Wipeout Homoerotica Writers on Facebook?

Today was an entirely too stressful day. Not because of anything that happened to me, but because of what happened to my friend Daniel Skinner. I have changed my profile picture as a tribute to his work as a legitimate photographer, whose subjects often showcase male love. In the past several weeks, four of my friends who write, photograph, and showcase male male fiction and art have been attacked or reported  by 'friends' for displaying "pornography." 

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. I kid you not…he looked at this picture and saw a penis. Probably says something very unflattering about him.

 How about a mother nursing? Would that pass the nudity test? Beach volleyball for women in sports bras would be okay, how about a shirtless male torso?

I bet that would pass muster. But what if another male hand was touching that sweaty male torso? 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.

Six Sentence Sunday

After an evening of toasting the memory of his old friend Gibby, Tyler is more than a little "toasted" himself. When he wanders into the wrong room by mistake, he gets quite an eyeful.


 The Six
When he thought about what it had felt like this morning to press himself against Ty’s back, to steal a taste of those lips…. He had a feeling his dick might not go back down until he got Ty out of his sight permanently.

There is no way I can sleep with this damn pole, he thought, looking down at his cock straining against the thin fabric. Tucking his thumbs inside the waistband, he was just sliding his boxers down his thighs, when, with a soft tap, the bedroom door swung open and Tyler stepped inside.

“Whoops,” Ty said, the corner of his mouth twitching, as if hiding a smile. “Looks like I caught you with your pants down, cowboy.” 


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

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.

Then with one raised eyebrow and an order to dance, Remy had forgotten everything about their assignment and was lost in the immediacy of Jamie. In having him right-the-fuck-now.

Christ, how the hell was he supposed to stay focused on creating their cover when tall, dark, and say-my-name was all over him like a wet dream? He could close his eyes and picture that dark hair, the perfect face, and the deep green eyes half hidden under the sleepy-sexy lids. The holy-shit orgasm that nearly made him black out. He’d wanted to fall to the other man’s feet and beg for forgiveness for what he knew he had to do.

Be sure to visit Lisa's Ramblings for a different perspective on things...

And all the other fine Six Sentence Sunday entries here.

Six Sentence Sunday

The week's SSS is from Salvation. In this scene Marcus and Max are hosting a class at their BDSM club. Best friends for years, the always straight Max surprises Master Marcus, by offering himself without placing limits on the scene. Marcus has always wanted Max, but their friendship means more than one night of sex-if he takes Max, he plans to keep him.

The Six

"We’ll get back to negotiations in a minute, right now, I want you to stand here and think about your decision.You have until I’m finished talking to this group to change your mind.” 


Marcus moved behind Max, slid his hands around his friend’s waist, and pressed his cock against the other man's ass. Max’s breathing was fast and shallow. As Marcus removed Max’s tie, he whispered in his ear, barely loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. 

“Don’t offer everything unless you’re willing for me to take it.”

Thanks for stopping by. Salvation is available at the following online retailers:

Read an excerpt and buy at Amazon

Read an excerpt and buy at All Romance eBooks

Six Sentence Sunday

This week's six comes from Continental Divide, a mystery romance I am writing with the fabulous Lisa Worrall.

The Set up

Inspector James 'Jamie' Mainwaring, who also happens to be the forty-second Duke of Fordham, and eighty-seventh in line for the throne, is a copper up to his arse in missing boys. Detective Remington knows personally that runaway boys will do whatever it takes to survive a night on the street, but he's got a problem when they go missing from his city. The two men are brought together in an investigation of human trafficking that spans continents and involves those the at highest levels of international politics.

The Six

The tap on the door startled him. Without hesitation, Remy grabbed his gun from its spot on top of the bureau, and moved to stand just to the side of the door. A quick peek through the small hole gave him a fish-eye view of a suited arm and a hand holding an identification card. Remy opened the door with a quick jerk and used his gun to gesture the other man inside.

“Let me see it,” he held out his hand for the credentials. With one hand on his weapon and the other reaching for the small leather folder, Remy became suddenly aware that he had no hands left to hold up his towel.
 


I hope you enjoyed this little tease. Don't forget to check out all the other Six Sentence Sunday entries by clicking Here .