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

 

 

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/

Cowboys’ Christmas

By Carol McKenzie

http://carol-mckenzie.com

http://xanga.com/mckbooks

 

As of today, Friday, December 19th, 2008, Cowboys’ Christmas is ranked the #1 best seller at Fictionwise for loveyoudivine, it is the #1 best seller for loveyoudivine at All Romance Ebooks and ranks #15 at AllShortStories.com

 

It is the first story to be released for the coming print anthology in 2009, Men On Holiday.

 

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://tinyurl.com/4u2yz8

Video Trailer: http://tinyurl.com/59anuw

About

Cowboys’ Christmas

 

The First Release from MEN II: On Holiday from Carol McKenzie - DEC 1st

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?

Excerpt:

 

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.

A sleepy-eyed, brunette attendant behind a counter looked at him over her gold-rimmed glasses and blinked long, curling lashes.

Tipping onto his toes, he drew a couple of wadded bills from his tight jeans’ pocket and placed them on the steel counter.

The attendant took them without a word.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said and returned to his truck.
He climbed into the cab, closed the door and within the minute, drove toward Kalama, Washington, taking the interstate north. Pangs of loneliness entered his system again. He thought about his family; those alive and dead. I need to make a call. He retrieved his cell phone from the center console. Without swerving off the road, he dialed his sister in Rufus, Oregon.
“Katy, this season’s done. Thank God.”
“I hope you come home.” Her voice sounded creaky. He imagined her soft, freckled face and auburn, curly hair. “It’s been quiet here since mom and dad’s died.”

A picture of their parent’s crumpled automobile, with blood on the seats the day after their head on collision in Medford played in his mind. The horrible call from the emergency room had come announcing their demise. He gulped air in his sadness.

His sister sighed, bringing him back to the here and now. “Things are fallin’ apart around this ol’ place. Frank’s not into ranchin’. He can’t even ride a horse.”

Blake wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and the remembrance ended. He clucked his tongue, recalling her tenderfoot boyfriend, Frank. “I’ll bet.” A misplaced smile quirked at the corners of his lips. It’s best I change the subject, or she’ll cry. “What do you want for Christmas, sis?”

“Just get here safely. We’ll have a nice holiday, if you come. I’m invitin’ you, you know.”

“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.”

Once he put the cell phone back in the case and closed the console lid, he took a left onto a different highway and began thinking about what Katy didn’t know—his ideas on sexual preferences. It’d shock her to death. He thought about his job situation, too. Maybe I’ll work the farm. Or become a cop. At a stoplight he lit a cigarette and slid the Bic back into the pocket of his blue western shirt. Right now, all I do is get out there and risk life and limb…for what? To give the audience thrills, and all I get is a few measly dollars. Shit. I must have rocks in my fuckin’ head. What the hell am I goin’ to do? Should I rodeo another year, or quit? Cops’ lives are always in danger. Maybe my back ain’t in good enough shape to do that kind of work.

He coughed, took another drag off his Benson & Hedges and glanced at the speedometer. The dial read he was going five miles per hour over the speed limit. He raised his foot a bit on the gas pedal until the needle stopped just over sixty-five. An elongated sigh left his lips.

He passed several dense, vast forested areas. The dark green fir trees alongside the road forked upward toward a gloomy, cloudy sky. Rain splattered on the windshield as the wipers thump-thump-thumped. When he stopped at a sign, he flicked his cigarette out the window into a mud puddle. He turned the satellite’s radio knob to a country-western station and hummed along with George Strait who sang Easy Come, Easy Go.

As he started driving, his thoughts turned to a better subject. Yeah, I’ll park this thing and take a rest. Gettin’ a mess of Riley will make me feel better. The U-Shine Car Wash caught Blake’s eye. Maybe I should unhook this thing and wash the road dust off my pickup. He decided to keep on trucking, wanting to get to his destination before dark and get a space rented. I’ll wash it tomorrow.

Mid-afternoon, driving along on I-5, he gazed out upon the sparkling Columbia River near his exit. Slow barges made their way north and west; a breathtaking sight.

Once off the interstate and in town, he drove down the main drag looking for the old, peeling sign that read Campground–Marty’s Trailer Spaces–Weekly and Monthly Rates. Blake passed the launderette and the post office. He traveled two blocks past the totem pole, the Lone Pine Cafe and made a right just like he had at previous season’s end.

I’ll rest. Maybe spend part of the winter with my ol’ buddy.

He pictured his pal, Riley S. Campbell, when he last saw him over a year earlier. He stood five ten and had a slim, strong build. Blake never thought to ask his exact age, but he guessed it to be around twenty-eight. He’d worn hand-tooled boots and a belt that sported a silver Texas longhorn buckle. Riley’s onyx gaze seemed to penetrate his soul and mind. Worn jeans, most of the time faded, encased a well-shaped ass. Blake began to feel the slide of him coming inside his body. Damn, I’ve missed him. He’ll be a sight for sore eyes.

This week I welcome multi-published author, Amanda Young, as Guest Blogger!

 

 

 

One of my favorite things about writing M/M romance is the ability to write outside the box. The characters don’t have to be the typical alpha male found in other genres. 

 

In my opinion, the idea of physical beauty in this day and age is a little skewed. Instead of smooth, flawless skin and gym-toned bodies, I’ve always been drawn to a different sort of man. The kind of man who’s built like a brick sh*thouse and covered in hair. That’s right—Bears. There’s nothing sexier to me than a hairy chest and a solid masculine body. Michael Angelo’s David be damned, I want to explore the allure of brawny men who can bench-press their own weight plus that of their partner.

 

For my next series, I’m planning to focus on big strapping men with even bigger hearts. There will be Bears, and Otters, and Wolves—oh my. For those of you who don’t know the terminology, I thought I would share some definitions (as I understand them) with you.

 

• Admirer - a term that refers to someone who is sexually or romantically attracted to Bears (this term is often used in various communities to describe an outsider who has sexual attraction to people within that community). Also often referred to as a Chaser. Admirers/Chasers can be of any weight, hairy or hairless and any age.
• Bear - a hairy man with a stocky or heavyset build and facial hair. Can be clean shaven and of any age.
• Bear run - a gathering or circuit party for Bear/Cub types and their Admirers.
• Cub - a younger (or younger looking) version of a Bear, typically but not always with a smaller frame. The term is sometimes used to imply the passive partner in a relationship.^[10] Can be hairy or hairless.
• Gobi - A male, often heterosexual, who is often in the company of bears. Likened to a Goldilocks.
• Daddy bear - is an older guy sometimes looking for a daddy/son relationship with either a younger Bear, Cub, Otter, Wolf or Chaser.
• Goldilocks - A female, often heterosexual, who is often in the company of bears (a bear’s fag hag).
• Leatherbear - A bear with a leather fetish.
• Muscle bear - a muscular version of a Bear. A muscle cub is a younger or smaller, yet muscular, version. Can be hairy or hairless and of any age.
• Otter - a man who is hairy, but is not large or stocky - typically thinner, or with lean muscle. Slimmer version of a Bear with little pockets of fat like love handles or a tiny gut, but not as lean as a Wolf.
• Panda bear - a bear of Asian ethnicity. A panda cub is younger version. Usually hairless.
• Pocket bear - A short Bear.
• Polar bear - a silver- or white-haired Bear.
• Wolf - A lean, masculine gay man who is attracted to bears and involved in the bear scene.
• Woof - A greeting often used when a Bear spots another Bear in public and wants to express physical attraction. He might make a growling noise (”Grrr!”) or say “Woof!”

 

 

What would you, the reader, like to see more of in erotic M/M romance? Maybe more overweight characters, or “Average Joe” type heroes. How about little known fetishes, like sploshing or water sports? For every kink you can dream up, there’s someone out there who’s interested. I’d love to hear what readers would like to see more of.

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Amanda Young writes in multiple subgenres, including M/F, M/M, and paranormal romance. The only thing she guarantees is hot ride and a happy ending. To learn more about Amanda’s books, please visit her website: www.AmandaYoung.org

 

Men, the first print anthology by loveyoudivine His & His Kisses imprint, hits #2 seller at the largest GLBTQ bookstore in Atlanta, Georgia following a joint reading/book signing by Alex Morgan and moi, Jon Michaelsen!  Please join us in our celebration!!!

http://www.outwritebooks.com/