Coming on Wednesday:
Leave Your Worries Behind by Winnie Jerome (Short Story, M/M/M)
Protecting You by Berengaria Brown (Novella, M/M/F)
The Misadventures of Daniel and Zane, a Velvet Glove story by Sean Michael (Novella, M/M)
The Retreat, a Roughstock story by BA Tortuga (Short Story, M/M)
Publishers, writers and readers of gay romance, m/m, slash, menage and lesbian romance. See what Romance for the Rest of Us (TM) is all about. www.torquerebooks.com
Monday, April 30, 2012
Meme Monday: Wee Folk Day
Did you know...
... that today is Wee Folk Day? In ancient times, people would bake sweet breads on this day and leave them out for the returning Wee Folk. If the breads were eaten, then the family would have good fortune the rest of the year. :-)
Have you every written a book with fairies or have any favorite fairy books?
... that today is Wee Folk Day? In ancient times, people would bake sweet breads on this day and leave them out for the returning Wee Folk. If the breads were eaten, then the family would have good fortune the rest of the year. :-)
Have you every written a book with fairies or have any favorite fairy books?
Sunday, April 29, 2012
I’m back--
I'm pretty down today. My guide dog of almost thirteen years is gone. So that's been a hard thing for me. It's just a one-day-at-a-time thing right now.
I've been sleeping on the loveseat in the front room of our apartment to be with him at night. I needed the time with him and he seemed to like it. The downside was, of course, that it's a loveseat.
Our apartment isn't that big, and if you live in New Jersey, you know that space is at a premium. So, up until a few days ago, our two bedroom apartment housed two dogs--my sister's dog is a mastiff-Labrador-Shepherd mix-- four cats, and two conures.
My daughter's conure, who has been living with us in between moves, is called Banana and he's a Nanday Conure. Mine is a Green-Cheeked Conure, less than a year old. Hey, the pet store was going to ship him off to a bird rescue place or something--whatever it was, it sounded pretty dire.
I named him Baker after Baker Street of Sherlock Holmes fame.
While I was cuddling and holding him, they said they don't usually keep them when they're over a year (he's about 10mos or so) and that he'd been shipped from another store with nest mates--all of whom were sold, but nobody wanted him. They proceeded to knock his price down by half. As a starving author, that was still a lot of money for me, but still…
Anyway, since I'm a bit sluggish, I hope you'll forgive me.
This excerpt that I'm about to post is one of two for this blog post. You might have read something I've posted about the impetus for Hauling Ashes and the character Garret. He was patterned after a friend of mine that sometimes wishes he could step out of his "straight-man" world, and take a walk on the other side of the fence. I'm quite sure he likes his life as it is, most of the time. But don't we all have "what ifs" that we keep hidden? Langley is somebody else entirely. That young man thought he was all grown up and knew what he wanted--until someone gave it to him.
The second excerpt I'm posting is from Rocks and Hard Places. It came about from a collection of inspirations. Someone I was chatting with at the time was complaining about finding the area they'd traveled to being covered in rocks and dirt, as opposed to the pastoral haven they'd hoped for.
Immediately, I thought of a spaceship landing on the nearest planet. The travelers would have to take what they got, as shown in countless episodes of Star Trek that I watched growing up. The characters were inspired by various people and characters over the years.
The one person who is based on someone specific is Granite. I knew a man--okay, I met a man--in the grocery store where I worked years ago. He was tall, well built, very attractive, and had white hair and eyebrows, though he was in his early thirties. He told me that his hair had always been white--it was a family trait.
So, here are your excerpts:
It's been too long since Langley has had his ashes hauled - -so long that even his snarky old supervisor looks good to him.
Garret keeps a tight rein on his passions… his burning desires. For two years, the fire for his assistant has smoldered. After two years of Langley Johnson stumbling into work looking debauched and delectable, that fire is blazing out of control.
What will it take to bank the fire? Or is it too late for anything but ashes?
Micah and her enigmatic brother, Granite, are both manufactured people, grown in a lab, and a lot of people think that means they're not real, that they can't think or feel. Micah knows better, and she knows that her brother had feelings that run deep, which is why she's willing to help her fellow Science Officer and shipmate, Willy, who thinks her brother is the hottest thing around.
Granite has no problem sharing his physical love with Willy, but he isn't sure about emotions. Micah has the opposite problem with the man she's learning the art of love from; Commander West has all of the old prejudices against manufactured people, and Micah isn't sure how to fight them. Can she and brother Granite both learn how to express their love the right way, before the dangers of intergalactic war overwhelms them?
I'm pretty down today. My guide dog of almost thirteen years is gone. So that's been a hard thing for me. It's just a one-day-at-a-time thing right now.
I've been sleeping on the loveseat in the front room of our apartment to be with him at night. I needed the time with him and he seemed to like it. The downside was, of course, that it's a loveseat.
Our apartment isn't that big, and if you live in New Jersey, you know that space is at a premium. So, up until a few days ago, our two bedroom apartment housed two dogs--my sister's dog is a mastiff-Labrador-Shepherd mix-- four cats, and two conures.
My daughter's conure, who has been living with us in between moves, is called Banana and he's a Nanday Conure. Mine is a Green-Cheeked Conure, less than a year old. Hey, the pet store was going to ship him off to a bird rescue place or something--whatever it was, it sounded pretty dire.
I named him Baker after Baker Street of Sherlock Holmes fame.
While I was cuddling and holding him, they said they don't usually keep them when they're over a year (he's about 10mos or so) and that he'd been shipped from another store with nest mates--all of whom were sold, but nobody wanted him. They proceeded to knock his price down by half. As a starving author, that was still a lot of money for me, but still…
Anyway, since I'm a bit sluggish, I hope you'll forgive me.
This excerpt that I'm about to post is one of two for this blog post. You might have read something I've posted about the impetus for Hauling Ashes and the character Garret. He was patterned after a friend of mine that sometimes wishes he could step out of his "straight-man" world, and take a walk on the other side of the fence. I'm quite sure he likes his life as it is, most of the time. But don't we all have "what ifs" that we keep hidden? Langley is somebody else entirely. That young man thought he was all grown up and knew what he wanted--until someone gave it to him.
The second excerpt I'm posting is from Rocks and Hard Places. It came about from a collection of inspirations. Someone I was chatting with at the time was complaining about finding the area they'd traveled to being covered in rocks and dirt, as opposed to the pastoral haven they'd hoped for.
Immediately, I thought of a spaceship landing on the nearest planet. The travelers would have to take what they got, as shown in countless episodes of Star Trek that I watched growing up. The characters were inspired by various people and characters over the years.
The one person who is based on someone specific is Granite. I knew a man--okay, I met a man--in the grocery store where I worked years ago. He was tall, well built, very attractive, and had white hair and eyebrows, though he was in his early thirties. He told me that his hair had always been white--it was a family trait.
So, here are your excerpts:
Hauling Ashes
Starting at: $2.49
by J.J. MassaIt's been too long since Langley has had his ashes hauled - -so long that even his snarky old supervisor looks good to him.
Garret keeps a tight rein on his passions… his burning desires. For two years, the fire for his assistant has smoldered. After two years of Langley Johnson stumbling into work looking debauched and delectable, that fire is blazing out of control.
What will it take to bank the fire? Or is it too late for anything but ashes?
~~~
Excerpt:
Garret
had seldom been so grateful to see the hands of the clock reach five.
What a day. What a long and tedious day.
What a day. What a long and tedious day.
His
assistant had been late again. The little bastard. Did he have to be so damned
sexy in the mornings?
Langley Johnson had a natural, just-rolled-out-of-bed look that ate at Garret. It wasn't fair. Did any other manager in the company have this to deal with? How did the young man find suits that clung to his tight little ass like that? Did he have them measured? Most men aimed for something a little less… revealing, perhaps.
That messy dark hair, those drowsy blue eyes, sleep-soft face… it was worse if he came skidding in with his tie half-off like this morning. He had a freshly-fucked look that fairly screamed to the ravenous, dangerous part of himself that Garret kept locked away most of the time.
It wasn't hard to keep his… proclivities contained, usually. He was from an old-fashioned family and worked for an old-fashioned firm. It had taken him many years to get where he was today. He wasn't at the top, exactly, though he was the manager of his section. He was settled, comfortable. That is, until his assistant stumbled in appearing debauched. Every time the man wandered in, late for work and looking used, Garret had to fight to keep from making sure the job had been thoroughly done.
Langley Johnson had a natural, just-rolled-out-of-bed look that ate at Garret. It wasn't fair. Did any other manager in the company have this to deal with? How did the young man find suits that clung to his tight little ass like that? Did he have them measured? Most men aimed for something a little less… revealing, perhaps.
That messy dark hair, those drowsy blue eyes, sleep-soft face… it was worse if he came skidding in with his tie half-off like this morning. He had a freshly-fucked look that fairly screamed to the ravenous, dangerous part of himself that Garret kept locked away most of the time.
It wasn't hard to keep his… proclivities contained, usually. He was from an old-fashioned family and worked for an old-fashioned firm. It had taken him many years to get where he was today. He wasn't at the top, exactly, though he was the manager of his section. He was settled, comfortable. That is, until his assistant stumbled in appearing debauched. Every time the man wandered in, late for work and looking used, Garret had to fight to keep from making sure the job had been thoroughly done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rocksand Hard Places
by
J.J. Massa
Micah and her enigmatic brother, Granite, are both manufactured people, grown in a lab, and a lot of people think that means they're not real, that they can't think or feel. Micah knows better, and she knows that her brother had feelings that run deep, which is why she's willing to help her fellow Science Officer and shipmate, Willy, who thinks her brother is the hottest thing around.
Granite has no problem sharing his physical love with Willy, but he isn't sure about emotions. Micah has the opposite problem with the man she's learning the art of love from; Commander West has all of the old prejudices against manufactured people, and Micah isn't sure how to fight them. Can she and brother Granite both learn how to express their love the right way, before the dangers of intergalactic war overwhelms them?
Excerpt:
Commander West James moved back through the single file line
until he was behind the eight people he was responsible for. As missions went,
this one had been smooth sailing. Except for the curious behavior of
Lieutenants Schmidt and Bayonne, it had been a completely predictable two days.
He listened as the two bantered, his eyes trained on
Lieutenant Bayonne’s flawless hindquarters. The exact curvature as her waist
met her hips which then flowed into those perfectly rounded cheeks…
Genetic tampering be damned, what a tush! Perfection
achieved!
He felt himself grow hard and heavy as he watched those lush
globes move while she walked, hips swaying in unconscious grace. He groaned
mentally--the way these uniforms molded themselves to the wearer, it would not
only be obvious that he was aroused, it would be clear to any observer that
he’d been circumcised.
In an attempt to control his body’s reaction to the sexy
form in front of him, he tried to listen to what she and Lieutenant Schmidt
were saying.
“Your column resin is NOT compacting,” she told Schmidt, “it
is being spatially frugal.”
West didn’t get it but the other man laughed. “Okay, how
about, your PCR products are NOT all mutant, they are just indulging in
unscheduled evolution.”
The delectable woman in front of West chortled. “Hang on,
hang on!” she laughed.
Just then Lieutenant Schmidt, who’d been immediately in
front of her, moved up to answer a question from another crew member.
Probably the question was, “What the hell are you talking
about?”
She slowed and turned to look up at the darkening evening
sky when she missed a step and stumbled on a rock. Before she could fall to the
ground, West snatched her against him. Her little stumble had caused a chain
reaction and rocks began to cascade from the ledge above them.
Thankfully, the gap between himself and Micah and the six
people in front of her should have prevented other crew members being caught
when the rocks began to tumble down.
Without thought, he turned her so that she was pressed
against the rock face while her shoulders, back, and thighs, and delicious
derriere were crushed against him. When the rock slide stopped, he stood, still
holding her.
One arm was looped around her waist and the other secured
her torso with his open palm flat on her chest. His splayed fingers grazed the
peak of her right breast.
“Commander, six accounted for here, you two all right?” the
security officer asked.
Sliding his hand two inches to the right, West cupped the
full hill of flesh. Slowly, he trailed his fingertips over the nipple and with
his thumb, he lightly pressed the sensor on her communications device.
He lowered his mouth to her throat and nuzzled her hair out
of the way, gently blowing on a stubborn strand. He felt her nipple pucker even
more tightly against his fingers. “We’re fine, we’re going to regroup and
assess. We’ll be there in a few.”
His lips caressed her soft throat as he directed his comment
over her shoulder where her communications badge was pinned. He felt her shiver
against him and knew she didn’t realize she had. He swept his left hand down
across her abdomen and up between her legs, lightly teasing her feminine mound.
She probably didn’t know she’d moaned aloud, too.
“You are fine, aren’t you, Lieutenant Bayonne? Hmmm?”
he murmured against the hollow spot behind her ear. He touched that soft warm
spot with his tongue very lightly.
Tastes like white chocolate. MMM mmm.
“I’m--I’m fine, sir, yes.” Her voice was a raspy husk.
He knew she could feel him smile against her ear. “I agree.
You are fine.”
Later
“Willy, you went where you did, and you’re just lucky to be
alive. He’s killed guys for less!” she
whisper-shouted.
“I know, I know, he told me himself,” the blond man moaned.
Their heads were together over their food as they lectured each other quietly
but intensely. “Yes, of course, dead is definitely bad. But that other man,
Mickey, you don’t know! He might do anything! He could hurt you or lock you up
and be justified.”
She opened her mouth to speak when a heavy hand landed on
her shoulder. “Everything all right?” a purring voice questioned, sounding
slightly concerned. Micah wasn’t fooled. She took a deep breath and looked up
at her brother.
“Um, yes, Granite, of course. I’m sorry, was I supposed to
meet you this morning?”
“No, tonight,” he clarified. She remembered now; supper.
They would have supper together. He turned to look at Willy. “You both look a
little pale.” He extended a large hand toward Willy. “Lieutenant Schmidt.”
Willy had no choice--he had to shake Granite's hand.
She watched nervously as her friend stood and lifted a trembling hand. It was
immediately engulfed in her brother’s larger one. She saw Granite slowly sweep
his thumb across the back of Willy’s wrist.
“I expect you to tell me if something’s wrong.” His molten
gaze bored into Willy’s and then turned on her.
“Um, of course, Granite.” He appeared to accept her promise
and then turned back to a shaking Willy’s hand.
“Ja selbstverständlich,” he said nervously. At
Granite’s arched brow, he amended, “I mean, yes, of course.”
Finally releasing Willy’s hand, Granite nodded. Both exhaled
a relieved sigh as the big man finally moved away.
“Willy?” she whispered still staring after Granite. When he
didn’t answer, she turned and looked at him. “Willy? Was he flirting with you?”
“Genau, Mickey, I think he was…” Willy’s voice
trailed off. He seemed stunned, frozen in place as he watched the security
officer stop and speak to someone before taking his leave through the exit
doors.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And that's it for now. See you again in just a bit. :)
J.J. Massa
www.jjmassa.com
Happy April 29th
Good Afternoon! (unless it's still morning where you are)
Sorry I'm late today. What a mixed-up day so far. Or just what
a day. I won't go into tons of details. I'm just glad you're out there. You guys mean a lot to me.
I plan to share a half a million --or maybe seven or eight--excerpts
and things with you today. I have recently been re-reading some of my old
stories while I've been working on the new ones. My current favorite is Civil Liberties. When the time comes to renew this book, I might ask if I can add to it. It's crazy, I know, and possibly conceited or something, but I love this book--and there's just so much I want say.
I couldn't name the people who inspired these characters except to say that Denny came from a DA candidate I knew in Florida, along with a person I saw on television once. Amanda--who barely has a cameo--is from the man's cousin. She had more money than anything else and used it to her best advantage. Last I knew, she used her inheritance to marry well, thus insuring that she never ran out of money or status. She was something else. And then there's Christian. He's a dichotomy of hard-boiled cop and soft-hearted vulnerability. Everything about him contradicts himself. I've known so many men that knowingly chose to follow their heads and their parents' expectations, instead of their hearts. Christian just does the best he can.
Starting at: $3.99
by J.J. Massa
When cop Christian Parker meets D.A. Denny at a bar and
takes him home, they have one steamy night of passion. That might be the end of
it, but a deposition brings Christian back into Denny's life. Denny tries to
deny his feelings for Christian, preferring to be a player, but when a family
tragedy brings Christian down, Denny is there to comfort him.
Everything that can go wrong for these two does go astray,
and Christian is ready to give up. When another tragedy threatens to tear them
apart forever, though, it might just be Denny who has to convince Christian
that he's ready to settle down. Can they struggle through everything life
throws at them and find a way to stay together?
Excerpt:
Once inside his apartment, Christian turned toward his
guest, determined to do things right.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked nervously.
“I want you, Christian,” Denny stated firmly, walking
right up to him, taking him by the shoulders and pinning him to the closed
door. His mouth came down on Christian’s as he murmured, “I want you every way
I can have you.”
Oh, Christian was spinning, he felt like he was floating
free, yet clinging. Such heady kisses, lips stroking over his, tongue seeking,
caressing, sucking on his and all he wanted to do was climb inside this other
man and stay there forever.
Before he knew what was happening, his tight t-shirt was
over his head and off, the top button of his jeans open, and long, elegant
fingers caressing him everywhere at once.
“Where’s the bedroom, Christian?” Denny murmured, and they
turned, moving toward it.
Shoes, socks, pants, boxers, all of it melted off, floated
away somehow and both men were naked when Denny tugged Christian toward the
large bed that dominated the room.
“I can…I can touch you, too, right?” Christian scooted onto the bed, pulling the
comforter back.
“I told you, I’m sorta new at this and…its stupid, but I
didn’t know if there were rules.”
Denny grinned. “There are rules,” he said, sitting facing
Christian, his hand stroking through the hair on his chest, fingers teasing a
nipple. “You can touch me, if you want, but you have to tell me if you do or
don’t like something. Do you have lube? Condoms?”
The question sent a thrill, and a spark of fear through
Christian. This was real. The man he wanted was really going to make love…have
sex with him. It was real.
“In the drawer,” Christian nodded, his words a dry croak.
“Hey,” Denny murmured, arms sliding around Christian,
drawing him down on the bed to lie facing him. “It’s okay, relax.”
Denny wasn’t giving this up, this beautiful young body, so
clean and cute, so hot and handsome. No, but he would calm his skittish tiger,
and then have his way with him. When Denny’s hard cock brushed against
Christian’s half-hard shaft, the younger man groaned, his erection growing
again
.
~~^~~
*Much Later (to prove there's angst)*
Excerpt:
It didn’t really surprise Denny when he heard her voice on
the line. He and Amanda Arbuckle had known one another for a number of years.
They’d been on again-off again lovers from the beginning. Causal friends,
casual sex.
“Denton, how are you my dear?” she gushed enthusiastically.
He could practically see her sitting in one of her spindly, Victorian chairs,
holding her telephone oh so properly, her scheduling book on her lap ready for
her to jot down the date and time he would be squiring and then bedding her.
“I’m just fine, Mandy, how are you these days?” She hated
when he shortened her name, but he chose to interpret it as a mark of their
friendship that she let him use the nickname.
He wanted to demand she just cut to the chase, but that
wasn’t how these things were done. Though he had no intention of attending
whatever soiree she felt she couldn’t possibly miss, nor did he have any desire
to roll around in her silk sheets, it was bad manners simply to say so.
“I’m so glad to hear that, I must say! You were spotted on
your own at the country club looking positively morose!” Her tone changed to
one of empathetic sadness. “You know how much your happiness means to me,
Denton.”
And how much would my happiness mean to you if you knew I
was pining for another man, Mandy?
“You’ve always been one of my dearest
friends, Mandy,” he said, keeping his thoughts to himself. Since his dearest
friends knew little more about him than his name, job title and whatever they
read in the paper, that designation of friend carried little weight with
him.
“Of course I have, my dear,” she purred. “And that’s why I
want you to accompany me to Daddy’s company’s charity dinner the
Thursday after next. It’s formal, of course, but…”
“Mandy,” he interrupted her.
“…black tie is quite acceptable, and you always look
positively edible with your salt and pepper hair and…”
“Amanda!” he stopped her.
“Denton, you don’t need to shout,” she objected, a studied vein
of hurt clear in her voice.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mandy,” he apologized as expected.
“Very rude of me. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Well,” she continued to pout. “You might as well tell me
what has you acting so out of character.” And that right there clarified that
she didn’t know him and wasn’t his friend.
Denny knew himself to be controlling, aggressive, had an
intrinsic need to be in charge. The sweet, blond detective that liked it when
Denny held his chair, liked it when Denny rolled him over, touched him, fucked
him--he knew. Denny’s breath caught in his throat, the ache building in his
chest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll be back in about an hour with a different excerpt from a different book.
J.J. Massa
Saturday, April 28, 2012
My First Convention, News, etc
Greetings everyone! I'm posting from the Inaugural Steampunk Empire Symposium in Cincinnati, OH, today! So far the weather is gloomy, but the people are lovely, so that makes up for it. In the news, we have the release of The Night Shift's cover art, (that's the sequel to The Hanged Man's Ghost, and is due out around May), and my newish release, Crooked, hit cyber shelves earlier this month.I'm giving away a free signed copy of the Shifting Steam Anthology this weekend to the first person who finds me at the convention. You can check my twitter feed @MissouriDalton, for clues and such like. I am trying to be found at this juncture. Though clearly at the typing of this, I am bustled inside my hotel room.
Before I bid you adieu, for your reading pleasure an excerpt of The Night Shift!
The Night Shift
Sharp, sweet and smoky tendrils of scent followed us. The
stone floor beneath my feet was getting slick as Simon bled on it -- he ran
just in front of me. Behind us the howls were starting. Throaty, piercing
sounds that made your hair stand on end and burned into your memory as surely
as that time you walked in on your Great-Aunt Shirley in the bathtub.
Simon -- my
partner in this case and an unhealthily good looking young man several years my
junior -- had been injured during what had been supposed to be a simple
reconnaissance trip. The creatures behind us were ghouls; a nest of them had
gotten together in a section of the Old City, and we’d been trying to make a count
before taking affirmative action.
I wanted to
set fire to the whole damn complex, but somebody
overruled me.
“I see the
stairs!” Simon shouted over his shoulder.
I looked up,
spotting the sliver of sunlight that was our escape hatch. The ghouls wouldn’t
be able to follow us out into the light, thank God.
After a
moment’s thought, I caught up to Simon and slung him over my shoulder with a
grunt. “You see one, shoot.”
“Yes, sir.”
He wasn’t particularly surprised to be manhandled, I’d done it before -- not to
say the boy was injury prone but… He rested the butt of his shotgun against my
shoulder, and I went for the stairs. The howls were getting closer as I took
the first step, and Simon fired a warning shot that sent a sharp blow to my
shoulder as I absorbed the recoil. I ignored it for the time being and kept
going.
At the top
of the stairs I set him down, shoving him through the open doorway and turned
on the crowd of ghouls that had paused just out of reach of the sunlight. They
were ugly bastards. Unlike zombies, ghouls didn’t rot after they dug themselves
out of the ground -- they dried. It was particularly unattractive. Several of
them had huge distended stomachs to go with the long claws and pointed teeth.
They’d fed recently.
“Hi guys.” I
smiled and pulled the grenade I’d been saving out of my pocket. “Bye guys.” I
jerked the ring out and tossed the grenade amongst them, throwing myself out
the door, slamming it shut and running. “Fire in the hole!”
Simon took
off and the explosion went off about five seconds later, blasting bits of
building, and ghoul, into the air. Simon and I continued our retreat to the
van, climbing in and shutting the door. The reinforced panels would keep off
the worst of it, though I could hear the tinging as bits of stone and wood and
bone struck the exterior.
“That was fucking insane!” Simon snapped,
lounging against the wall of the van and panting. “You’re nuts.”
“Aw, it
wasn’t as bad as the siren in Humbolt Park and you know it.”
“One of
these days, Adder, you’re going to get me killed.”
“Not today.” I took a closer look at his injury, a nasty
gash along his side. “We’re heading to the hospital. Bronson, start her up.”
The
slender, salt and pepper redhead started up the van without further prompting
and took off fast enough to leave tire behind on the concrete. “You blew
something up again,” he complained.
“No
choice.” Well, there’d been a choice, but I’d liked mine.
“How bad is
it?”
I looked at
Simon, noting he had passed out. “He’ll be okay, just hurry.”
Simon
wasn’t particularly stalwart about pain, it seemed he’d pass out at the drop of
the hat -- if you didn’t know why. Simon had been diagnosed with narcolepsy,
because what was really wrong with him was too unbelievable for the medical
community.
“Is he
out?”
“Like a
light.” I maintained pressure on the wound. “I’m fine too, thanks for asking.”
“I assumed
you were, because you weren’t complaining.” He took a sharp turn that knocked
me into the wall. “Now hush.”
Bronson
wasn’t technically my superior; we were basically equals, but I still tended to
do as he said. For one, I was almost certain that if I pissed him off he’d
curse me. Bronson was, after all, a witch.
I refrained
from mouthing off and concentrated on keeping Simon from bleeding to death. All
in all, not a bad day of training.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Torquere Live Journal
HI Folks!
I just want you to know that I'm out here in Live Journal cyberspace, but there's some sort of technical issue. That's why I didn't post on my Torquere Live Journal Day as promised in my newsletter. I WILL be posting on the Romance for the Rest of Us Blog ! See you there!
J.J. Massa
I just want you to know that I'm out here in Live Journal cyberspace, but there's some sort of technical issue. That's why I didn't post on my Torquere Live Journal Day as promised in my newsletter. I WILL be posting on the Romance for the Rest of Us Blog ! See you there!
J.J. Massa
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
On Sale this Week
This week we have books by Lee Benoit, Jez Morrow and BA Tortuga on sale at 20% off!
Check them out!
Check them out!
New Releases for April 25
Upon witnessing a sultry, naked young man turn into a wolf after a car crash, Detective John Hamdon thinks he must be pretty messed up. When John's beautiful hallucination arrives at Chicago police headquarters as a new detective, John knows he's perfectly screwed. John can't tell anyone he saw the new man turn into a wolf when John doesn't believe it himself.
Detective René Bast from New Orleans is sexy, irresistible, and all wrong. John finds it tough to investigate a series of murders when he's sure he's riding shotgun with the perp. John knows his new partner has a past, but Bast's records got washed away by Hurricane Katrina. Even as John digs into Bast's ties to a Chicago crime lord, Bast won't stand still to be hunted. It's clear that John Hamdon is running from his own past. Bast turns the hunt around, even as he's falling for the man he may need to kill.
Pick up your copy today!
A storyteller steps off a pier and into a world of steampunk oddities, fearsome weapons, and a dangerous man. Promised fame and fortune by the country's largest weapons manufacturer, Cedo gratefully falls into the arms of Erus Veetu. Dark, dangerous and with nothing to lose, Erus shows him that Svenfur isn't all Cedo thought it was. For beneath the streets is a dark, gas lit world of slavery, human sacrifice, and deadly machines. With the machines waging war in the East, can Cedo stop the country's deadliest man from bringing it to the shores of England? Or is he too late to penetrate the cold exterior of his Master and halt the cogs and gears of progress?
Set in a Victorian world of sex, drugs and steampower, Mars on the Rise tells a dark, gritty story of what happens when our dreams come true. Whether we want them to or not.
Get your copy today!
Preston has never heard Paulo's safe word within a scene. When he does, everything stops, and Paulo and Preston are forced to confront a demon from Paulo's past. Paulo insists he's ready to move on, but the incident shakes Preston's confidence. To make their way forward takes courage and trust and... wax?
Originally published in Toy Box: Wax
Pick up your copy today!
The vamps from Long Black Cadillac are back and they're celebrating Christmas. Or at least Remy is, decorating the house he shares with Gryph with tinsel and ribbons. When Gryph finds a devilishly sexy use for the ribbon, Remy just has to share, sending a care package including it to Clay and Vance.
Originally published in Toy Box: Ribbons
Get your copy today!
Monday, April 23, 2012
How Do You Measure It?
Remember that song from the musical Rent?
Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred minutes,
Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred moments so dear,
Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred minutes,
How do you measure, measure a year?
I find myself singing that song in the kitchen. Always the kitchen. Never the shower, never anywhere else, just the kitchen. When I got to asking myself why, the answer was pretty obvious.
It's my dishes.
Every time I open the cupboard and look at my mish-mash of assorted bowls and dinner plates, I get feeling old. Weird, right? I guess I could have titled this blog post "What Makes You Feel Old?" but... it probably wouldn't have the same draw.
So, why do my dishes make me feel old?
Because I've been through so many sets. I really don't feel old enough to be on my third (plus) set of dishes. Part of the problem is that I'm a klutz and I've never owned a dishwasher. I tend to drop dishes while I'm washing them. And when enough plates get broken... well, what's a girl to do? You buy another set.
I bought my first set of dishes when I was a teenager, in anticipation of moving out of my mother's basement. The set was called "Italian Bistro" and it cost me $9.99 at one of those kitchen stuff stores.
The second set, I bought in my twenties. They were blue with kind of a raku-inspired glaze. I think I got them at Sears and I think they were $39.99? Something like that. Almost all of those pieces have since cracked or chipped.
After the blue ones, I gave up buying sets. Instead, I bought pottery from local artists. That's why I have way more bowls than anything else. Bowls are more common and usually cheaper than plates, when you're buying from potters.
Now every time I look into my cupboard, I don't just see dishes--I see a history. I see years of buying and breaking, of disposing and accumulating until all I have to show for myself is an eclectic mess.
And that's me in a nutshell--an eclectic mess. I measure myself in mismatched dishes, in Band-Aids of various shapes and sizes with yellowed paper casings coming apart at the seams, in odd socks and old underwear, in books I've read and books I've written.
How about love?
Seasons of love...
How do YOU measure, measure a year... or a life?
Hugs,
Giselle
--
Canada just got hotter!
Visit me online
http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/erotica
http://twitter.com/GiselleRenarde
Visit me online
http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/erotica
http://twitter.com/GiselleRenarde
Giselle has written hundreds of stories, including "Eclipse the Stars," a trans lesbian erotic short with all proceeds going to It Gets Better:
More about Eclipse the Stars: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=79_111&products_id=3353
Meme Monday: Online Shopping
What is the last thing you purchased online? Do you have a favorite place to shop online?
Coming this Week
Coming on Wednesday:
Chasing Shadows by Jez Morrow (Novella, M/M)
Full Frontal by Lee Benoit (Short Story, M/M)
Mars on the Rise by Rae Gee (Novel, M/M)
Twinkly Lights and Chicken Feet: A Vampire Christmas by BA Tortuga (Short Story, M/M)
Chasing Shadows by Jez Morrow (Novella, M/M)
Full Frontal by Lee Benoit (Short Story, M/M)
Mars on the Rise by Rae Gee (Novel, M/M)
Twinkly Lights and Chicken Feet: A Vampire Christmas by BA Tortuga (Short Story, M/M)
Thursday, April 19, 2012
A new kind of out
Hi friends!
I've been keeping my head down, being a good little professor, staying out of trouble. Well, mostly.
But then last Friday I trampled off to Boston to participate in an author panel at the Popular Culture Association / American Culture Association annual meeting. Here's the thing: the panel was romance writers and publishers, and I was appearing as Lee Benoit. In public. In an academic setting. I had never done that before (all my public author-related appearances have been strictly as Lee at Pride events and such; as Gaelan I don't have many conversations about the whys and wherefores of my fiction writing).
I was coming out. Again.
In case you're wondering, I was nervous. Then I got a load of who else was on the panel.
Radclyffe! (Pioneering lesbian romance author and publisher of Bold Strokes Books.)
Cecilia Tan! (Pioneering spec-BDSM author and founder/owner of Circlet Press.)
Judith Arnold! (Bestselling author of nearly ninety -- that's 90! -- mainstream romances.)
How did the inimitable Sarah Frantz, Romance section chair, host, and leading light in the academic study of popular romance, let defenses slip such that the likes of yours truly could crash the party? I was frankly delighted to be in the company of folks I've admired for a long time, and felt more than welcome and heard. The Romance area scholars in the audience were lovely and engaged, and Sarah moderated a lively discussion about the pleasures and pitfalls of contemporary romance writing and publishing.
Aside from juggling my RL and Lee B. business cards rather un-smoothly, I didn't have time or space to fret about the whole "OMG here I am as Gaelan AND as Lee being all authorish in an academic zone...YIKES."
Retiring country mouse that I am, I even found the cojones to join the group for supper! I was very brave and had a lovely time.
What's the bravest thing you've done recently? Comment here (about bravery, coming out in new ways, or just say 'hi') and in a week I'll randomly draw the name of one commenter to receive a $5 Torquere gift certificate. Please make sure I can reach you (that is, if your email isn't linked to your commenting ID).
Cheers,
Lee. Or Gaelan. We're all out here!
I've been keeping my head down, being a good little professor, staying out of trouble. Well, mostly.
But then last Friday I trampled off to Boston to participate in an author panel at the Popular Culture Association / American Culture Association annual meeting. Here's the thing: the panel was romance writers and publishers, and I was appearing as Lee Benoit. In public. In an academic setting. I had never done that before (all my public author-related appearances have been strictly as Lee at Pride events and such; as Gaelan I don't have many conversations about the whys and wherefores of my fiction writing).
I was coming out. Again.
In case you're wondering, I was nervous. Then I got a load of who else was on the panel.
Radclyffe! (Pioneering lesbian romance author and publisher of Bold Strokes Books.)
Cecilia Tan! (Pioneering spec-BDSM author and founder/owner of Circlet Press.)
Judith Arnold! (Bestselling author of nearly ninety -- that's 90! -- mainstream romances.)
How did the inimitable Sarah Frantz, Romance section chair, host, and leading light in the academic study of popular romance, let defenses slip such that the likes of yours truly could crash the party? I was frankly delighted to be in the company of folks I've admired for a long time, and felt more than welcome and heard. The Romance area scholars in the audience were lovely and engaged, and Sarah moderated a lively discussion about the pleasures and pitfalls of contemporary romance writing and publishing.
Aside from juggling my RL and Lee B. business cards rather un-smoothly, I didn't have time or space to fret about the whole "OMG here I am as Gaelan AND as Lee being all authorish in an academic zone...YIKES."
Retiring country mouse that I am, I even found the cojones to join the group for supper! I was very brave and had a lovely time.
What's the bravest thing you've done recently? Comment here (about bravery, coming out in new ways, or just say 'hi') and in a week I'll randomly draw the name of one commenter to receive a $5 Torquere gift certificate. Please make sure I can reach you (that is, if your email isn't linked to your commenting ID).
Cheers,
Lee. Or Gaelan. We're all out here!
Go Green Earth Day Sale!
It's Earth Day on Sunday and what better way to go green than to read an ebook? So we're offering 15% off your purchases from now through the end of day Sunday! Just put 'earth2012' in the coupon code box any time you check out at Torquere Books before Sunday at midnight to get 15% off your order.
Sale good now through Sunday April 22 at Midnight (est).
Celebrate Earth Day with an ebook from Torquere Press today!
Discount codes are provided as a courtesy to our customers. Torquere Press Inc. cannot be responsible for discounting purchases made before coupons/sales are announced, and cannot issue discounts to customers who fail to use the coupon or discount code during the purchase process.
Sale good now through Sunday April 22 at Midnight (est).
Celebrate Earth Day with an ebook from Torquere Press today!
Discount codes are provided as a courtesy to our customers. Torquere Press Inc. cannot be responsible for discounting purchases made before coupons/sales are announced, and cannot issue discounts to customers who fail to use the coupon or discount code during the purchase process.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
New Release Day
Trust, a Hammer story by Sean MichaelSubmissive Kerry has returned from Florida, broke, broken-hearted, and defeated after his master kicked him out. Lucky for him, private detective and old friend Frank finds him and drags him back to the Hammer where he gets a job washing dishes. He's doing the best he can when Top Bellamy sees him and is utterly charmed. Bellamy can tell Kerry's got trust issues, and he takes it slowly, befriending Kerry first, but he's determined to show Kerry that not all Doms are bad.
As the men fall in love, will they be able to overcome Kerry's past, or will Kerry find himself unable to trust?
Find out today!
Water and Steel, a Hammer story by Sean MichaelMarcus and Jim are back in this story where a simple shower turns into so much more when the razor is brought out. Can Jim let go and let Marcus have what they both need?
Originally published in Toy Box: Shaving
Pick up your copy today!
Wax On, Wax Off by Syd McGinleyTommy’s a great designer -- so why can’t he design the right commitment mark to show he’s Dr. Tanaka’s boy? As his deadline approaches, things only get worse when news -- the very best and the very worst -- from friends threatens to derail Tommy’s best intentions to please his Sensei.
Originally published in Toy Box: Wax
Get your copy today!
Monday, April 16, 2012
Meme Monday: Cut or Uncut
So...inquiring minds wants to know...
Do you have a preference between a man being circumcised or not? Why?
Do you have a preference between a man being circumcised or not? Why?
Coming this Week
Coming on Wednesday:
Trust, a Hammer story by Sean Michael (Novella, M/M)
Water and Steel, a Hammer story by Sean Michael (Short Story, M/M)
Wax On, Wax Off by Syd McGinley (Short Story, M/M)
Trust, a Hammer story by Sean Michael (Novella, M/M)
Water and Steel, a Hammer story by Sean Michael (Short Story, M/M)
Wax On, Wax Off by Syd McGinley (Short Story, M/M)
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Hammer Time!
My latest Hammer book is Solitary, which is currently #10 on ARe's Top Ten list!
Greg's on a downward spiral. He broke his back a few years into a promising stunt career, then his master died shortly after they began living a BDSM lifestyle together. He's just lost. So lost, that he can't keep a Master for more than two weeks. So lost that he's been arrested several times and is this close to winding up in jail. So lost that Master Oliver doesn't know what to do with him anymore.
In desperation, Oliver calls on his friend Appleton who lives in isolation in Northern Canada. Ap enjoys working with subs, and has both the time and the inclination to work with a lost soul like Greg. Not to mention, there's no way to get into legal trouble or run away from Ap's house given its location. So, Ap takes Greg in, hoping to help Greg find his center and himself again.
Will Greg find what he needs with Ap? Or will he find so much more?
Find out in this latest addition to Sean Michael's Hammer Club series.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
And The Curtain Comes Down...
Welcome to New Amsterdam: it's the NYC landscape, Chicago's political machine, and Gotham's darkness. Murder, mayhem, intrigue, and intimacy are the stock in trade on these city streets, and rarely is anything exactly what it seems.
The tale begins with Hearts Under Fire, continues in "The New Deal", follows Lucian in Winter's Knight, expands to different parts of the city in "Luck in the Making" and "Swing Shift, and will further unfold as the stories progress. Join me, H.J. Raine, and my co-author, Kelly Wyre, for a tour of leather, lust, and love.
Our books are available from Torquere Press and on Amazon, and both Hearts Under Fire and Winter's Knight will be available in print later in 2012.
Thank you so much for your time and interest today, and we're now signing out.
Much love and many thanks!
Kelly Wyre & H.J. Raine
Kelly's Blog
Kelly's Facebook
Raine's Blog
Raine's Facebook
Winter's Knight:
As the son of the infamous New Amsterdam city mayor, Lucian learned at an early age that power is king, love is for the weak, and a real man never has a use for tears or mercy. The only source of light in Lucian's formative years is Shea Ollivander, who gives Lucian the impetus to break free from his father's rule and leave the city. Shea is never far from Lucian's side, a friend and companion.
But after a lover dies despite Lucian's best efforts, Lucian returns home with a new purpose: build an empire of resources and men to destroy the sources of darkness that steal lives and souls. Shea's back in the city, too, and when three long years pass without contact, Lucian realizes he can't live without telling the man he loves that Shea is Lucian's only solace and reason for living.
When the inclusion of Shea in Lucian's life leads to a horrifying discovery of pain and suffering at the hands of the very evil Lucian wishes to annihilate, the prince of the underground realm must set his sights on a path of bloody vengeance to save his newfound lover from certain destruction.
Hearts Under Fire:
Ten years ago, Maxwell you-can-just-call-me Clark thought he would spend his life as a military man. But his world turned into a nightmare when a suicide bomber destroyed Clark's career. It's been a long road to recovery, littered with surgery, alcohol, and secrets, but Clark finally has peace. His bar, Glow, is the place to be in the city of New Amsterdam, the son of the mayor employs Clark as a confidential information man, and Clark’s side venture as part-owner of a BDSM club is quite the profitable release. Clark’s life is a good one, so long as no one gets too close.
Then a man walks into Glow who will forever change Clark’s rules and reality. Thinking Professor Daniel Germain is just another handsome face ripe for Clark’s kind of good time, Clark puts on his smoothest moves. When the professor turns him down, Clark goes on the hunt, and what he discovers shows him that even the deepest wounds can be healed by submitting to love.
"The New Deal" .
It's been a year since Clark and Daniel found one another in Hearts Under Fire, and the bartender and the professor have found harmony. However, Clark's work for Lucian Gray, the New Amsterdam Mayor's son and leader of an underground vigilante network, still continues, and it's not without danger. Clark knows it's only a matter of time before the risks become too great for Daniel to bear, and his prediction comes true when a BDSM scene turns into a captive discussion. Find out what happens when the men must balance life's passion with true love.
"Luck in the Making"
For Jeffrey Ross, life is all about disaster management and recovery. Even a ride on the subway presents its challenges. Thankfully, though, Jeffrey works for Maxwell Clark, who not only notices difficult struggles and brave deeds, he believes in easing the first by rewarding the second. And this Valentine's Day, Clark's decided that Jeffrey is long overdue for some sweet strokes of manmade good fortune.
"Swing Shift"
Valentine's Day is just another day in the line of duty for Officer Ed Sorenson: investigate a murder, save a life, file the paperwork. But when Ed has to step out of the closet to help an injured boy and to be a role model for the New Amsterdam Police Department, Ed finds unexpected solace in a man who understands what it takes to keep the city and its citizens safe.
The tale begins with Hearts Under Fire, continues in "The New Deal", follows Lucian in Winter's Knight, expands to different parts of the city in "Luck in the Making" and "Swing Shift, and will further unfold as the stories progress. Join me, H.J. Raine, and my co-author, Kelly Wyre, for a tour of leather, lust, and love.
Our books are available from Torquere Press and on Amazon, and both Hearts Under Fire and Winter's Knight will be available in print later in 2012.
Thank you so much for your time and interest today, and we're now signing out.
Much love and many thanks!
Kelly Wyre & H.J. Raine
Kelly's Blog
Kelly's Facebook
Raine's Blog
Raine's Facebook
As the son of the infamous New Amsterdam city mayor, Lucian learned at an early age that power is king, love is for the weak, and a real man never has a use for tears or mercy. The only source of light in Lucian's formative years is Shea Ollivander, who gives Lucian the impetus to break free from his father's rule and leave the city. Shea is never far from Lucian's side, a friend and companion.
But after a lover dies despite Lucian's best efforts, Lucian returns home with a new purpose: build an empire of resources and men to destroy the sources of darkness that steal lives and souls. Shea's back in the city, too, and when three long years pass without contact, Lucian realizes he can't live without telling the man he loves that Shea is Lucian's only solace and reason for living.
When the inclusion of Shea in Lucian's life leads to a horrifying discovery of pain and suffering at the hands of the very evil Lucian wishes to annihilate, the prince of the underground realm must set his sights on a path of bloody vengeance to save his newfound lover from certain destruction.
Ten years ago, Maxwell you-can-just-call-me Clark thought he would spend his life as a military man. But his world turned into a nightmare when a suicide bomber destroyed Clark's career. It's been a long road to recovery, littered with surgery, alcohol, and secrets, but Clark finally has peace. His bar, Glow, is the place to be in the city of New Amsterdam, the son of the mayor employs Clark as a confidential information man, and Clark’s side venture as part-owner of a BDSM club is quite the profitable release. Clark’s life is a good one, so long as no one gets too close.
Then a man walks into Glow who will forever change Clark’s rules and reality. Thinking Professor Daniel Germain is just another handsome face ripe for Clark’s kind of good time, Clark puts on his smoothest moves. When the professor turns him down, Clark goes on the hunt, and what he discovers shows him that even the deepest wounds can be healed by submitting to love.
It's been a year since Clark and Daniel found one another in Hearts Under Fire, and the bartender and the professor have found harmony. However, Clark's work for Lucian Gray, the New Amsterdam Mayor's son and leader of an underground vigilante network, still continues, and it's not without danger. Clark knows it's only a matter of time before the risks become too great for Daniel to bear, and his prediction comes true when a BDSM scene turns into a captive discussion. Find out what happens when the men must balance life's passion with true love.
For Jeffrey Ross, life is all about disaster management and recovery. Even a ride on the subway presents its challenges. Thankfully, though, Jeffrey works for Maxwell Clark, who not only notices difficult struggles and brave deeds, he believes in easing the first by rewarding the second. And this Valentine's Day, Clark's decided that Jeffrey is long overdue for some sweet strokes of manmade good fortune.
Valentine's Day is just another day in the line of duty for Officer Ed Sorenson: investigate a murder, save a life, file the paperwork. But when Ed has to step out of the closet to help an injured boy and to be a role model for the New Amsterdam Police Department, Ed finds unexpected solace in a man who understands what it takes to keep the city and its citizens safe.
Aaaand Just Like That, We Didn't Have a Book
Raine and I like to joke that it is, in many ways, a crying shame that Lucian and Shea didn't come together earlier in their lives. But then of course, if they'd been honest and chatted with each other long before our novel takes place, we wouldn't have had the book. So often is the case, yes?
But we still amuse ourselves with the "What ifs..."
*grins*
Lucian sipped his gin martini and gestured for another as Shea hopped onto the stool next to him.
"Guinness?" Shea requested, and the bartender flashed a smile at the geeky kid with unkempt curls before going to fill the order.
"Evening," Lucian murmured, cocking a brow at Shea, who wore a button-down that did nice things for his eyes and a pair of jeans that actually fit the skinny frame. "You're looking particularly fetching tonight. Date?"
Shea's flush was adorable, as usual. "Uhm, sort of. I mean... no. Not... just here to meet you."
Lucian watched Shea fidgeting with interest. He'd not appeared this nervous since that conversation they had back in junior year about virginity and how Shea should lose it. Lucian could admit now, some three years later and a year past the Raquelle-and-that-night-Lucian-cried scandal, that the chat was mostly to encourage Shea to seek his own sources of relief else Lucian's willpower cave and force him to do the honors. "Something on your mind?"
"No. Yes." Shea grimaced.
"How distressing, such equal opportunity for positive and negative."
Shea sighed. "Could ya not pull the imperial shit for three seconds?"
"Miracles do happen." Lucian inched closer, facing Shea with his legs crossed at the knees and concern lighting candles in the winter chill of Lucian's core.
"I was just... thinking."
"Saints forbid." Lucian would not touch Shea. Soothing that brow with a thumb was right out, as was taking the trembling hand lying on the bar. Entirely, thoroughly, completely OUT.
"You know about that Scene shit, right?"
Lucian restarted his heart when it stuttered, and thankfully his tongue did not follow the stammering suit. "Yes. I do."
"Right. So I was thinking about... maybe... trying some of--"
"Yes." Lucian drained his second glass in two gulps.
"Just to, you know, see if it would help with the--"
"Yes." Lucian hailed the absent-minded idiot bartender and gesticulated violently for the check.
"--stress, ya know? And so I was thinking maybe you could--"
"I will."
"Recommend someone--"
"Me."
Shea blinked. "But you don't like--"
"Yes, I do."
"You don't even know what I was gonna--"
Lucian sighed and grabbed Shea's collar. Lucian's best friend and single, positive motivator in life blinked cutely at him, seemingly made of big puppy eyes and tender everything. "Does it involve you, me, and anything Scene-related?"
"Er, yah?"
"Then I agree."
"But--"
"I will not have you unleashed hapless among the assholes out there, Shea. Not when I'm an option near and dear at hand." Lucian smirked. "And at whip. And flogger. And anything else you might want to let me try."
Shea gulped and continued to blush and blink. "I... er... but..."
"Finish your beer." Lucian laid down cash for the drinks.
"Wait a damned minute." Shea used the stern voice, and Lucian had the presence of mind to pretend it gave him pause and not merely an erection. "You play with... you like... I know, Raquelle, but he was a... so you--"
Lucian stopped the train wreck of Shea Logic with a sigh and a bruising kiss that got them catcalls and one gentleman deciding elsewhere was a better place to be.
Shea swallowed, gaze clouding. "Ya know, I really don't need the last few sips. Not as much as I... er... thought."
Lucian smiled, the world finally moving as it should on the axis of Lucian and Shea. "Good. Very, very good, sweet Shea."
But we still amuse ourselves with the "What ifs..."
*grins*
Lucian sipped his gin martini and gestured for another as Shea hopped onto the stool next to him.
"Guinness?" Shea requested, and the bartender flashed a smile at the geeky kid with unkempt curls before going to fill the order.
"Evening," Lucian murmured, cocking a brow at Shea, who wore a button-down that did nice things for his eyes and a pair of jeans that actually fit the skinny frame. "You're looking particularly fetching tonight. Date?"
Shea's flush was adorable, as usual. "Uhm, sort of. I mean... no. Not... just here to meet you."
Lucian watched Shea fidgeting with interest. He'd not appeared this nervous since that conversation they had back in junior year about virginity and how Shea should lose it. Lucian could admit now, some three years later and a year past the Raquelle-and-that-night-Lucian-cried scandal, that the chat was mostly to encourage Shea to seek his own sources of relief else Lucian's willpower cave and force him to do the honors. "Something on your mind?"
"No. Yes." Shea grimaced.
"How distressing, such equal opportunity for positive and negative."
Shea sighed. "Could ya not pull the imperial shit for three seconds?"
"Miracles do happen." Lucian inched closer, facing Shea with his legs crossed at the knees and concern lighting candles in the winter chill of Lucian's core.
"I was just... thinking."
"Saints forbid." Lucian would not touch Shea. Soothing that brow with a thumb was right out, as was taking the trembling hand lying on the bar. Entirely, thoroughly, completely OUT.
"You know about that Scene shit, right?"
Lucian restarted his heart when it stuttered, and thankfully his tongue did not follow the stammering suit. "Yes. I do."
"Right. So I was thinking about... maybe... trying some of--"
"Yes." Lucian drained his second glass in two gulps.
"Just to, you know, see if it would help with the--"
"Yes." Lucian hailed the absent-minded idiot bartender and gesticulated violently for the check.
"--stress, ya know? And so I was thinking maybe you could--"
"I will."
"Recommend someone--"
"Me."
Shea blinked. "But you don't like--"
"Yes, I do."
"You don't even know what I was gonna--"
Lucian sighed and grabbed Shea's collar. Lucian's best friend and single, positive motivator in life blinked cutely at him, seemingly made of big puppy eyes and tender everything. "Does it involve you, me, and anything Scene-related?"
"Er, yah?"
"Then I agree."
"But--"
"I will not have you unleashed hapless among the assholes out there, Shea. Not when I'm an option near and dear at hand." Lucian smirked. "And at whip. And flogger. And anything else you might want to let me try."
Shea gulped and continued to blush and blink. "I... er... but..."
"Finish your beer." Lucian laid down cash for the drinks.
"Wait a damned minute." Shea used the stern voice, and Lucian had the presence of mind to pretend it gave him pause and not merely an erection. "You play with... you like... I know, Raquelle, but he was a... so you--"
Lucian stopped the train wreck of Shea Logic with a sigh and a bruising kiss that got them catcalls and one gentleman deciding elsewhere was a better place to be.
Shea swallowed, gaze clouding. "Ya know, I really don't need the last few sips. Not as much as I... er... thought."
Lucian smiled, the world finally moving as it should on the axis of Lucian and Shea. "Good. Very, very good, sweet Shea."
Behind the Scenes: Winter's Knight
Hi again! This is Raine and Kelly here with behind the scenes information about our new novel Winter's Knight
We knew Lucian pretty well after his appearances in Hearts Under Fire, and knew that we were both going to take his POV for the whole book after a six month long edit-wrestle with HUF over POV issues.
However, we only knew a few pieces about Shea, mostly facts, not how he would react, what he would do, what exactly his mannerisms were, and what he now did. Kelly left Shea to me, and it was intriguing to build up who and what he was behind what he had to do to help make the book and the plot work. I gathered up pieces and bits of his past, recreated some of what he had to have gone through from my own experiences with BDSM gone very wrong.
The morning I woke up crying because I'd been dumped in the middle of a piece of Shea's past, I finally knew I had him.
What about you, Kelly?
Oh yes... I remember that morning. While I didn't wake up from a dream about Lucian, he was very much an active presence. Working out the mechanations of how he works, how his entire system works, and all the various web-weaving he does to make his city run smoothly was entirely too much God-complex kind of fun. Writing his and Clark's banter was fantastic. I knew I had it right when it made Raine giggle.
But some of my favorite things to write turned out to be the meltdown in the Rover and the ensuing visit to Clark and Daniel's townhouse. I was so worried about how in the heck to make this perfect man, this flawless worshipper to the gods of vanity, ego, and OCD, human. I loved giving him the stammer, the attacks, the fits he has when Shea is in danger or hurting. I don't think even Lucian understands just how much Shea really means.
Writing that into this novel was an incredible journey and study in the idea that your main character doesn't have to be loveable... he or she just has to be real.
Also, I'd like to point out that my favorite line is STILL the one about the eels...
Kelly Wyre & H.J. Raine
Find Kelly on Goodreads, LiveJournal, and Facebook.
Find H.J. Raine on Goodreads, LiveJournal, and Facebook.
Winter's Knight Extra
*stumbles in sleepily* Hey, Kelly, you left on the...
Oh. Hi there!
This is H.J. Raine with the Winter's Knight extra, a small snippet about Shea and Lucian several years before the book happens.
*lets the curtain rise*
"Stay."
Strength bellied by slenderness and perfect manicuring slid around Shea's wrist and held him in place more effectively than shackles. Shea Ollivander bowed his head.
"All right," Shea whispered. "I'll stay, Luke."
Shea turned toward the rival, companion, protector, and eventually the friend of Shea's life. Prince Luke had terrified everyone they'd known, either through the reputation of his corrupt father, Mayor Hendrick Gray, or through his own determined quest for power.
But not a shred of that perilous, imperious beauty remained in the man huddled between crisp thousand-count sheets, in a palatial apartment crowning the Northern Spire of Magellan Circle: an unthinking gift from an unloving father for a son who wanted nothing to do with him. Magnificent, richly appointed, and enormous, the living space was perfect for a single man who entertained for political reasons.
And lonely. Compared to the warm chaos of his parents' farmhouse and a family who loved their gay son, this place, for all its wealth, seemed so lonely to Shea. Sighing, Shea sat on the edge of acres of bed, running his free hand through his crew-cut hair.
"Lie down, Luke," he commanded gently, and was all the more surprised when Lucian, who ordered everyone else around, did as told. Lucian's midnight hair spilled over white pillows, exhaustion-bruised eyes flickered, and Lucian's features were cold, sharp enough to be chiseled from ice.
Longing rose in Shea to touch Lucian, but habit stayed the impulse. Shea had loved Lucian since fourth grade, but hiding it was second nature after watching Lucian successfully seduce prom queens, beauty pageant participants, and bad girls. The garbled story of the dramatic death of a cross-dressing prostitute who called himself Raquelle seemed unreal. Perhaps a beautiful boy who acted like a girl could capture Lucian's heart. Shea had no illusions about being the kind of beauty Lucian wanted, even on Christmas, such a gift seemed impossible.
Gently, Shea tucked Lucian in. Shea took his watch and glasses off one-handed, setting them on the nightstand, before toeing his shoes off onto the Persian rug. Lifting the covers, Shea swung in, expecting warmth, but found Lucian trembling with cold.
"Luke, sweetheart." Shea slid against cool cloth, and, without thinking, embraced Lucian.
To his shock and dismay, Lucian started to cry.
In all the twenty-some years they had known each other, Shea had never known Lucian to cry: not broken relationships, not a snapped femur, nor batterings by his father had ever squeezed a single tear from Lucian Gray. A warm trickle tickled Shea's throat, and he pulled Lucian closer, smelling cheap whiskey, the sourness of consequence, stale sweat, but underlying it all was the rich pure scent of Lucian.
"I... f-failed... Shea..." Lucian stammered between sobs. "He died, and I c-couldn't do a-anything..."
Firmly reminding his body that he was comforting a friend, Shea cradled the grieving Lucian and held the one man he truly loved through the long night.
Finis
Oh. Hi there!
This is H.J. Raine with the Winter's Knight extra, a small snippet about Shea and Lucian several years before the book happens.
*lets the curtain rise*
"Stay."
Strength bellied by slenderness and perfect manicuring slid around Shea's wrist and held him in place more effectively than shackles. Shea Ollivander bowed his head.
"All right," Shea whispered. "I'll stay, Luke."
Shea turned toward the rival, companion, protector, and eventually the friend of Shea's life. Prince Luke had terrified everyone they'd known, either through the reputation of his corrupt father, Mayor Hendrick Gray, or through his own determined quest for power.
But not a shred of that perilous, imperious beauty remained in the man huddled between crisp thousand-count sheets, in a palatial apartment crowning the Northern Spire of Magellan Circle: an unthinking gift from an unloving father for a son who wanted nothing to do with him. Magnificent, richly appointed, and enormous, the living space was perfect for a single man who entertained for political reasons.
And lonely. Compared to the warm chaos of his parents' farmhouse and a family who loved their gay son, this place, for all its wealth, seemed so lonely to Shea. Sighing, Shea sat on the edge of acres of bed, running his free hand through his crew-cut hair.
"Lie down, Luke," he commanded gently, and was all the more surprised when Lucian, who ordered everyone else around, did as told. Lucian's midnight hair spilled over white pillows, exhaustion-bruised eyes flickered, and Lucian's features were cold, sharp enough to be chiseled from ice.
Longing rose in Shea to touch Lucian, but habit stayed the impulse. Shea had loved Lucian since fourth grade, but hiding it was second nature after watching Lucian successfully seduce prom queens, beauty pageant participants, and bad girls. The garbled story of the dramatic death of a cross-dressing prostitute who called himself Raquelle seemed unreal. Perhaps a beautiful boy who acted like a girl could capture Lucian's heart. Shea had no illusions about being the kind of beauty Lucian wanted, even on Christmas, such a gift seemed impossible.
Gently, Shea tucked Lucian in. Shea took his watch and glasses off one-handed, setting them on the nightstand, before toeing his shoes off onto the Persian rug. Lifting the covers, Shea swung in, expecting warmth, but found Lucian trembling with cold.
"Luke, sweetheart." Shea slid against cool cloth, and, without thinking, embraced Lucian.
To his shock and dismay, Lucian started to cry.
In all the twenty-some years they had known each other, Shea had never known Lucian to cry: not broken relationships, not a snapped femur, nor batterings by his father had ever squeezed a single tear from Lucian Gray. A warm trickle tickled Shea's throat, and he pulled Lucian closer, smelling cheap whiskey, the sourness of consequence, stale sweat, but underlying it all was the rich pure scent of Lucian.
"I... f-failed... Shea..." Lucian stammered between sobs. "He died, and I c-couldn't do a-anything..."
Firmly reminding his body that he was comforting a friend, Shea cradled the grieving Lucian and held the one man he truly loved through the long night.
Finis
Early Morning Greetings With Side of Dragon's Breath
Look, it's before noon... that counts as "early" in my world.
*YAWN*...
*steps over dragon pen to get coffee*...
*holds cup over low-licking snore flames to keep it warm*
Howdy, cats, kittens, ladies, and gentlefreaks. Kelly Wyre here with much ado about all kinds of exciting things. First of all, we've got a book coming out today.
Something, something New Amsterdam... something, something Lucian Gray... something, something... darkside...
Ahem. More on that in a moment, I promise. For now, I bid you come join us over at the the lair! We'll be updating here, today, too, but that site will get more of the bounty.
And today's goodies include, among other things, a copy of the new book to a lucky commenter, extras, possible prompts, soundtracks, fan art, naked bodies, behind the scenes action, alternative plotlines, and all manner of craziness.
...which probably means I should steal my coffee back from the dragonlings and get started...
Much love & may it be well with you and yours!
Kelly Wyre & H.J. Raine
*YAWN*...
*steps over dragon pen to get coffee*...
*holds cup over low-licking snore flames to keep it warm*
Howdy, cats, kittens, ladies, and gentlefreaks. Kelly Wyre here with much ado about all kinds of exciting things. First of all, we've got a book coming out today.
Something, something New Amsterdam... something, something Lucian Gray... something, something... darkside...
Ahem. More on that in a moment, I promise. For now, I bid you come join us over at the the lair! We'll be updating here, today, too, but that site will get more of the bounty.
And today's goodies include, among other things, a copy of the new book to a lucky commenter, extras, possible prompts, soundtracks, fan art, naked bodies, behind the scenes action, alternative plotlines, and all manner of craziness.
...which probably means I should steal my coffee back from the dragonlings and get started...
Much love & may it be well with you and yours!
Kelly Wyre & H.J. Raine
On Sale this Week
This week we have books by AR Moler, H.J. Raine, Julia Talbot, Vic Winter, and Kelly Wyre on sale at 20% off.
Check them out!
Check them out!
New Releases for April 11
Winter's Knight by H.J. Raine & Kelly WyreAs the son of the infamous New Amsterdam city mayor, Lucian learned at an early age that power is king, love is for the weak, and a real man never has a use for tears or mercy. The only source of light in Lucian's formative years is Shea Ollivander, who gives Lucian the impetus to break free from his father's rule and leave the city. Shea is never far from Lucian's side, a friend and companion.
But after a lover dies despite Lucian's best efforts, Lucian returns home with a new purpose: build an empire of resources and men to destroy the sources of darkness that steal lives and souls. Shea's back in the city, too, and when three long years pass without contact, Lucian realizes he can't live without telling the man he loves that Shea is Lucian's only solace and reason for living.
When the inclusion of Shea in Lucian's life leads to a horrifying discovery of pain and suffering at the hands of the very evil Lucian wishes to annihilate, the prince of the underground realm must set his sights on a path of bloody vengeance to save his newfound lover from certain destruction.
Pick up your copy today!
How We Operate by AR MolerChris Kearney is a surgeon working the Emergency Room at a large hospital near the bad part of the city. After operating on and losing a teenaged patient, he runs into Drew Hayden, an undercover vice cop. Connecting over a kid who tried to get out of gang lifestyle and still died, the two men check each other out. When they run into each other at the grocery store, they are more than happy to reconnect and pleased to find that neither of them had read the signals wrong.
It’s hard for a cop and a doctor, especially an undercover cop and an emergency room doctor, to find time to meet, date and do all the other things a burgeoning relationship requires, but somehow Chris and Drew manage. Their lives are full and sometimes difficult. Will they get through the traumas and troubles of the first year and a half of their relationship? And, when they get there, what will the other side look like?
Find out today!
I'm Not Sexy and I Know It by Vic WinterWinston knows he isn't sexy. He isn't a stud, classically handsome, and he doesn't have rhythm. A night on the dance floor with a stranger proves otherwise, though. Can best friend Clark convince Winston that he's all the sexy a man could hope to be, off the dance floor as well as on it?
Find out today!
The Spice of Life by Julia TalbotWhen Brian brings home a plug with a red jewel at the base, his lover Colin lets him know exactly what he thinks of it, and it's nothing good. Brian's intrigued, though, determined to get Colin to wear the plug for him because just the idea of it makes him hot for some reason. Will he be able convince his lover to use the new toy, or has he wasted his money?
Originally Published in Toy Box: Plugs
Get your copy today!
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Omelette and Eggs for Easter (I know, it was on Sunday)
Hey, Torquere groupers! On Easter Sunday, my flashfic was posted to the Chicks & Dicks blog. I was challenged to write a little (um, it turned out to be more than a little) story for the holiday weekend. You take a look and let me know what you think. It's about Easter eggs and -- oh, you'll have to read it to find out more.
Mysterious...
Chicks & Dicks Blog
I'm a member of this blog and we're talking all kinds of things. This month's theme is GFY/OFY. Does my story fit?
Mysterious...
Chicks & Dicks Blog
I'm a member of this blog and we're talking all kinds of things. This month's theme is GFY/OFY. Does my story fit?
Coming this Week
Coming on Wednesday:
How We Operate by AR Moler (Novella, M/M)
Not Sexy and I Know It by Vic Winter (Short Story, M/M)
The Spice of Life by Julia Talbot (Short Story, M/M)
The Winter's Knight's by H.J. Raine & Kelly Wyre (Novel, M/M)
How We Operate by AR Moler (Novella, M/M)
Not Sexy and I Know It by Vic Winter (Short Story, M/M)
The Spice of Life by Julia Talbot (Short Story, M/M)
The Winter's Knight's by H.J. Raine & Kelly Wyre (Novel, M/M)
Monday, April 9, 2012
Meme Monday: Easter
Happy Monday!
Hopefully you all had a wonderful Easter weekend! So how did you celebrate the holiday?
Hopefully you all had a wonderful Easter weekend! So how did you celebrate the holiday?
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Happy Easter Sale!
It's Easter weekend! So we're offering 20% off your purchases from now through the end of day Monday! Just put 'easter2012' in the coupon code box any time you check out at Torquere Books before Monday at midnight to get 20% off your order.
Sale good now through Monday April 9 at Midnight (est).
Celebrate Easter with a book from Torquere Press today!
Discount codes are provided as a courtesy to our customers. Torquere Press Inc. cannot be responsible for discounting purchases made before coupons/sales are announced, and cannot issue discounts to customers who fail to use the coupon or discount code during the purchase process.
Sale good now through Monday April 9 at Midnight (est).
Celebrate Easter with a book from Torquere Press today!
Discount codes are provided as a courtesy to our customers. Torquere Press Inc. cannot be responsible for discounting purchases made before coupons/sales are announced, and cannot issue discounts to customers who fail to use the coupon or discount code during the purchase process.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
On Sale this Week
This week we have books by Missouri Dalton, JB McDonald and Sean Michael on sale at 20% off.
Check them out!
Check them out!
New Release Day
Dragon Whisperer by JB McDonaldGetting magically eaten by a dragon wasn't part of the plan. Really, there hadn't been much of a plan to begin with, but it had definitely involved more dragon slaying and less getting knocked unconscious. Even the unconsciousness wouldn't be so bad if it didn't push Ashe closer to death each time.
Katsu is worried sick at Ashe's descent. He's worried enough to find a dragon whisperer to help, despite the fact that he hates her. He hates her appearance, he hates her attitude, and he especially hates the way she's helping his lover when he couldn't. Despite this, he hopes she succeeds -- or soon Ashe won't be alive at all.
Pick up your copy today!
A Bird in the Hand, a Velvet Glove story by Sean MichaelKestrel makes sure everything runs smoothly at the Velvet Glove. He takes care of everyone, but who takes care of him? The Glove's Bartender Jim has some good ideas about making Kestrel happy, but when he asks Kes to join him on a date, will things go as he plans?
Originally published on the Turn of the Screw serial service and in the print book Velvet Glove: Volume 2
Get your copy today!
Crooked by Missouri DaltonNicky’s problems started six months into the job when his first partner, veteran cop Donny Myers, was killed and Nicky got tangled up with mob boss Cathan Kavanagh to get justice. Kavanagh didn't just want a few favors though, he wanted Nicky. Kavanagh drags Nicky down a dark and winding path of addiction and corruption. A transfer to homicide, and new partner Zeke might just be the trick to getting Nicky away from the poisonous gangster.
But things aren't what they seem on the surface. Kavanagh isn't exactly human, Zeke isn't exactly a cop and Nicky might just start believing--in fairies.
Pick up your copy today!
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Assumption of Desire Extra Excerpt!
I'm on East Coast time and I have small kids to shepherd at home, so this just about does me in for the day, though I'll respond to comments right up until I go to bed.
Just to thank everyone who's stopped by today, I'm putting up a little extra excerpt from Assumption of Desire. In this scene, Craig has joined Jesse at his 21st birthday party:
If you think you might like where this is heading, swing by and check it out today! And if you'd like to see more, I'll be on the TQ Livejournal on Thursday (where I might be brave enough to call for prompts!), and I post weekly to my blog, Every World Needs Love. (You can also pick up my other social media links there.)
Just to thank everyone who's stopped by today, I'm putting up a little extra excerpt from Assumption of Desire. In this scene, Craig has joined Jesse at his 21st birthday party:
After much giggling negotiation (and a quick head- count) it was decided that each guest present would be allowed to deliver one spank to the birthday boy.
"But wait," Shannon protested, grinning, "that's only eighteen! Who'll finish him off?"
Some ribald heckling accompanied her choice of words, along with a chorus of volunteers.
"Now hang on," Craig heard himself interject. "It's his birthday. Maybe Jesse should get to pick who gives him those last few smacks. After he's had a chance to sample everyone's efforts."
The suggestion was afforded a wild round of whistling and stamping that handily drowned out all other ideas.
Jesse crowed, "I like the way you think, handsome! Just for that, you can be first!" Jesse threaded the crowd to stand before Craig and then turned, thrusting his tight, round bottom out toward Craig. He looked back over his shoulder, blue eyes sparkling like a summer afternoon as his friends whistled and cheered.
Lust uncurled low in Craig's belly, hot and intense. The noise faded into a background hum. Craig met Jesse's eyes and found a similar hunger lurking behind the mischievous grin. Craig reached out and laid his hand on Jesse's ass, feeling its curve, the firmness of the muscle, the soft divot that marked the transition from glute to thigh. Jesse's mouth parted and his eyes fluttered closed, and the wanting squirmed in Craig's innards. He needed more from Jesse than the quick blow job that had been offered at their first meeting. Quite contrary to his initial assumption, Craig realized this boy would be amazing in bed: responsive and vocal and wanton. He wanted to explore every inch of Jesse's body and discover its secrets. He wanted to dissolve Jesse's affectations in sheer ecstasy and reveal the real man hidden underneath, to fulfill the promise of that blissful expression.
If you think you might like where this is heading, swing by and check it out today! And if you'd like to see more, I'll be on the TQ Livejournal on Thursday (where I might be brave enough to call for prompts!), and I post weekly to my blog, Every World Needs Love. (You can also pick up my other social media links there.)
Eye Candy
How about some eye candy? Cicking on these pictures will take you to where I found them...
So, which one was your favorite? What's your secret go-to place for smoking hot pics?
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| You can leave your hat on... |
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| They look so serious; I wonder what they're talking about? |
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| Mmm, check out that blissed-out look! |
So, which one was your favorite? What's your secret go-to place for smoking hot pics?
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