I recently had the wonderful pleasure of interviewing the diverse writer, Adrianne Brennan, fellow author releasing at loveyoudivine Alterotica…

Jon:  Adrianne, I must say, I’ve seen your name here and there but have not yet gotten to know you.  Since releasing your latest, Dawn Of The Seraphs, with loveyoudivine, I’ve become intrigued.  Can you tell me how you came to release with loveyoudivine?

Adrianne: Nix (Winter) was my corrupter–I mean, invitation–to join. Through Nix I found out about the Immortal Fire anthology and was encouraged to submit. I’m in another anthology due out in February for f/f and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to jump into the wide, wonderful genre of m/m! Since I have a prequel idea for the Dark Moon series in m/m, this I thought would be a great way to break into the genre before that book comes out.

Jon:  Dawn Of The Seraphs sounds incredible!  Congratulations on your release.  The plot sounds like a tremendous undertaking, a foray into sci-fi/fantasy, erotic paranormal lust!  Can you tell us more about this awesome novel?

Adrianne: It’s about two men who are incredibly different, personality-wise, from each other–but have amazing chemistry that they just have no control over. Both are very talented, brilliant Seraphs–powerful psions, if you will–and are mutually drawn into a world of subterfuge and intrigue through working on a behind the scenes assignment in ANGEL, an organization of Seraphs devoted to their kind.  The two men are forced to work together in spite of the fact that the friction between them makes it nearly impossible.

But together they make an amazing partnership, and I look forward to writing more about them.

Jon:  Where did you get your inspiration for Dawn Of The Seraphs?  Is there more to come between Tamar and Kir?

Adrianne: I got my inspiration from some of my favorite science fiction shows plus bits and pieces of my favorite fandom male pairing. So many people have different chemistry together, and there’s that sort of chemistry where you bicker and argue before you each cave in and realize there’s a powerful attraction there. And oh yes, you better believe there’ll be more! I plan on a sequel for this, so stay tuned!

Jon:  It appears you’ve been writing for a long time.  And indeed, your writing has achieved wonderful praise, accolades and awards.  Can you share which are you most proud of?

Adrianne: Thanks Jon! Writing is my passion, my fuel, my oxygen. I’m thrilled to be here and never in my wildest dreams imagined that I’d wind up getting so many readers, let alone awards.  I don’t know if there’s a single one I’m most proud of, to be honest. I’m more proud that I got any at all. Sometimes being here is a little surreal, and I remain thankful.

If anything, I enjoy hearing readers’ feedback. They’re the ones I enjoy hearing from and make the most impression to me in regards to how my writing is being received. I receive Google alerts for my name on a regular basis, and one day got a notification that my book, Blood of the Dark Moon, was listed on someone’s profile on a message board. The reason why was because they had listed it as their favorite novel. That to me was worth more than all of the awards, the “Best Ever”s, and reviews I could’ve possibly have received and achieved. It made my day, week–no, month!

Jon:  (You knew I was going to ask this question…)  I’m often confounded by the attitudes by some that female authors cannot write a good m/m erotic romance.  I don’t agree, as I’ve read some pretty sizzling titles by authors like Anastasia Rabiyah, Carol McKenzie, Patricia Oshier Bruening, Nix Winter, Lady Midnight and Dawne Domique, to name a few… Have you ever faced such stigma writing gay m/m erotica?

Adrianne: I’ve yet to receive it directly but have noticed it from others. I see where some are coming from, as I’ve read a lot of m/m fanfic written by women which makes me utterly *cringe* with how they write a m/m pairing. But on the other hand I don’t think it’s so much women writing about men as much as writing skills in general. If direct experience was required to write, many of us wouldn’t be able to. After all, I write about vampires and demons, and I’m certainly neither a vampire nor a demon! *grin*

Jon:  Okay,  here’s a fun question:  If you could be any one of your characters for just a day, who would it be and why?

Adrianne: I’ve been asked this before and to be honest, I’d never want to be one of my characters–some of them go through absolute hell, lol! But I will say that there are moments in their lives which I’d love to have the chance to experience. Amanda’s first kiss with Jesse in Blood of the Dark Moon, Merideth’s date with Kalia in Blood and Mint Chocolates, Lila’s first encounter with Asmodion in book 3 of the Oath series, and for Dawn of the Seraphs, being Tamar for a day would be *damned* interesting–especially given some of his abilities!

Jon:  Closing out, I understand you have the distinct pleasure of interviewing author, Melissa El  Hajjar.  I’m so jealous because I’ve just ordered her novel, Bane Of Exhistence.  Are you as excited as I am?!!!

Adrianne: This is the first I’ve heard of it–LOL! But I relish the opportunity. I love hearing from other authors who are passionate about their craft. You can always tell who is, and it’s delightful.

Dawn of The Seraphs is also included in loveyoudivine’s awesome anthology, Immortal Fire, from His & His Kisses line.

Newsflash - Dawn of the Seraphs, a m/m scifi/paranormal erotic romance in the Immortal Fire anthology, is up for Love Romance Cafe’s Best Scifi/Futuristic Book 2009!!!

To purchase Dawn of The Seraphs:

http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=6_69&products_id=569

To puprchase The Immortal Fire anthology:

http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=30_51&products_id=601

In Memorium - Celebrating the life and writing of author, Carol Mckenzie

Author (and friend) Carol McKenzie

The Staff of loveyoudivine Alterotica would like to invite you to join us on November 14th for a Requiem Chat in Carol’s honor.  Between 12 Noon and 8 PM EST, we’ll be posting her excerpts on our loveyoudivine Yahoo group and give away a copies of her print volumes, The Ex Factor, Cowboys and MEN: From His and His Kisses.

Featured below is an excerpt of one of Carol McKenzie’s last m/m stories 

On a more personal note, I wish everyone who reads this a very merry holiday season and a fantastic 2009. You take care. Carol

Ebook ISBN / Price: 978-1-60054-283-1

Length: 56 pages / 14,400 word count
Genre: M/M
Category: His and His Kisses
Rating: Shooting Star
Price: 3.75
Buy link: http://…com/4u2yz8
Video Trailer: http://…com/59anuw

About
Cowboys’ Christmas

It’s December and it’s cold. Blake’s back aches from busting broncs and he wants to settle down, maybe do some ranching. Blake loves his sister, who doesn’t know he’s gay. But he loves Riley, too. If he breaks the news, will his sister accept Riley into the family?

Thirty-year-old Blake finishes his obligations on the rodeo circuit for the year. It’s December and it’s cold. He calls his sister, Katy, in Rufus, Oregon, and tells her that he is getting too old to bust broncos. His back and bones ache. He mentions he may come home for Christmas. Katy ís delighted because she needs help with the Kinglsley Ranch; it’s falling apart, and her boyfriend is too much a tenderfoot to help.
Blake can’t wait to meet up with his “friend” in their usual camping area. Katy doesn’t know about his flame, Riley S. Campbell. What will she say or think when she finds he’s taken Riley, a man, as his lover? Will Riley’s family accept Blake?

Blake Kingsley pulled his truck and fifth wheel into a vacant island of Huck’s Gas Mart in downtown Longview, Washington, and stopped the engine. He climbed out and put his gray Stetson on his head. Heavy, cold rain beat down on the overhang and the air smelled of gasoline. He lifted the nozzle, pressed the mid-grade button and pumped forty dollars worth of gas into his tank, mumbling his displeasure the whole time. When he finished, he put handle back and ambled toward the pay station, the soles of his boots smacking in puddles.

“I’ll spring for the turkey, if I was to come,” Blake said and placed his Stetson on the passenger seat.

“So, how are you doin’ otherwise, little brother?’”

“It’s best you not ask, ’cause right now, I’m in a piss poor mood.”

“Why’s that?”

“These friggin’ gas prices suck. They’re high as hell. It costs too much drivin’ the circuit anymore. I’m twenty-eight and gettin’ too old for bustin’ broncs.”

“Get a different job, then. Stay home, settle down. Maybe get a job as, I dunno, be a cop.”

“I’ve done ruint my back.”

“Maybe it’s time to quit.”

“I’ve got to think about it. See you.”

“Tell your buddy hi. Oh, and call when you get close.”

“Will do.”

It’s always nice when a fellow author blogs about my books.  Author Jaime Samms blogs about what’s on her mind, and more…check it o out here!

http://dontkickmycane.livejournal.com/134336.html

Also, to find out more about author Jaime Samms, check out her website at:

http://www.jaime-samms.net/

Breathless

Breathless

Portrait of an Artist

 The painting was literally like nothing painted on Earth. But can the mystery behind it really save Peter’s relationship?

A hustler living in a run-down apartment gets a visit from a former lover. Todd’s old flame is now a hired gun for the local mob boss. When Nico reappears at his door, Todd has high hopes that he has come back to renew their relationship which ended when Nico became a hit man. But Nico makes it clear that he didn’t return to rekindle the flame that burned so hot when they were lovers. He’s been hired to execute Todd. In horror, Todd realizes there may be no escape for him but he convinces Nico into one last night of the unbridled revelry that they once knew. Nico agrees, but will he allow Todd to escape? Or will he carry out his mob boss’s orders?

* * * *

A cool breeze wafted through the open window, alleviating the stuffiness of my efficiency apartment. It was warmer than usual for this time of year, so it was a treat to have such beautiful weather. I ventured to open the window a little more, ignoring the din of the city, and allowing more air to circulate, since I had no air conditioning. I laid back on my bed and tried to get in a comfortable position to fall asleep.

A knock at the door brought me back from the edges of drowsiness.

I walked to the door in my shorts and peered through the peephole. I could see a tall figure in the dim hallway outside but he kept his face lowered, hidden from me and anyone else who might be watching.

I was used to this attempt at anonymity so I was not alarmed as I opened the door. When I recognized him, I sucked in my breath with an audible gasp and my heart leapt in my chest.
“Nico?” My voice was just above a whisper in surprise and desire.

“Hey, babe,” he replied with a smile. He remembered the pet name that he had for me.

I hadn’t seen my former lover in six long years, but he looked the same, as if time had not passed for him. We had been inseparable for a year and half before that. Back then, Nico had been voracious, insatiable and uninhibited. He was also generous. I attended school at that time and he had just been hired by Big Johnny, the mob overlord in this part of the city. I knew that Nico was in training to be a hired gun, and those elements of danger and devil-may-care attitude attracted me to him.

Nico set me up in an apartment (much nicer than this one) near school and near him. He came to me every night and we would indulge in carnal pleasures of the flesh until we were exhausted, sweating and panting.
Then he began to distance himself from me. The change was subtle at first, so I didn’t suspect anything was wrong. He pimped me out a few times and I went along with it because I thought it would please him. In retrospect, it was only to keep me from noticing he was absent.

Before long, he stopped coming to see me altogether. I couldn’t find him and he never tried to contact me. I knew he was getting pressure from Big Johnny to leave me. I overheard his part of phone conversations, and Nico talked in his sleep, giving me enough clues to realize what was going on. And pillow talk can loosen even the most secretive of tongues.

Inconsolable for weeks, I often contemplated suicide. I lost the plush apartment, since Nico stopped paying for it, and had to settle for this run-down hell-hole, where I have been for over five years.

In my depression, I almost didn’t graduate, but passed with barely acceptable grades. After that I could not hold steady work because I couldn’t concentrate nor did I have any will power to move on. Finally, I took to the streets hustling. It’s an ugly dangerous job but for it’s all that I could do.

That’s been my life ever since he left, and now he stood at my door. Those six years were swept from my memory in an instant.

Buy link:

http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=6_48&products_id=343

Author Nix Winter offers us a sneak-peek into the world of Cain & Shelly with this week’s special guest blog!

Side bit to Cain and Shelly
by Nix Winter
copyright 2008
all rights reserved

Excerpt

Sunlight filtered through the lace, mottling over Shelly’s hair, over the white shirt he wore.  The door to his room closed, but his response was just the slightest move of slender fingers, under soft and layered lace.  Well-tailored black slacks concealed and informed the firm lines of his body. It was late morning. Anyone of real status would be asleep still. The servants were focused on preparing for the evening’s party.

“Shelly.”

“Oliver,” Shelly replied, smiling over his shoulder, blond waves framing his face. “I was hoping you’d arrive early.”

Oliver grinned, short dark hair neat around his face, side burns neatly trimmed.  Black slacks, white tuxedo shirt, he twirled a long stemmed rose in one hand. Dark eyes glittered wickedly. “I brought rose wine.”

Shelly let his shirt slip from one shoulder, revealing strong and well built body, healthy and pale. “Are you saying you need to get drunk to want me?”

Oliver turned the key in the lock and pulled it out. Very familiar with his lover’s room, he set both the key and the wine on the floor at the foot of Shelly’s bed. “The only thing I need to desire you is breath.”

Shelly took a step back from the window, as much as he loved the sunshine, he wanted just a touch more privacy with his lover. Oliver traced his fingers slowly down Shelly’s bare shoulder, leaving goosebumps. “I want you, Shelly.” 

“How badly do you want me,” Shelly asked, turning, letting his shirt slip from both shoulders and down, soft cotton and lace caressing over sensitive skin as it fell. “How badly do you want me?”

Oliver licked his lips, trembling fingers, pushing Shelly’s shirt the rest of the way free. Fingers traced slowly back up Shelly’s arms, shivering so lightly, their eyes locked, searching each other’s soul, until his strong hands grabbed hold. Pulling his lover to him, Oliver joined them, lips caressing lips, diving deep into forbidden intimacy with his love. Shelly melted open, pressing up, drinking his love down as if this might be the only moment they might have.

The world around them was decadent, gilt, but tainted with the end of Mr. Lincoln’s War.  What promises forbidden love could give came to little more than what kisses held the moment. Oliver growled into the kiss, his tongue caressing Shelly’s tongue, cherishing him. His kiss moved to Shelly’s throat, kissing down towards his shoulder.

“Today. I want… today.” Shelly’s voice was breathy, light. One slender leg hooked around Oliver’s, pulling him closer, groin to groin.

“Are you sure?” Oliver whispered, kisses low enough to be warm and wet against Shelly’s nipple. “I’m happy with your mouth.”

“More,” Shelly moaned, hands working under Oliver’s shirt. “Now. I want it now.”

“Wicked boy,” Oliver growled, hands undoing the buttons of Shelly’s pants. “I love you, Shelly. I really love you. We’ll go together, to San Francisco, so far away. We’ll live together.”

“Together,” Shelly promised, a hand sliding over the front of Oliver’s pants. “You do want me.” 

“Of course I want you,” Oliver said, hands now cupping Shelly’s bare ass cheeks, lifting him up. His own pants fell, letting him step easily free of them so he could carry Shelly to the bed. “I’m nervous too, you know. It’s not like I’ve ever, before, you know.”

“Touch me,” Shelly begged, scooting back on the bed, knees bent. “Just touch me. We don’t have do anything you’re not ready for.”

They’d studied together for years, come of age together. Both had reached their majorities with in months of each other. First love, only love, deepest secret, and Shelly tipped his head, chin to his chest, soft rosy lips flush full of life. 

“You are so beautiful,” Oliver whispered. “At night, in my room, I close my eyes and think of you, only you.”

“Do you think of touching me,” Shelly asked, long slender fingers reaching between his legs to touch the soft rosy pucker, so private and intimate, “Here.”

“Yes,” Oliver said, blush darkening his cheeks. “Right there.” His fingers were thick, the fingers of an engineer, a builder from a proud bloodline. Shaking, a finger circled slowly around the offered entrance. “Oil?”

“I knew you were coming,” Shelly said, his blush making his eyes bluer, his hair seem fairer, “I got some. It’s in the crock, just under the bed.”

“You think of everything,” Oliver said, appreciatively. “It’s only one of the reasons I love you.”

“We’re really going to be together forever,” Shelly asked, holding his knees, watching as Oliver’s slick finger trailed slowly along Shelly’s groan, back towards the sweet secret rose.

“Forever, Shelly. Whatever we have to do, that’s what we’ll do. I’ll never be parted from you,” Oliver said, pressing his finger forward into the heated sheath, opening the tender virgin ring. “Always.”

“Always,” Shelly agreed, inching forward a little, taking Oliver’s finger deeper. “It’s good. I like it. It’s so wicked, so good. Everything feels so vividly.”

“Artist boy,” Oliver teased, smiling. “I’m not sure it’s really big enough for my cock.”

“Finger worked fine. Let’s try.”

“Wine. First. I went to a lot of trouble to get it, you know.”

“Okay,” Shelly agreed, sitting up.

Oliver backed away a little, rising and peeling off his shirt.  “Definitely wine. What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t hurt me. Do you want to? I mean, you don’t have to.”

“Are you kidding,” Oliver said, pulling the cork from his bottle of wine. The scent of roses filled the room, wafting slowly, creating an aura of otherworldliness. “Of course, I want to be inside you. Isn’t that what all men want? To be inside the one they love.”

“I’m a man, just fine, but what I want is you in me. Does that make me less of a man?”

“No,” Oliver hastily rejected. “You are a brilliant man, poetic, artistic, mouthy, and everything I have ever wanted.”

Oliver crawled up over the bed, bringing the bottle of wine with him. “You are the flower of all that I could desire. Does that make me less of a man? That I shiver and cry out for you in my bed? That my cum spills as I think of my hands in your hair?”

“Who is to say what a man is,” Shelly said, coming back up from where he’d reached for the oil, hand slick and dripping.  “I want to drink… you.”

Shelly took the bottle with one hand and the other hand took hold of Oliver’s cock, stroking oil over the thick length.

“You really want me to do it?”

“Yeah,” Shelly said, smiling so brightly his eyes closed for just a moment. “I do. We’ll be one person.”

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed, voice low, in awe. “Till death do us part” he whispered, invoking powerful ritual magic.

“Yeah,” Shelly agreed, stroking his lover’s hardness. Trembling in fear and desire, he scooted closer, refusing to back down. “Now, take me now.”

“Have you been reading those ladies novels again?”

“Maybe,” Shelly said, all blush and shifting eyes.

“Lay back,” Oliver said, taking another long drink of the wine. “I want to look at you, my virgin husband. Do you think we’ll burn in Hell?”

“How could that be,” Shelly said, “We’re built for this too, aren’t we? When you touch me everything that’s good comes out in me.”

“Angel, my angel,” Oliver swore, laying himself over Shelly, just low enough that he’d find his way into his love. “You will tell me if it hurts?”

“How could it hurt? I’m waiting for you, longing or you,” Shelly said, legs open.

Oliver’s hands sought out Shelly’s fingers lacing together.  Hearts beating hard, heard enough that Shelly was sure he could feel the pounding of Oliver’s against his chest. “Is this like in the books?”

Shelly groaned, legs reaching to wrap around Oliver. “Do it like us.”

“Crazy bastard,” Oliver whimpered,  a hand slipping between them to encircle Shelly’s passion, stroking, slow, knowing well the needs of his lover. The head of Oliver’s cock pressed eagerly to a now slick virgin entrance. Heat and love, need that pulled through his belly, need so powerful that mingled with wine and drove him forward. The first joining push spread Shelly’s relaxed and willing entrance, testing the boundaries of fear and acceptance. “You’re magic.”

“Oh god,” Shelly whimpered, the thick shaft of his lover opening him, filling him with more sensation than he could have imagined. So sensitive, feeling every movement, the heat and hardness, he panted, sweat breaking out over his forehead. “More, take me all the way so it can never be taken away.”

Oliver froze. “You’re pale! Does it hurt?”

“Deeper! All the way!”

“Oh hell,” Oliver growled, thrusting deeper, his cock slicked with oil and secreted into the body of his love, the keeper of his heart, he could hardly think, “All the way, Cumming!”

The deepest point brought a flash of pleasure in Shelly, white light behind his eyes as some part of his body was touched that he’d never knew could exist. To him it wasn’t a prostate, but love, passion, a promise of forever.  “Yes,” he cried out, arms going around Oliver, clutching him tight. “Do it again!”

Not releasing crossed Oliver’s eyes with strain, but he held back, balls tight, and he drew back just a little, then forward again, shaking in Shelly’s embrace. “What? Are you okay?”

“Good, good, feels good, do it again!” Shelly cried out, louder than a secret lover should be even in his own family home.”

“I’m cumming,” Oliver begged, apologized, weak in Shelly’s arms as he tried to stroke his lover’s pleasure, tried to hold off and failed, his passion boiling out of him, spilling decadent proof of their love into Shelly’s body. “Shelly!”

Shelly’s body jumped to its peak as well, spilling liquid heat between them.  Oliver’s hand covered Shelly’s mouth, hiding the cry as orgasm tightened and held, hiding the secret of their love as much as he could. 

Clinging to each other, softness welling up around them, comfortable in each other, in the promise of the future. Oliver, now on his side, pulled Shelly close, tucking him safe in his arms. “Did it hurt?”

“Only at the start, but then it was really, really good, felt wonderful,” Shelly said, dazed. “Forever.”

“Forever,” Oliver promised. “We will go to San Francisco. You’ll paint pictures and I’ll build fine buildings.”

“Going to sleep now,” Shelly purred, fingers interlinking with Oliver’s.

“For a little while,” Oliver agreed.

Everything was perfect. Such a perfect day.

Want more?  Check out Nix Winter’s website:

 www.nixwinter.com

Introducing erotic author, Jason Edding!  Please check out the links below…

Hi everyone! My name is Jason Edding, and I’m happy to be here. First, I’d like to thank Jon for the invitation to host me on this, my second blogging.  Yes, I’m still a newb at it, but hopefully this won’t be the last.  

I’ve thought a lot about what I would talk about today, and the thing that came to my mind, with the help of a dear friend, is to tell of my journey through being published for the first time. I still remember that day vividly. Two weeks prior to the fantastic news, I had sent a small manuscript of about 10k words, to a publisher. I didn’t hear anything back, and since I had been writing continuously and had lengthened the story by 11k more words, I decided to email the publisher again. Well, I heard back from them that very day, and I was told to go ahead and send the whole manuscript. Well, I immediately got a rush from that. I put the two parts together and sent it off.

I waited… but not long. If I remember correctly, it was the very next day when I got an email. Actually two emails. One an introduction and the second, my first contract to publish Dark Robe Heart. Wow, stunned isn’t the word for it. I was on cloud 9, or maybe 10, and I told everyone I knew. I couldn’t stop talking about it for days, and the rush is still with me.  I will say I’ve learned a ton. Not only about writing, but the editing, proofing, line editing and publishing aspects of writing. I like it all. There isn’t one part of the process that I don’t enjoy doing. In fact, I told my editor that the editing and revising process is actually my favorite part because I get a fresh look at the story, find my own mistakes and new ways of writing a particular part of the story come to me.
 
What I’m learning about now is promotion.  It’s taken a lot to figure out some of the “how-to’s,” “where-to’s,” and “whats” of promoting myself and my writing.  I’m getting there but there’s quite a learning curve.
 
 
Blurb  For Space Escapes
 
A disillusioned Jack Harrow escapes the crowded Earth of 2575 and its increasingly militaristic government, hoping to make a new life on the distant small moon of Jupiter. During this long voyage, military recruit Edge Fland catches first his eye, then his lust, but there’s more to this quiet man than Jack knows. The Dark Robe Society’s assassins are on Jack’s trail and will stop at nothing to achieve their goal of returning the item he carries to their society.
Here’s a PG excerpt from my upcoming novella, Dark Robe Heart: Dark Robe Society 1,  in the Space Escapes anthology along with Angela Fiddler, published by MLRpress
 

 
“Are you traveling to Jupiter?” Edge took the empty seat beside Jack and settled in. “Do you think it will be a long trip? I’ve never been.” The voice was close, soft, yet deep and somewhat soothing. Jack woke with a start, his hand gripping the ironite dagger hilt in his robe, ready to plunge it into the heart - - -
            “You have no idea how close you just came to biting the dust.” Jack sat up, and let his fingers slip from the cold metal hilt. He had a better look at the young blonde man in the blue jumpsuit now. He could tell he was a recent military recruit. Fresh meat, fodder for some dumb ass military campaign on the other side of the system. But in this recruit’s case, officer material; a cadet in training.
            The cadet raised his brow, and he gave Jack a slack jawed stare. “Sorrrrry, you looked like you were having a really bad nightmare.” The young guy settled down in the seat next to Jack. “I was getting lonely over there.” He jacked his thumb back at the seat he’d been in earlier. “You didn’t uh, accept my invitation so here I am.” He grinned, the gold caps showing in his teeth.
“I noticed it cadet, would have loved to take you up on the offer, but—-” You’re a diplomat Jack, remember that, he thought.
“You’re married, right?” The cadet sighed. “Always my luck, you know, here I am leaving Earth for the first time, haven’t had a “man for three months, itching to get off and give some head–”
 ”Cadet… not in public, eh, there are ladies and children—” Jack didn’t tolerate too much nonsense, his diplomatic training aside. This cadet may be a hottie, but he yapped far too much. Jack would never be able to stand him for long.
            “Yeah? I think they’re all sleepin’ man. But sure, you know what I mean.” The cadet sat back, stuffing his hands into his deep pockets.
            “No, I’m not married; yes I liked your offer, but as I was saying— now isn’t the best time for any man on man action, not of that kind.” He patted the cadet’s knee. Too bad, though, cute cadet, he thought.
The cadet sighed again, making a good show of his plight. “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want you, huh, you look like a clone anyway, I can tell a clone.” He snorted and started to get up.
            Jack’s hand shot out and grabbed the cadet’s arm. “Cadet… don’t ever call me a clone.” Jack said nothing else;  the cadet didn’t move a muscle. Jack released him and sat back. “Good, now you just sit there and be quiet and maybe I’ll give you a little something on the trip to Jupiter.” He wanted the cadet to stay beside him, at least he would be able to get some sleep, knowing the Darkies would think thrice about taking him out with someone sitting next to him.
            The cadet snorted again, sighed and pulled open the storage compartment above his head, released an army surplus blanket from plastic tie rings and covered himself with it. “Bad mood dude, but ok, I’ll just sit here and be quiet, I won’t say a word.”
            Jack let the younger man talk as he drifted. He had plans to make, and dreams would make his plans. His sleep was as restless as his clone brain, but knowing the cadet was beside him, made him feel a little better when he woke. The cadet’s hand had moved to his inner thigh, and his fingers were wrapped around his waking erection. 

Blurb for Dark Robe Edges: Dark Robe Society 2: in The Edge of Desperation

        Commander Tees appeared to be intently examining a blinking console, his back to the younger man.
                “Sir, I’m only telling you this because- -.”
                Tees about-faced., studying the younger man. He held up his hand, for a moment it looked to Edge, as if he would slap him across the face. “You’re speaking treason, be very careful, Lieutenant.” Now Edge remembered, it was Toren, Toren Mir.
                Toren shook his head. “Sir, my allegiance is first to the rebellion, and I wouldn’t be telling you this unless I thought it important,” he emphatically declared.
                Tees turned away and went back to studying a reactor control panel. “Speak quickly, then,” he advised.
                “The admiral blames Jack for his father’s death and- -.”
                “We all blamed him, didn’t we? But we all came to realize it was no direct fault of his or the other,” Tees asserted.
                Toren vehemently shook his head. “He does not realize, or he just doesn’t care. I think he plans to kill him.”
                Tees stiffened. So it was true, then, his belief that the admiral was losing control. He could not allow this to happen. But was it time for him to assume to mantle of command, he didn’t know.
                Edge’s entire body tensed. Kill Jack? Who? The old man has a son here… who could it be? He wondered.
 
                Tees turned, and placed his hands on Toren’s shoulders. “You know I trust you, but what you’re saying is madness!”
                Toren sighed and to Edge’s surprise, he leaned into Tees and wrapped his arms around him in a warm embrace. “I know. But Brekart sees only revenge. He is so filled with hate that I- - -”

 
Buylink for Space Escapes
 
http://www.mlrpress.com/ShowBook.php?book=ANSPACE1
 
 
Dark Robe Heart: Dark Robe Society 1 in SPACE ESCAPES By Jason Edding and Angela Fiddler, Available now from MLR Press.
Dark Robe Edges: Dark Robe Society 2 in THE EDGE OF DESPERATION By Jason Edding and James Buchanan. Coming soon from MLR Press.
http://www.mlrpress.com/books.php
My website -  http://jasonedding.books.officelive.com/default.aspx
My Live Journal page  -  http://jasonedding.livejournal.com/
My Yahoo Group - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/JasonEddingGayErotica/

This week, I welcome historical author, Alex Beecroft!

My new novel, ‘False Colors’ is coming out on the 6^th of April.  It’s a gay historical romance set in the Age of Sail, and I’ve noticed that when I say this to people they generally reply “Age of Sail?  What’s that?”  When I go on to say that the particular bit I’m interested in is the 18^th Century, I often get “oh, right; the Regency period.” 

While I would certainly like to read Pride and Prejudice, the GBLT version - where Darcy and Bingley end up together – the Regency is very different in terms of dress and social mores from the 18^th Century proper.  The French revolution 1789-1799 may have lasted only 10 years, but it made a huge impact on the culture of the time.  In Britain, at least, society became much more anxious, much more inclined to self-discipline and morality, self restraint and prudishness – as if by being conventionally virtuous they could stop the same thing from happening there.

Before the French Revolution, British society had been noisy, bumptious, rude and confident.  You see a glimpse of it in Jane Austen with all those crass, vulgar, big-hearted old people who embarrass their more refined children and grandchildren.  In Patrick O’Brien’s series of sea-faring novels set in the Napoleonic era, Jack Aubrey’s father, who damages Jack’s prospects of promotion by being loud and annoying in parliament, and damages Jack’s prospects of inheritance by marrying his chambermaid, is also a nod to the livelier, cruder days of the 18^th Century proper.

Five reasons to Love the 18^th Century.

1. Start shallow and work up   The clothes!  This was probably the last period in history when men were allowed to be as gorgeous as women.

http://www.antoinettescloset.com/realmenscloths.htm

This is the era of the poet-shirt with the big baggy sleeves and the neckline down to the navel, with or without ruffles or lace, as you prefer.  Rich men wore multi-coloured silk outfits with wonderful embroidery, contrasting waistcoats and knee breeches with fine silk stockings underneath.  Poor men wore the classic highwayman/pirate outfits complete with tricornered hats.  Did you know that a good calf on a man’s leg was considered such a desirable form of beauty that some men stuffed calf-enhancers made of cork down there?

2. Pretty deadly gentlemen.  The nice thing about all this male peacock display is that it could not be taken for a sign of weakness.  All these gorgeously plumed lads had been training to fence and fight and ride and shoot since they were old enough to stand up.  Ever seen ‘Rob Roy’ where Archie Cunningham slices and dices Liam Neeson as Rob Roy, while wearing an immaculate ice-blue waistcoat and extravagant Belgian lace?

There’s something very attractive about a class of men with Archie Cunningham’s ruthless intelligence, masterly swordfighting skills and love of expensive tailoring, but with the ‘evil bastard’ gene turned down a little.  At least, John Cavendish in False Colors teeters on the edge of that refined man of honour/dangerous sociopath divide.  He comes down firmly on the side of honour, but at times it’s a struggle.

3.  Tall ships!  This is where the ‘Age of Sail’ part comes in.  According to Wikipedia “The Age of Sail was the period in which international trade and naval warfare were dominated by sailing ships, lasting from the 16th to the mid 19th century.”  The 18^th Century is full square in the middle of that period.

For the first time in history ships and the provisioning of ships had advanced to the point where navigation was relatively reliable.  Enough food and water could be stored aboard so that voyages could continue for months or even years at a time.  Naturally this lead to wars being fought all over the world between the superpowers with the technology to build these ships.  The French, British, Spanish, Dutch and Americans spent the century in a shifting network of different alliances and battles.  And the navies of the Islamic Ottoman Empire preyed upon them all in a holy war against Christians, putting the fear of Allah into the people of coastal villages all over Europe, who they would capture and take off to become white slaves.  Not to be out-done in the category of epic moral failure, the Western nations were also getting their African slave routes into mass-production.

But just as exciting as war (cannons bellowing out choking clouds of yellow sulphurous smoke and boarding parties leaping from ship to ship, cutlasses between their teeth), this was also an age of exploration and discovery.  These ships were little closed communities sailing out into a vast, unknown world.  This was the last time in history when (Western) man could boldly go where no (Western) man had gone before.  And really, Captain Cook of the Endeavour with his red-coated marines can hardly not have been a direct inspiration for Captain Kirk of the Enterprise with his crew of red-shirted expendables.  The same sense of opening horizons and wonder and the indomitability of the human spirit (and the potential tragedy of interfering with other cultures) hangs over both.

4. Filth, pamphlets and pornography.

Unlike Jane Austen’s time, when a well brought up young woman could be horrified by the idea of acting in a play, or writing to a young man who was not her fiancé, the 18^th Century was much more… robust.  Filthy, in fact.  Literally filthy – streets full of horse manure and dead dogs, through which live cattle were lead to slaughter at the markets every morning (sometimes escaping to break into banks and terrorise the bankers).  But also redolent with filthy language; swearing, f’ing and blinding, referring to a spade as a spade, and various bodily functions by their Anglo-Saxon names.  The 18^th Century style of vocabulary in a gentleman’s coffee house would be too crude for me to subject refined persons of the 21^st Century to.  But because of this overabundance of filth you do also get a great sense of vitality and humour, of people who are unashamed and determined to squeeze the last particle of enjoyment out of the world.  People who cannot be cowed.  Their pornography reflects this; bumptious but strangely innocent (or perhaps just plain strange.)  Very much not safe for work link: http://joyful-molly.livejournal.com/57556.html#cutid1

I have to say my other hero in False Colors – Alfie Donwell – is more influenced than he perhaps should be by the sheer gusto and joy of the porn and bad language of the 18^th Century.  Why I ever thought he’d be a good mate for evangelical, refined, repressed John, I really can’t say!

5. The Gay Subculture.

By the early 18^th Century urbanization had reached a point in London that there were enough gay people in one place to begin to recognise each other and form a subculture of their own.  There were well known cruising spots such as the Inns of Court, Sodomite’s Walk in Moorfields or Birdcage Walk in St. James’ Park.  The technical term for homosexual people at the time was ’sodomites’ but they called themselves ‘mollies’, and there were molly houses where they could go to meet up and ‘marry’.  Famous mollies like ‘Princess Seraphina’ – a London butcher – spent a great deal of time in drag.  He seems to have been accepted into his community without a lot of fuss, as there are records of him dropping round to his female neighbours’ houses to have a cup of tea and borrow their clothes.

I really recommend Rictor Norton’s ‘Mother Clap’s Molly House’ http://www.rictornorton.co.uk/ as a great guide to that culture; scholarly but easy to read, generous and fascinating.  So fascinating I had to set at least one of my stories around a fictional molly house in Bermuda.  That’s Desire and Disguise, in the ‘I Do’ anthology, in which an unwary straight guy stumbles into the house by accident and gets a little more than he bargained for.  You might also be interested in this ‘choose your own adventure’ site:

http://www.umich.edu/~ece/student_projects/forbidden/index.html

Mother Clap’s molly house, you’ll be relieved to know, was so called because it was run by a gay friendly lady called Margaret Clap, not because that was something you were likely to get there!

In short, the 18^th Century in which False Colors was set could not be more different than the prim and refined era of the Regency novel.  I can’t offer a comedy of manners, only honour and adventure, battleships, pirates, explosions, a fair degree of lust and violence and bad language, and dangerous men in gorgeous clothes J

~*~*~*~

Alex Beecroft is the author of Captain’s Surrender, The Witch’s Boy and False Colors.

http://www.alexbeecroft.com

This week, please welcome multi-talented, multi-genre author, Jude Mason!

A couple of topics that have been going around a few of the blogs and yahoo groups of late concerning genres— what authors like to write, what readers like to read, and what the market is for all these new multi-genre books coming out in e-book format. Well, of course I have an opinion and I’ll do my best to share it with you. And, I’ll get to plug a few of my own books in the process. Bonus!

As an author, I’ve been told to write what I know.  In my opinion, that doesn’t necessarily mean things I’ve actually done, but things I’ve become interested in for one reason or another as well as the empathy I feel for others. What does that have to do with genres you might ask, well here ya go.

The first book I had published kind of followed the rule. It was about a topic that interested me greatly, at the time. It was called Dance of Submission and was published in 1999 by a now defunct publishing house called Amatory Ink. The next book was a science fiction. I grew up on science fiction: Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov and Mr. Heinlein, to name a few, so I felt pretty good going into that area. After that, I went a little nuts and dove headlong into a BDSM, fetish novel that took me forever to write and involved a topic I had literally no idea about. Anyone ever heard of pony boys? The interest was there. Oh yeah, and I did tons of research, so the book wasn’t bad. Who Races-Who Wins has since been pulled from the cyber shelves and waits for a re-write and a new home. I’ll get there. You’ll love Slither and his lovely wife, Christine.

Since then, I’ve written in just about every genre you can think of that’s got either romance or erotica in there. At the moment, I have a variety of genres available to the readers. Roses Have Thorns is an erotic horror story that will curl your toes.

Jesse’s Homecoming is a lesbian western that begins with Jesse returning home from a weekend of wandering in the hills. She finds her lover, Meg, being brutally raped by an ex-husband she’d escaped from years ago. Jesse fires her gun, wounding the man. Battered and bruised, Meg is sure she’s unlovable. It’s up to Jesse to prove her wrong and to get the monster she’d married sent to prison. 

Yes, Ma’am, a print collection of BDSM novellas of fem-domme fiction at its finest! My publisher, Phaze, was proud to present the novellas of Jude Mason in print. An Acquired Taste, Pink Ribbon, Stage Fright, and Amber’s Toy, plus never before published extras!

Fertile Domain is a gay futuristic book that also includes fem-domme in all its glory. In a world where pollution and greed has pushed humanity to the brink of extinction, fertility is one of the priorities. Men must prove themselves to fertile fems. For those who are lacking, or who cease to please the women, harsh treatment follows. Two new men, Jax and Trev, vie for a place among the elite ’studs’ of a beautiful fem. Will they succeed, will the love they feel for each other survive?

Then there’s Shoon Joining, a science fiction tale in the style of Spider Robinson, if I do say so myself. Coerced into negotiating with the alien race, the Shoon, Earthman Ambassador Trevor Sloan finds himself tossed into a scenario never before faced. Imprisoned by a corrupt bureaucracy, then rescued by his lover, they fight together, along with the Shoon, to end the ills of humanity.

Shifters and ghosts, mysteries and femdom, the more you mix it up, the more the readers seem to like it. Writing teams are popping up as well, there’s Stella and Audra Price, Alessia Brio and Will Belegon, and don’t forget Jude Mason and Jamie Hill. It seems two can come up with even more interesting genre mixes than a single author.

Check out our Untamed Heart Series, two of which are now available through Total E-Bound, one of the up and coming e-publishers who are putting out amazing products.

Feral Heat, Book one in the series: The scent of a female is a powerful thing. Kai, leader of the cougar clan finds that out the hard way, much to his distress. Can he and his life mate, Aric, find the stolen talisman before it’s too late?

And Bear Combustion, Book two in the series: Fire rages, not only through the forest to threaten the lives of his clan, but in the hearts of Tarek, the leader as well as Inuka, his firey lover and Raven, the stoic companion who secretly adores him. Can the flames of their love survive?

Diversity seems to be the flavor of the day when it comes to e-publishing. Brick and mortar shops are closing because they can’t deal with the print on demand of e-publishers, but I wonder if they’ve really thought about the whys of it? The fan base is shifting. They want variety in their novels. They don’t only want novels either. They want shorter stories they can read in one sitting. When you buy an e-book the cost is less, so much less that readers can afford to try new authors and new genres. The e-publishing industry is growing by leaps and bounds, putting out a plethora of genre busting books to satisfy anyone’s need.

From the readers I’ve spoken to, I get the distinct impression they’re fed up with single genre books. They want variety. They want us to surprise and shock them. As long as there’s a happy ending, or in some cases a happy for now ending, they want it. The more twisted and turned the plots, the more outrageous the genre mix, the better. How to market all these multi-genre books? In the local book store, I have no idea and that’s a large part of their problem. In my opinion, they’re going to have to find a way, or they’re business’ is going to simply go further downhill.

Jon, thanks so much for having me here and letting me spout off to your readers.

- - -

*Jude Mason - Come, explore with me…if you dare*

Links

Phaze

http://www.phaze.com/

Total E-Bound

http://www.total-e-bound.com/

Roses Have Thorns

http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=22_23_5&products_id=100

Jesse’s Homecoming

http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Jesse%27s+Homecoming+by+Jude+Mason

Yes, Ma’am

http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Yes,+Ma%27am+by+Jude+Mason

Fertile Domain

http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Fertile+Domain/exact_match=exact

Shoon Joining

http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Shoon+Joining/exact_match=exact

Feral Heat

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?s=o3f2w6558676&strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=362

Bear Combustion

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=423

 Where you can find Jude:

Website: http://www.my-haven2001.com/   
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/Jude_Masons_Newsletter/

Jude’s Blog: http://jude-mason.blogspot.com/

Jude at MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/jude_mason

Custom Erotica Fantasies: http://customeroticafantasies.blogspot.com/   
To join my mailing list, email me: jude.mason@yahoo.ca  

Editing the Perfect Novel

I recently finished editing my new novel, Surrender Love, due from Loose Id on February 17, 2009. It’s erotic M/M Science Fiction Romance. When I finished it — that is, prior to my editor getting her first look — it was over a hundred and forty thousand words. We had to cut it to a hundred and twenty thousand for it to fit the outer edges of Loose Id guidelines. Twenty thousand words. My first thought was, “But it’s perfect! I can’t take out anything!” How do you cut that many words you’ve sweated to produce?

Michelangelo was once asked how he could sculpt such beautiful pieces of marble into lifelike creatures. Paraphrasing his words, his response was that if you want to carve a horse from a huge block of marble, you simply chip away anything that didn’t look like a horse. In writing, you chip away any words that don’t portray exactly what the reader needs to enjoy and understand the story.

Easier said than done? Too, too true. I followed a few steps I’d learned from previous books and soon cut it down to the right size. I can’t take all the credit. My editor, Hollie Hollis, guided me and provided excellent ideas on where to cut, but the actual snipping and trimming was mostly my own. It went back and forth between my editor and me several times, before going to another level, the line editor, back to my editor, and then to me. Each time, I cut more, polished more. So, what exactly did I cut? Here’s a basic list any author can follow and apply.

A) Look for sub-plots that don’t move the story forward, or can be developed in a sequel or another book. My strong suggestion is that you never cut anything more than a sentence or two without saving it to a document called Ideas for _______ , using the series name, or “other books”, etc.

B) Passages I particularly loved but didn’t fit for whatever reason went into Cuts I Love.doc. These were passages that could be adapted for any book I wrote, whereas the Ideas document is strictly for story-related material. An example from the Cuts doc is “Let yourself want it. Let yourself enjoy the lust, the heat. Let yourself rest in my arms while I pleasure you.” I cut this from another book because it didn’t work for my beta hero, but would be great in an alpha love scene.

C) Characters not necessary to the story. In Surrender Love, Luc had a dungeon in his penthouse, nearly an entire floor with rooms designed with every type of pleasure and punishment in mind. When he meets Izzorah “Rah” Ceeow and falls for him, he knows immediately the way to Rah’s heart is not through pain, but with a gentle hand. I wrote a scene where he calls in a designer and orders everything on that floor ripped out, and changed over to a private nightclub and areas for Rah’s rock band, Kumwhatmay, to practice and record. The designer also held appeal for another minor character, and I knew I couldn’t let them get together or sparks would fly. There wasn’t going to be time to chase that bunny trail, but it could end up launching a new book. I decided to cut and save it, eliminating several pages and nearly two thousand words.

D) Look for words that end in “ing”. This ending is proper for words used within a passive framework, but not for active. An example from Surrender Love is when the alpha hero is the passive recipient, and “ing” helps reveal that.

Luc shook his head, throat too tight, panting so hard he couldn’t speak.

“You’re starving for it, t’hahr. I can taste your hunger. Let me give myself to you.”

Luc didn’t trust his voice. Can’t lose control now. Can’t. Can’t. He shook his head, fighting for mastery of his emotions.

If you find “ing” words where the scene should be active, it’s easy to change to active. Here is the same passage, altered from passive to active. Note the slight change in wording.

Luc shook his head, throat too tight. He panted, speech past him.

“You’re starving for it, t’hahr. I can taste your hunger. Let me give myself to you.”

Luc didn’t trust his voice. Can’t lose control now. Can’t. Can’t. He mastered his emotions and shook his head.

The first paragraph is fifty words; the second is forty-seven. Three words doesn’t sound like much, but multiply that by eliminating three words per page in a three hundred page document, and you have nine hundred words. Averaging two hundred fifty words per page, you’ve cut almost four pages.

The key point is that “ing” words often reveal passive phrases. Hunt them to sharpen the action and reword to make the sentence stronger. Small reminder: not all such words are going to help, i.e., thing, sing, string, during, something, anything, ring (noun), and so on. If you look, however, you’ll find plenty of places to change structure and write in a more active tense, often saving words.

These are the fastest way to cut, and there are many more. I’d love to hear ideas from you!

The book I referenced in this article is Surrender Love, coming from Loose Id on February 17, 2009. http://loose-id.com