balloons. Reminded him of clowns. Coulrophobia was something not to laugh at. Even the thought of that made Skye snort.

When Tim looked at him inquisitively, he mouthed “clowns” and made the nurse chuckle too. They had had this conversation before. It wasn’t clowns or balloons Skye was afraid of. His fears had to do with darkness, basements, small spaces, being confined, and anything overly religious in the Christian way. It made him want to puke, run, and faint in no particular order.

Tia Fielding –

Website:  Goodreads: Facebook: Twitter: @tiafielding

By Any Other Name can be found here:

Amazon (kindle):  Dreamspinners Press (ebook):  Dreamspinners Press (paperback):

The Great Escape – You can get a free copy from Goodreads.  An additional download-link in the description.