Six Sentence Sunday

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Six Sentence Sunday 10/29

Not my usual topic on this blog, but I had a fun little ghost scene from my alter ego. It is almost Halloween, after all!

 
The Set up: Katherine "KC" Carmichael inherits a B&B called the Honey House from a virtual stranger named Joanne. KC is trying to figure what the con is, because she started working scams when she was just a little girl, and recognizes one when she sees it. But if this is a con...it's a damned good one.

The Six:

“You’re pale as a ghost, dear.”
 
“Funny, Joanne,” I said, wandering around the room looking for the projector.
 
“Yes, I thought so,” the transparent figure agreed, smiling rather smugly. "Now, please sit down because I have very little time and you must have a lot of questions.”
 
“Look...not that I’m admitting you’re a ghost, but say you were...where exactly would you need to be?”
 
“Why Rome, of course."

Read Sample or Buy at Amazon 

Read Sample or Buy at ARe

Release Day for Lisa Worrall and Forever Dusk

FOREVER DUSK - RELEASE DAY!

BUY HERE!!

Self-confessed horror fan Jonah reluctantly agrees to accompany best friend Theo and his latest squeeze to a new club downtown. Dressing up like an Anne Rice reject was not part of the deal, but that's exactly how he finds himself outside Forever Dusk--the latest theme club for wannabe vampires.

After watching a fake vampire sinking his fake fangs into fake skin and drinking fake blood, and warding off an attempted assault by a drunk moron sporting fake contacts, Jonah decides to beat a hasty retreat.

Until he gazes into the beautiful, violet-colored eyes of Sebastian O'Keefe, the club's owner. Inexplicably drawn to this vision of tall, dark, and mysterious, Jonah makes a decision that could change his life forever.

 ***

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this. What the fuck am I doing?" Jonah complained, picking at the stupid ruffles on the stupid shirt Theo had insisted he wear.
 
"Being a whiny little bastard," Theo replied. "You're driving me nuts, dude. This is supposed to be an evening of mystery and adventure, not an evening of listening to you bitch and moan." Looking again at the directions written on the square of paper in his hand, he made a right turn.

Jonah ran a hand through his chestnut colored hair and winced when the huge costume ring he was wearing got caught in the soft waves. "This club had better be worth all the hype. I look like a refugee from a Dracula audition." He glanced over at Theo as he turned down an alleyway and steered the car to a stop. "What's this girl's name again?"

"Clarissa," Theo said, on a breathy sigh.

Jonah rolled his eyes. There it was again, the same stupid dreamy-eyed look Theo had been getting ever since he'd met this girl in the student union last weekend. "Will you stop thinking with your dick and concentrate," Jonah grumbled. "What time did Goth girl say she was meeting us?"

"Eleven," Theo replied, shutting off the engine and palming his keys. Turning to look at Jonah, he licked his thumb and reached toward his friend. "Your eyeliner is smudged."

"Dude," Jonah cringed, batting Theo's hand away. "I'll deal with my own eyeliner thanks. Which has got to be the weirdest thing I've ever said." Pulling down the mirror on the visor, he swiped a thumb underneath his eye.

Theo shrugged, glancing at his watch and pulling at the black ruffled shirt he was wearing. "I don't know why you're making such a fuss about a little bit of make-up. Don't you people wear it all the time?"

"You people?" Jonah huffed incredulously. "You're lucky we're friends, pal, or I'd be punching you in your stupid face right now. Just because I'm gay does not mean I wear lip gloss, eyeliner, and mince around in a pink tutu." He frowned at his best friend. "I find your stereotypical remarks offensive. But then I find most things about you offensive."

"Says the guy in the tight leather pants and satin shirt," Theo drawled back, not the slightest bit put out at the slur upon his character.

Jonah growled something about Theo's parentage not being quite legal and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. The cold night air immediately permeated the thin fabric of the ruffled satin and he folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to retain some body heat. He thought of his nice warm room, with its nice warm couch and its nice warm TV. Jonah never really knew how he let Theo talk him into these things. Surely he knew well enough by now not to be sucked in when the "best friend" card was played? Obviously not, his inner voice whispered in his ear. If you did, you wouldn't be standing in a cold, dark alley dressed like an Anne Rice reject, while Theo waited for the flavor of the week.

Weekend Dirty Dozen (MM Art/NSFW)

 

The blurb: Tyler has used Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell as a shield against the truth since he was seventeen. Cut loose from his Navy career and mourning his mentor’s death, Ty must come to terms with his desire for another man even while he fights to keep the PTSD from pulling him under. Rancher Cass Cartwright’s relationships never last more than a few hours, and that’s just the way he likes it. Now he's done the one thing he swore never to do: fallen in love. Can Cass convince Ty to let go of his past or will sabotage at the ranch kill their love before it has a chance to grow?

 
The Set Up: Ty's a wee bit tipsy, and he tells Cass about his past. Something in the story nearly brings Cass to his knees and he realizes he wants Ty in a way he's never wanted someone before. Ty discovers his reasons for saying no to his nature might not matter as much as he thought they did.

The Twelve: Ty’s cock was straining against his zipper, and he shifted his hips, trying to get a little more room. Cass brushed his hand across the taut denim and Ty thought he might shoot his load from just that brief contact. His hips jerked, and this time it was Cass who let out a low, deep moan.

“We’ll go nice and slow, baby,” said Cass, his voice a deep caress. “I want you to lie back. I’m going to undress you and then I’m going to taste you,” Cass whispered.

Tyler tensed at his words, desire warring with guilt. Was he really ready to shed his protective cloak of self-denial?

“Shh…. That’s all we’ll do tonight. I need to taste you, Ty. I want your hard cock between my lips, down my throat,” Cass said. 

“Oh God,” Ty whispered again, and there was no longer any question of what he wanted.

Buy Info: To honor my friend and inspiration for this book, I have lowered the price, so anyone who wants to give mm fiction a try-this is your chance for under a buck!- (Amazon may take a few hours to update the correct price)

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Weekend Dirty Dozen

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Wipeout Homoerotic Artists on Facebook?

Over the past two months, several of my friends who write, photograph, and showcase male male fiction and art have been attacked or reported  by 'friends' for displaying "pornography." 

This post may be familiar to some of you, because I posted about this before, when Dan Skinner's Facebook page was reported and removed without warning. It looks as if it's happened again. Damon Suede is also gone. Who's next?

 Wipeout Homoerotic Artists on Facebook?
I suppose there could be a perfectly benign reason these two men have had their accounts removed in the last twenty-four hours. It doesn't feel that way. Not after the purge six weeks ago. It feels to me as if there is a group operating on Facebook, deliberately targeting and reporting people associated with the MM fiction and erotica industry. Consider it an evil twin to the Wipeout Homophobia on Facebook group.

If you're not familiar with WHOF, members can report Facebook pages that promote hate or violence against gays. Pages that can lead to dangerous activity, not pages that are editorial in nature. If the group administrators agree the page is in violation, members are notified and report the offensive page en masse. 

Is it possible that this small branch of the gay community has been targeted by bigots determined to keep them of Facebook?



Allow me to raise my old rant for a minute...I am sick of the double standard. For my entire life, women have been portrayed as sex objects, breasts and ass cheeks on display for entertainment purposes. Don't believe me? Turn on the football game any Sunday afternoon and checkout the boobage on display. And how does that add to the contest on the field? Oh, right. It doesn't.

Yet, a beautiful piece of art that enhances the beauty or drama of a work of fiction is deemed pornography. The glorious standard of "I'll know it when I see it," decrees that it is obscene or porn.


Here's the rule that we have agreed to abide by as users of Facebook:
You will not post content that: is hateful, threatening, or pornographic; incites violence; or contains nudity or graphic or gratuitous violence.

'Contains nudity'...a rather nebulous term, don't you think? Where do we draw the line? As we learned with GA's cover, apparently we draw the line for a male at the pubic hairline. Unless it was the man nipples or navel that offended. According to the man who reported this cover, it was the exposed penis that cause him to report this as offensive. I kid you not…he looked at this picture and saw a penis. Probably says something very unflattering about his equipment. Yeah, that was a low blow...but this is my page. I'm allowed.

 Consider a mother nursing her baby? Would that pass the nudity test? Beach volleyball for women in sports bras would be okay, but would a shirtless male torso? Of course, unless another male hand was touching the chiseled flesh.

Then...Red card violation! Damn…stepped over the line. 

Okay, how about a Sports illustrated swimsuit model whose nipples faintly show through the two inches of fabric that cover the center of each breast. Long expanse of torso, all the way down to her denuded pubic area, so that the other scrap of fabric covers the pubic bone. Sometimes this shot is shown from behind and we discover the thong cut of the bottom piece. Fabric is measured in square inches, but by golly she’s not nude. Or even better...look, she forgot her top...Bet FB would let this one stay...

On the other hand, a male draped in another man’s embrace and a bath towel? No…he’s with another man and a towel isn’t clothing, therefore he’s nude. If it was a group of men wrapped in towels, standing in the locker room, they’re not really nude- because it’s part of the sport. Hmm…I’m sensing a trend.

Dan Skinner is my friend. He creates beautiful homoerotic art. He photographs men, glorious photos that move me and others through the stories he captures with both his imagination and his lens. I have many friends who tell wonderful stories of love and romance and the main characters are both males. I write gay fiction. Say it any way you want. 

If you want to follow me on Facebook, you will see and read about manlove. Get over it or get off my page. Through my warnings and the privacy settings on my posts, I have done what I can to protect you – the rest is up to you. If you don’t like what I write about, what I talk about, what I share with my friends, please act like a responsible adult and leave.

I don't want to be in a reporting war with bigots, but I will defend my friends and I will defend my right to voice my opinion.

Three's Allowed Covers

After a dispute with my former publisher, I was able to obtain the rights to the first two books in the Three's Allowed Series. That means I needed to re-edit and create new artwork as well as wait the requisite 60 days before I could publish the books again.

The waiting period is almost over, and you can look for Whiteout and Rescued to be released on 11/11/11 from my own label, Hot Corner Press. You will be pleasantly surprised bu the new price, too!

Over the next couple of weeks I will be sharing excepts from all three books in the series, and remember, Salvation, Book 3 is available now, and can easily be read as a stand alone.

So here are the covers...aren't they beautiful? All of the MM photos are from DWS Photography, and are key to creating the covers. I wanted art that showed the men were a loving and important part of the relationship. None of the books features a couple, plus one. Instead, these are books where the bond between the men is either prexisting as friends or, in the case of Rescued, the attraction is formed through an initial misunderstanding. Either way, without the loving and caring by the men, nothing about the relationship works.

Six Sentence Sunday

 

From Continental Divide, my WIP with the wickedly talented Lisa Worrall. What do you have when you mix one Scotland Yard Inspector, one Phoenix Police Department Detective, and too many missing boys? It's an international affair, to be sure. Remy and Jamie are starting to lay the foundation for their cover story: Jamie, the debauched Lord, whose fall from grace into the world of illicit and illegal sex trade is engineered by his own personal Svengali- played by Remy. The set up at the nightclub is perfect, all the way down to the sexy waiter wearing black pleather pants and suspenders with his washboard abs displayed under a faint sheen oil glistening on his tanning booth skin. Hmm...this is the way it's supposed to go, right?

The Six

Jamie accepted the drink and offered a toast, the corner of his mouth quirked up, “Ah, excellent- I assume I owe this to you, Remington, good man.” He turned to face the waiter, “Speaking of delicious…”

“Yes, sir, if you would prefer something…different, just let me know,” the sexy blonde server added, with a wink.

“Does that include you, love?” Jamie asked, licking his lips, his gaze doing the slow crawl and zeroing in on the waiter's bulging crotch.

The server’s smile did bad things to Remy’s stomach. He tossed a bill onto the drink tray and leaned in close so his words wouldn’t be missed, “He’s teasing-you’re too old. Now go away, fuckhead.”

Be sure to visit my other blog, One Hot Mess and the other Six Sentence Sunday entries. 

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