Archive for the ‘guest blogger’ Category
Guest Blogger: Amber Kell
Nov 21, 2011 
Filed under: free story, guest blogger, m/m
Today I’m welcoming Amber Kell to my blog. She is celebrating her birthday all month with prizes and a free read broken into 30 parts. Part 21 is here. If you need to catch up, go HERE for more info about all that’s going on with Amber this month.
Thanks for being here Amber and Happy Birthday!
Accidental Alpha #21
Shaking his head Stanley headed for Fenris’ bedroom. Only a minute later his mate followed practically on his heels.
“See you tomorrow,” Fenris called gleefully as he slammed the door behind them.
Stanley watched with amusement as the dark-haired man stripped out of his clothes almost quicker than the eye then threw himself onto the bed. His muscular form bouncing lightly as he landed.
“Come ravish me!” Fenris demanded.
Stanley threw back his head and laughed. Still smiling he approached the bed and sat down on the side. Fenris scooted over to give him a spot to sit.
Fenris raised a brow. “It’s kind of hard to ravish with you fully dressed. I don’t think you’re getting into the spirit of the ravishment. Do you need instructions, pictures, maybe finger puppets?”
Stanley pretended to give it some thought. “You have finger puppets?”
“Oh shut up and get naked!” Fenris said, rolling his eyes.
Leaning over, Stanley placed a hard kiss on Fenris’ mouth. He stood up and slowly slid apart the buttons of his shirt making sure his mate saw each piece of skin exposed.
“Tease.” Fenris’ husky tone and his hot gaze belied his complaint.
“Well if you don’t like the teasing…”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Did you see Mr. Happy?” he pointed down at this erection. “Just tease faster.”
Stanley shook his head. “I don’t think I can have sex with a man who calls his dick Mr. Happy.”
“I’ll name it Stanley-ass-seeker if you just get yourself over here and stop torturing me.”
It was difficult to remove your shoes and laugh hysterically at the same time. Stanley learned that the hard way as he tumbled to the floor.
“Oh that’s it.” Fenris jumped up off the bed. Growling he leaned down to reach his giggling mate. With a snarl he ripped off Stanley’s shoes. A loud tearing sound filled the room as Fenris’ claws shredded Stanley’s clothes and tossed the pieces aside. “Much better.” Fenris said, admiring his work.
He reached a hand down to help the Stanley up. With a yank, Stanley pulled Fenris down to the floor. Quickly, before Fenris could object, he rolled until Fenris’ hard body lay beneath him.
“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m the alpha, my mate.” Stanley let a low growl roll up his chest.
Fenris tilted his head, exposing his neck submissively. Licking a line up Fenris neck before biting hard at the base, between shoulder and neck. “I’ll be the one fucking you.”
“Yes, mate.” Fenris swallowed hard and the smell of lust practically burned the air with hits heat.
“Now for the important question of the night.”
Fenris’ eyes widened with surprise. “What question?”
“Where’s the lube?”
Fenris pointed at the table near the bed. “That’s why the bed location was so good,” he pouted.
“I could also bend your over your desk,” he nodded to the sturdy piece of furniture in the corner.
“Y-you could do that,” Fenris agreed, nodding.
Stanley wrapped a hand around Fenris’ hard shaft. “Or I could grab the lube, fuck you hard and not let you come until tomorrow.”
A soft sound, quiet whimper came from Fenris’ throat.
Stanley scooted off of Fenris and stood yanking his mate to his feet. “Or we could go with your idea,” he finished. “What do you think?”
Fenris’ pupils widened with lust. “Whatever you want mate?”
A smile spread across Stanley’s face. Leaning forward he whispered into his mate’s ear. “I love hearing those words from you. I might have to try all three.”
Fenris whimpered.
Guest Blogger: Xavier Axelson
Nov 8, 2011 Filed under: book recommendation, guest blogger, m/m, writing
Today I welcome back the alluring Xavier Axelson so grab some coffee or tea and a piece of pie and enjoy….
Phoning IT in
By Xavier Axelson
I came across a concept recently I thought I would share. While discussing a popular television show and the work that goes into the production of the show my friend said, “You can tell the actress is phoning it in.”
Qu’est-ce que c’est “phoning it in?”
Upon further discussion, it was explained as someone who is doing just enough to get by, or performing on autopilot. The zest is gone but you are so good at doing what you do you can offer 5% and get away with it.
Hmm, I immediately began to wonder how this can relate to writers and kept mulling the concept of “calling it in” over and over in my head until I was reminded of a writers group I led during the past summer.
I remember one writer who wrote beautiful corset ripping romances. Great sweeping things reminiscent of Gone with the Wind, if not a bit dramatic, definitely well written for someone of tender college age. My advice to this writer week after week was to be more “generous” with the story and character. If you are going to write a grand, epic romance then be generous with details and slow the pace down. It isn’t a race. Not every story has to be Gone with the Wind and over 1000 pages but I felt this writer’s style was lush and beautiful enough but was not matching the pace of the story they were hoping to tell. I realized it is easy as a writer to “phone in” details. I found certain elements of the romance to be typical of the genre and so tired I ached to relieve the words of their decade’s long slavery. Perhaps I am being difficult and asking more of myself as a writer than necessary. Are readers willing to go along with a story because the genre dictates what will and always happens next? Wrong side of the tracks hero pulls high society maiden from her society column and deflowers amid the wilds of her wealthy fathers estate? It’s been done and will be done again and again, and why not? The idea of phoning it in comes in to play when a write just rehashes the story with little deviation from a story told repeatedly from the beginning of romance. Readers can also be guilty of phoning it in from time to time. I’m guilty of this, believe me, I am far from reproach. I am an easy sell when it comes to books, but that’s another blog. Isn’t easy to just find a series of books or a particular writer and just keep going back for more? Do you really have to think about it? You know what is being served, all you have to do is show up, wipe your feet, sit down, and eat what’s being served. You know what the next course/chapter will be. You’re phoning it in.
I also marvel when on a Saturday night I drive by a chain restaurant serving mediocre food to find it packed. Line down the block, crowd control, no parking, and everyone feverishly awaiting their round of the same old same old. I look next store at the new Peruvian place maybe offering something more interesting and NOTHING. The place is empty. It’s a marvel. Are we afraid of disappointment? Is there a bit of laziness lurking within each of our over stimulated souls? After work, do we really want to have to worry about hitting up the new place when the spinach and artichoke dip at said chain is decent and the beer is cold?
I excite at new and different things and experiences. I ache to be the one to try a new restaurant and am one of those freaks who write down new books off my Amazon wishlist and carry it with me to the one or two bookstores left in existence.
It was recently I found myself phoning it in. Not as a writer, but as a reader. I realized I read about 26 books in a particular series with little space in-between each book to read something new. I decided one night I needed to stir things up, reached for a book in the polar opposite genre, and blasted thru said book in two days. Boy, I needed that. I understand the need to be satisfied, to not risk disappointment. Is there anything worse than reading a bad book or crappy movie? I get more disappointed in movies than books. I struggle to think of any on book I truly hated. Then again, I am an easy sell.
Blah blah blah, what’s he talking about anyway? Did he just call me lazy? Absolutely not! This is more a plea to myself to remember to kick in a little Neil Gaiman in-between my 1940’s British fiction and maybe a little Jane Austen in-between my Bram Stoker and Bunnicula. There’s nothing wrong with getting comfortable and seeking comfort from the familiar but as a writer I know I would die if everyday became the same and every one of my stories an expected collection of words with zero taste and no calories. I think of my novellas as a feast and you are my guest. So EAT. Eat it all and then ask for more. Generosity is a creative gift I hope to share.
Speaking of eating, and when am I not? Check out my latest novella, The Birches from Seventh Window Publications. An erotic culinary tale one reviewer says, “The story supersedes everything else and I think that is because it is so real.”
Feel free to come by website and say hello! There’s always trouble brewing there.
A taste of The Birches by Xavier Axelson
Blurb:
Perfection isn’t everything, although it’s everything Leo wants. His desire to become the perfect chef may keep him at the top of his class, but it drives his friends and family crazy while keeping love and passion on the back burner. That is until he meets Dock, owner and chef of the new and popular restaurant, The Birches. Although Dock isn’t a trained chef, Leo finds the food he cooks delectable and the man behind the food irresistible. The lessons taught at the hands of an untrained cook may be just what this uptight chef needs to let go.
Excerpt:
He pulled into the parking lot of The Birches and sat on his bike a minute. He felt nervous, like he was about to meet a celebrity and the self-doubt that plagued him made him queasy.
“You gonna sit outside or come in?”
Leo jumped at the sound of the man’s voice. He pulled his helmet off and looked around, but didn’t see anyone.
“Over here.”
Leo looked just past his left shoulder and saw a man emerging from the nearby woods that surrounded the little restaurant.
“Oh, hey,” Leo called out, his voice cracking.
“You looking for something to eat?” the man asked, coming closer.
Leo was shocked to find himself riveted to the spot, staring at the man who came towards him.
The man offered Leo a rough, calloused hand. “I’m Dock,”
“Hey,” Leo managed weakly.
“I was out back, picking blackberries, they grow wild around here. I thought they’d make a great dessert. Don’t know what kind of dessert, but how can you go wrong when you have stuff like this?” He said as he offered up a large, wooden bucket half-full of dark, purple black berries.
There were purple smears across Dock’s white tank top that seemed barely able to contain Dock’s impressive chest. There were several brown freckles on Dock’s shoulders, next to where the strap of tank top clung to his body.
“Lucky berries,” Leo said under his breath.
“What?”
Sweat ran down Leo’s back, he felt so nervous. For a brief moment, he thought of hopping on his bike and taking off. Instead he said, “Um, nothing, sorry, I just wanted to come by and–”
“You want to come inside and have an iced tea or something?” Dock asked, “It’s hot as hell out here and I know I need to cool off.” He swiped a hand across his face and left a smudge of blackberry juice across his cheek.
Leo’s heart was pounding, what was it about this place, this man?
Buy The Birches at Seventh Window or Amazon
You can find Xavier Axelson at his website, on Facebook, on Twitter and at his Examiner column.
Dinner with a Hero: Xavier Axelson
Oct 28, 2011 Filed under: book release, excerpts, guest blogger, m/m, recipes, sweet treats
Today we welcome my scintillating friend, Xavier Axelson. Xavier has a deep dark passion for food and he’s got yummy things to share with us.
I’ve been asked recently if I would ever consider writing a cookbook. This may be because every one of my books features food. Either being eaten, cooked, talked about, or used as an aphrodisiac, food features prominently in all my fiction. I didn’t even realize the trend until someone brought it to my attention.
You can imagine my pleasure at being asked to come up with a menu for Silvia Violet’s blog. The hardest part was deciding which of my characters I would cook for. Being that The Birches is about to be released and is ALL about food I’m going to prepare dinner for Dock. He is a self-taught cook and owner of The Birches and is the type of guy who would rather forget the rules when it comes to culinary and sexual pursuits. I’m feeding him a hearty but simple and yummy repast. I think he would appreciate the simple goodness behind these recipes, and would probably roll the dessert crust without his shirt on. Lucky us.
I would start by serving a Bibb Salad with Basil Green Goddess Dressing.
Followed by a Perfect Broiled Steak
Served with Baked French Fries
For dessert I would serve homemade Deep-Dish Apple Pie with Cheddar Crust
Swallow That!
If you’re still hungry and I know you are, here is an excerpt from my new release, The Birches available now from Seventh Window Publications.
Excerpt from The Birches
He pulled into the parking lot of The Birches and sat on his bike a minute. He felt nervous, like he was about to meet a celebrity and the self-doubt that plagued him made him queasy.
“You gonna sit outside or come in?”
Leo jumped at the sound of the man’s voice. He pulled his helmet off and looked around, but didn’t see anyone.
“Over here.”
Leo looked just past his left shoulder and saw a man emerging from the nearby woods that surrounded the little restaurant.
“Oh, hey,” Leo called out, his voice cracking.
“You looking for something to eat?” the man asked, coming closer.
Leo was shocked to find himself riveted to the spot, staring at the man who came towards him.
The man offered Leo a rough, calloused hand. “I’m Dock,”
“Hey,” Leo managed weakly.
“I was out back, picking blackberries, they grow wild around here. I thought they’d make a great dessert. Don’t know what kind of dessert, but how can you go wrong when you have stuff like this?” He said as he offered up a large, wooden bucket half-full of dark, purple black berries.
There were purple smears across Dock’s white tank top that seemed barely able to contain Dock’s impressive chest. There were several brown freckles on Dock’s shoulders, next to where the strap of tank top clung to his body.
“Lucky berries,” Leo said under his breath.
“What?”
Sweat ran down Leo’s back, he felt so nervous. For a brief moment, he thought of hopping on his bike and taking off. Instead he said, “Um, nothing, sorry, I just wanted to come by and–”
“You want to come inside and have an iced tea or something?” Dock asked, “It’s hot as hell out here and I know I need to cool off.” He swiped a hand across his face and left a smudge of blackberry juice across his cheek.
Leo’s heart was pounding, what was it about this place, this man?
Buy The Birches at Seventh Window or Amazon
You can find Xavier Axelson at his website, on Facebook, on Twitter and at his Examiner column.
Guest Blogger: Em Woods
Oct 18, 2011 Filed under: guest blogger, interview, m/m, shapeshifter
Today I’m welcoming the lovely Em Woods to my blog. So grab some coffee and sit down with us. Em, will you tell us about your latest release.
Eek. I haven’t had one of those in a while! But the last one was Jack’s Way, which debuted in the Saddle Up ‘N Ride anthology from Total-e-Bound Publishing early this year. It has since been released in single e-book, print, and audio…so pick your poison for some really yummy cowboy action. Overall, I think it has been my favorite published work so far. You can find out more here.
Of course, my most recent projects can be found every Monday with the Story Orgy when I post a new piece of whichever blog story I am working on. Right now that one is called Flying High – and is a paranormal shifter story about a butterfly Fae and his lynx shifter mate. It’s getting really good… *wiggles eyebrows*
What is your favorite genre to write? What other genres do you enjoy?
Ah, Silvia. You know my favorite genre is M/M. *grin* Of course, within that category I write mainly contemporary with a bit of paranormal.
Do you have a favorite character from one of your books?
It would have to be Graham. He’s a secondary character from Chasing Alex, which released last Christmas. I know that sounds odd that he’s a favorite, but I liked him so much (and had quite a few people asking about him!) that he got his own story which will be coming out this Christmas.
He is so intriguing and turned out to have quite a number of secrets. Graham isn’t as rough and tumble as he likes to appear and when Matt decides to knock down those walls – the fight is on. So to speak. LOL.
Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tried yet but you’d like to explore?
Hmm. I’ve written contemporary, cowboy, paranormal, shifter which are mostly M/M with even a sprinkle of M/F/M as a ménage tossed in there. And I’m good with that. However, my stories fall on the vanilla side of BDSM – and I would love to write a true BDSM story. I’m working my way to it, though. So we’ll see. *grin*
How do you make time in your life for writing?
Oh my gosh. Really? I have no clue. I just do it. It’s one of those things that I need to do or I’ll go stark raving mad. LOL. I am either up really late…or up really early to fit it all in. And I drink a lot of coffee. I think caffeine runs in my veins, honestly.
What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?
I love my Story Orgy pals, of course. Lee Brazil, Havan Fellows, JR Boyd and Hank Edwards. Our lovely camera girl, Jade Baiser, has even begun to do short flash fiction that will just rock your socks off.
Outside of that, I love Ava March, Stephani Hecht, Ryssa Edwards, TA Chase, Cameron Dane. And then there’s Nora Roberts, Christine Feehan, Anton Chekhov… well…there’s a few. *laughing* I really do love to read. And have a ton of authors that I will buy as soon as they come out – oh! Amber Kell is another one. And JP Bowie. Jambrea Jo Jones. And…And… (do you see? I am a lost cause!)
If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?
Chasing around behind my two sons. They are six and four. What a handful they are, but I wouldn’t have it any other way!
Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.
Loyal. Compassionate. Funny. Hard-working. Outgoing. Bossy (There! I said it. LOL)
Describe the perfect meal.
Lasagna. Yummy ricotta/mozzarella cheese layered with tender noodles and a fantastic Italian meat sauce….oh man. I want some. Right now.
If you were a dessert what would you be and why?
Cherry Pie. Do you see those six adjectives I used up there? Yeah, that how I imagine it looking. A whole lot of sweet with a tart kick at the end. *grin*
Thanks for joining us Em!
Excerpt: Jack’s Way by Em Woods
“Benjamin.” Joan’s urgent whisper scarcely made it out of the little black box on his desk.
He closed his eyes, wishing for the thousandth time that working for a high profile architecture firm in New Hampshire meant he could escape the big city drama. Setting his pencil down on his drafting table, he slid off his stool and pressed the two-way. “Yes?”
“Christian’s here.”
A loud crash from somewhere down the hall punctuated her statement. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his closed door. “That’s not possible. He’s still in treatment.”
“He’s in treatment, all right, but it isn’t the one where you get any kind of help.”
He blinked at the intercom, mute.
“Ben?” She was louder this time, more worried.
“What are you talking about?”
“For God’s sake. He’s drunk.” A second bang came from just outside his door at Joan’s desk. The line went dead.
Then, he didn’t need the open line to hear what his assistant was saying to his ex-lover. “You nutcase! Look what you just did to my desk.”
“Where’s Ben?” Christian’s drunken slur carried through the closed door.
“He’s not here. Take your fool self home before I call the police.” She was like a mother hen, all gossip and ruffled feathers. But don’t be the idiot who crossed her. She’d peck your eyes out.
“His car’s in the lot. I know he’s around.”
He didn’t want Joan caught in the middle of this. One thing had been consistent in his relationship with Christian—his ex was violent when he drank. Things usually ended in a nasty brawl because Ben wasn’t the pushover his ex liked to think he was. He had known after only two months of dating he wanted out.
It had taken another four to get it done.
When Christian had agreed to in-clinic therapy after yet another vicious argument, Ben had used the opportunity to make a clean break. That had been three months ago. He’d finally started to relax. Six months was a short-term relationship, after all, and Christian hadn’t so much as called.
Until now.
Ben was gripping the doorknob before he realised he’d even moved. He took one more deep breath before opening the door to take in the scene.
Joan’s back was to Ben and Christian wobbled on weak legs in front of her, poking her in the shoulder. He leant in, momentarily losing his balance before catching himself on her arm. “Where’s he at?”
“Right here.” Ben leant against the door jam, crossed one foot over the other. He cocked his head to the side. “What do you want, Christian?”“Benjamin.” Joan’s urgent whisper scarcely made it out of the little black box on his desk.
He closed his eyes, wishing for the thousandth time that working for a high profile architecture firm in New Hampshire meant he could escape the big city drama. Setting his pencil down on his drafting table, he slid off his stool and pressed the two-way. “Yes?”
“Christian’s here.”
A loud crash from somewhere down the hall punctuated her statement. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his closed door. “That’s not possible. He’s still in treatment.”
“He’s in treatment, all right, but it isn’t the one where you get any kind of help.”
He blinked at the intercom, mute.
“Ben?” She was louder this time, more worried.
“What are you talking about?”
“For God’s sake. He’s drunk.” A second bang came from just outside his door at Joan’s desk. The line went dead.
Then, he didn’t need the open line to hear what his assistant was saying to his ex-lover. “You nutcase! Look what you just did to my desk.”
“Where’s Ben?” Christian’s drunken slur carried through the closed door.
“He’s not here. Take your fool self home before I call the police.” She was like a mother hen, all gossip and ruffled feathers. But don’t be the idiot who crossed her. She’d peck your eyes out.
“His car’s in the lot. I know he’s around.”
Learn more about Em at her website, Facebook, or Twitter.
Guest Blogger: Lisa Worrall
Oct 11, 2011 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m
Today we welcome the fabulous Lisa Worrall. Lisa, tell us about your latest release.
I have two already released and one due at the end of this month. Chasing the Dream is an anthology with Patricia Logan, Sue Brown, GA Hauser and SammyJo Hunt, some of the best in the biz. Then we have No Strings Attached which has just been re-released this week by Dreamspinners which is about a guy who’s first venture into the underground club scene, goes better than he’d ever dreamed. And released by Silver on the 29 October is Forever Dusk, about Jonah, who gets talked into attending a vampire theme-club with his friend…and meets the club’s delicious owner, Sebastian.
What is your favorite genre to write? What other genres do you enjoy?
I really only write M/M. I used to write M/F, and am hoping to have another tiptoe through that genre, but M/M is really my niche. I have no idea why other than it comes to me the easiest and flows the easiest.
Do you have a favorite character from one of your books?
Oh, God yes…Carter Gray. Carter is one of the two main characters of Thirst which is being released by Silver in January. He is a cold, calculating vampire who finds himself in a whole heap of trouble when he literally falls over Detective Max Bowman in an alley after the detective has been attacked. And like any sensible vampire would do when faced with dessert….he picks him up and takes him home. I know…Carter had a little trouble with that one too. Seeing Carter go on this journey with Max and how the other man shows him that yes, he is what he is, but he is still capable of love and being loved in return. I loved him.
Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tired yet but you’d like to explore?
I’d like to explore a little F/F, but I’m not sure…I’m still thinking on that one…
How do you make time in your life for writing?
I’m a stay at home mum, and now the kids are both at school it’s easier, but as all writers know, you have to discipline yourself and strap yourself in that seat…or you’ll spend a lot of time thinking and not much doing
I do sooooo know how that goes 🙂
What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?
Stephen King is a stalwart favourite of mine. The way he draws you in and wraps you in a story, scaring the pants of you and also sending you on a whirlwind of emotions as well, never ceases to amaze me. In my genre, my favourites are Sue Brown, Chris Quinton, Patricia Logan, Lee Brazil and I’ve just read and insist everyone else does too, TJ Klune’s first release…Bear, Otter and the Kid. You have to read it – it was fantastic!
I’m about 3/4 of the way through Bear, Otter, and the Kid and it is blowing me away!
If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?
You are likely to find me *hangs head in shame* in front of the television watching the omnibus of Come Dine With Me. It’s an English show where five people, complete strangers to each other, cook a meal each over five days and the winner gets £1,000. I know! I’m sad and pathetic.
Or you’ll find me poking the kids while they’re on their DS’s and watching the TV, complaining that I’m bored and they won’t play with me.
Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.
Okay…this is where you tell me I have no business being a writer because I had to look up what an adjective is…I know…I get confused between nouns and adjectives
Me…ummmm….kind, generous, loyal, impatient, insecure, and my daughter’s favourite, squishy.
Describe the perfect meal.
No hesitation, no doubts, no queries…steak and kidney pie, mashed potato, onions and gravy. *Le sigh*
Mmmm sounds wonderful. Comfort food at it’s best.
If you were a dessert what would you be and why?
I’d be apple pie…because I can be slightly crispy on the outside…but when you get past it, I’m all gooey and squishy on the inside
Forever Dusk by Lisa Worrall
Blurb:
When Theo decides to drag Jonah to a fabulous new club, he reluctantly agrees. Five minutes inside Forever Dusk, a theme club for wannabe vampires, is more than enough for him — until he catches the violet gaze of the mysterious owner, Sebastian O’Keefe. Inexplicably drawn to the vision of tall, dark and mysterious, Jonah makes a decision that could change his life forever.
Excerpt:
“I believe the gentleman said he wasn’t interested.”
Jonah turned his head in the direction of the chocolaty voice and winced at the pull on his hair that the movement created. His assailant took one look at the owner of the voice and released him.
“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” the oaf slurred, obviously drunk. He turned back to Jonah and held his hands out in a placating gesture. “I should not have been so forward. I overstepped my boundaries. Please forgive me.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jonah said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the crowd that seemed to have assembled around them. He turned away and looked down at his beer, desperately willing the people to disperse so he could die quietly. He started when a slender hand fell onto his shoulder and he looked into eyes the color of which could only be described as violet, in a face so ethereally handsome that his mouth actually dropped open.
“I’m Sebastian O’Keefe, I am the owner of this establishment and I would like to extend my apologies for the way you have been treated this evening, Mr…?”
“Michaels, Jonah Michaels,” he replied, hoping he didn’t sound like a complete moron, because his tongue was currently stuck to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth.
“Mr Michaels, again, my apologies. Braden will furnish you with a drink on the house.” He motioned to the bartender. “Please, enjoy the rest of your evening,” Sebastian said politely with a nod of his head and turned away.
“Wait,” Jonah said on a rush of breath, not entirely sure what he was doing, but certain in that split second he didn’t want to stop listening to the lilting, musical quality of the man’s voice. “The least I can do is buy you a drink after you defended my honor.”
“Thank you, but no,” Sebastian replied, his violet gaze travelling over Jonah slowly from beneath lowered lashes. “I have some work to do in the office, and I don’t really care for alcohol.”
“A soda then?” Jonah blurted as the man turned away. “Tea, coffee… water?” He held out his hands in a hopeful gesture. “I’ve got a breath mint in my pocket…” /Way to go, Jonah, your best pick up line yet/. He smiled as Sebastian’s lips twitched and he tilted his head, gazing at the other man with his best hang-dog look. “Just one?”
“Very well, Mr Michaels,” Sebastian replied, “just one.”
“Please, it’s Jonah.” Indicating to the stool beside him, Jonah encouraged Sebastian to sit down.
“Then Jonah it is.”
They were only seated for mere moments, Jonah noted, when a cup of black coffee was put down in front of the other man and another microbrew to replace the one he had finished. He swallowed hard as he lifted his gaze and found Sebastian O’Keefe’s glittering eyes staring at him.
The man was quite basically the most gorgeous thing Jonah had ever laid eyes on. He was easily over six foot, slender framed, but he could see the muscles clearly defined beneath the close fitting black button down the man wore. Sebastian’s hair was jet black and fell to his shoulders in a silky curtain, the ends flicking up to rest on his shoulders, and bangs lay across his forehead. He had thick black brows above what, at first glance, could be mistaken for piercing blue eyes but, on closer inspection, the blue was that of cornflowers, lending a violet hue to his gaze. Violet eyes surrounded by long black lashes which would not have looked out of place on a girl, but didn’t feminize the man’s strong angular features in the slightest. His straight nose sat above full pink lips, and below that his chin was square and strong, giving a heart shaped appearance to his almost symmetrical face. Sebastian O’Keefe was, quite simply, beautiful.
Dinner with a Hero – Josh Lanyon
Oct 7, 2011 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m, recipes, sweet treats
Today, Josh Lanyon, a write I admire immensely, invites you to join two of my favorite heroes, Tucker and Elliot from Fair Game for a mouth-watering repast….
Cocktails
Lemon Drop Martinis
Ingredients
• 1/2 oz. Jose Cuervo Especial Gold T
• 1 1/2 ounces vodka
• 1/2 ounce triple sec (may sub Grand Marnier for extra kick)
• 1 teaspoon superfine sugar (to rim martini glass)
• 3/4 ounce fresh lemon juice
• 4 -5 ice cubes
• Twist of lemon
Directions
• Chill martini glasses in freezer for at least 10 minutes prior to serving.
• Place Vodka, Triple Sec, lemon juice and sugar into a cocktail shaker with 4-5 ice cubes and shake vigorously for 30 seconds.
• Run the lemon twist around the edge of the chilled martini glass and dunk in a small amount of sugar for a coated rim.
• Pour the strained martini into the chilled glasses and serve.
Hors D’Oeuvres
Roasted Eggplant and Tomato Bruschetta
Ingredients
• 1 French baguette, cut into 36 1/4-inch-thick slices
• 3 tablespoons olive oil 2 halved garlic cloves
• 1 medium eggplant
• 1 large seeded, diced tomato
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon shredded fresh basil leaves
• Salt and pepper
Directions
• 1.Cut a French baguette into 36 1/4-inch-thick slices and brush lightly with 1 tablespoon olive oil. Toast in a 350° oven for about 7 minutes until golden. Rub the toasts with 2 halved garlic cloves.
• Lightly coat 2 large baking sheets with vegetable oil cooking spray. Slice 1 medium eggplant lengthwise 1/4 inch thick and arrange the slices on 2 baking sheets. Brush with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Roast for about 10 minutes, until softened. Cut the eggplant into 1/2 -inch dice and transfer to a large bowl. Add 1 large seeded, diced ( 1/4 inch) tomato, 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, 1 tablespoon olive oil and 12 shredded fresh basil leaves. Season with salt and pepper.
• Mound the eggplant-tomato mixture on the garlic-rubbed toasts and serve.
Soup
Butternut Squash & Apple Soup
Ingredients
• 2 Tbs. unsalted butter
• 1 yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1 jar (2 lb.) butternut squash puree
• 1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored, thinly sliced
• 2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 2 small bay leaves
• 3 tsp. kosher salt
• 1/2 cup crème fraîche
• 1/4 tsp. ground coriander (optional)
• 1/4 tsp. grated peeled fresh ginger (optional)
• Fried sage leaves for garnish
• Freshly ground pepper, to taste
• In a Dutch oven or stockpot over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the onion and cook until soft but not browned, 12 to 15 minutes.
• Add the butternut squash puree, apple, broth, bay leaves and salt and stir to combine.
• Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low. Partially cover the pot and simmer for 30 minutes.
• Remove the bay leaves and discard. Add the crème fraîche.
• Using an immersion blender, puree the soup directly in the pot until smooth. Stir in the
coriander and ginger.
• Ladle the soup into warmed bowls and garnish with fried sage leaves and pepper.
• Serve immediately.
Main Course
Tucker’s Cedar Plank-Grilled Salmon with Garlic, Lemon and Dill
Ingredients
• 1 (3 pound) whole filet of salmon, skin on, scored (up to but not through the skin) into serving pieces
• 6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 4 large garlic cloves, minced
• 1/4 cup minced fresh dill
• 2 teaspoons sea salt
• 1 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest, plus lemon wedges for serving
Directions
• Soak an untreated cedar plank (or planks) large enough to hold a side of salmon (5 to 7 inches wide and 16 to 20 inches long) in water, weighting it with something heavy, like a brick, so it stays submerged 30 minutes to 24 hours.
• When ready to grill, either build a charcoal fire in half the grill or turn grill burners on high for 10 minutes.
• Meanwhile, mix oil, garlic, dill, sea salt, pepper and lemon zest; rub over salmon and into scored areas to coat.
• Place soaked cedar on hot grill grate, close lid, and watch until wood starts to smoke, about 5 minutes. Transfer salmon to hot plank, move salmon off direct charcoal heat or turn burners to low, and cook covered until salmon is just opaque throughout (130 on a meat thermometer inserted in the thickest section) 20 to 25 minutes or longer, depending on thickness and grill temperature.
• Let sit 5 minutes; serve with lemon wedges.
Roland’s Cauliflower with Mustard-Lemon Butter
Ingredients
• 1 small head of cauliflower (about 1 3/4 pounds)
• 1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
• 6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons whole grain Dijon mustard
• 1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
Directions
• Preheat oven to 400°F. Butter rimmed baking sheet.
• Cut cauliflower in half, then cut crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick slices. Arrange slices in single layer on prepared baking sheet; sprinkle with salt.
• Roast until cauliflower is slightly softened, about 15 minutes.
• Meanwhile, melt butter in small saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in lemon juice, mustard, and lemon peel.
• Spoon mustard-lemon butter evenly over cauliflower and roast until crisp-tender, about
10 minutes longer. DO AHEAD Can be made 2 hours ahead. Let stand at room temperature. If desired, rewarm in 350°F oven until heated
through, about 10 minutes.
• Transfer cauliflower to platter. Sprinkle with parsley and serve warm or at room temperature.
Dessert
Warm Chocolate Cakes with Mascarpone Cream
Ingredients
• 8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped, plus shavings for garnish (optional)
• 1 1/2 sticks (6 ounces) unsalted butter
• 3 large eggs, plus 3 large egg yolks, at room temperature
• 1/2 cup sugar 1/4 cup cake flour
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 vanilla bean, split and seeds scraped 2 tablespoons light brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
• 1 cup mascarpone (8 ounces)
• 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
• About 1/2 cup brandied cherries or kirsch-soaked sour cherries
Directions
• Preheat the oven to 375°. Coat six 6-ounce ramekins with butter, and dust lightly with flour. Set the ramekins on a sturdy baking sheet. In a microwave-safe bowl, melt the chocolate with the butter; let cool.
• In the bowl of a standing electric mixer fitted with the whisk, beat the eggs, yolks and sugar on high speed until pale and fluffy, about 4 minutes. Using a rubber spatula, gently fold in the chocolate, then fold in the cake flour just until no streaks remain.
• Spoon the batter into the prepared ramekins and bake for 15 minutes, until the cakes have risen, the tops are dry and the centers are slightly jiggly. Let stand for 5 minutes.
• In a bowl, beat the cream with the vanilla seeds, brown sugar and lemon zest until soft peaks form. Add the mascarpone and lemon juice and beat until blended.
• Run the tip of a small knife around each cake to loosen it, then unmold onto plates. Spoon the mascarpone cream onto the cakes and garnish with the brandied cherries and chocolate shavings.
Bailey’s Irish Coffee
Ingredients
• 1 (12-ounce) wine glass, preheated
• 10 ounces brewed coffee
• 1 shot glass of Bushmill’s Irish whiskey
• 1 1/2 jiggers Bailey’s Original Irish Cream
• 1/4 cup heavy cream, whipped until stiff peaks form
• Ground cinnamon or chocolate shavings (optional)
Directions
• Pour whiskey into heated glass
• Add hot coffee
• Add the Bailey’s and stir well to blend
• Top with a mound of whipped cream
• Sprinkle with cinnamon or shaved chocolate.
• Serve responsibly.
Fair Game by Josh Lanyon
Buy at Amazon, ARe, or Carina Press
Watch the book trailer.
Blurb:
A crippling knee injury forced Elliot Mills to trade in his FBI badge for dusty chalkboards and bored college students. Now a history professor at Puget Sound university, the former agent has put his old life behind him—but it seems his old life isn’t finished with him.
A young man has gone missing from campus—and as a favor to a family friend, Elliot agrees to do a little sniffing around. His investigations bring him face-to-face with his former lover, Tucker Lance, the special agent handling the case.
Things ended badly with Tucker, and neither man is ready to back down on the fight that drove them apart. But they have to figure out a way to move beyond their past and work together as more men go missing and Elliot becomes the target in a killer’s obsessive game…
Excerpt:
On the sidewalk outside the house, Tucker preempted Elliot with a harsh, “I don’t want to hear it. Personally if someone did pop the kid, I like Daddy-o for it.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong.”
‘The guy is a bona fide homophobe – with a violent streak to boot. Have you had a look at his record? Assault charges were filed against him three times back when he and your pop were buying their tie-dyed tickets to Woodstock.”
Tie dyed tickets? Despite the face that there was little to find funny in any of this, Elliot’s mouth twitched. “What happened to the assault charge?”
“Maybe the same thing that happened today. Someone convinced someone else against his better judgment to drop them.”
Elliot met Tucker’s flinty gaze. He shook his head. “The guy’s a lawyer, Lance. A very successful lawyer. And he’s a grieving father. Where do you think a court’s sympathy is going to lie? With a model citizen like him or a hard-ass like you?”
Tucker’s gaze grew adamantine. He opened his mouth, but Elliot said, “It’s a rhetorical question. I know the answer if you don’t. Can you give me a lift back to the college?”
After a moment, Tucker nodded curtly.
The drive back to campus was accomplished in record time and dead silence. As the tires bit into the chapel parking lot, Tucker glanced Elliot’s way and growled. “You okay?”
Elliot gave him a narrowed look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“What happened back there?” Tucker glared at Elliot’s knee, which Elliot had been unconsciously rubbing.
“Nothing.” That was obviously not true. Elliot qualified, “I rammed my knee into the counter.”
Tucker opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. He shrugged.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” He was not fine, of course. He felt drained, depressed, and his knee was pulsing to a steady, painful beat, flares of anguish surfacing through damaged nerves and muscles and tendons when and where he least expected.
He was sorry he’d ever agreed to look into Terry Baker’s disappearance. What the hell use had it been?
“Good,” Tucker clamped out, pulling up beside Elliot’s Nissan. “Great.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” Was there some reason he would be talking to Tucker later? Elliot wasn’t sure, but he knew that he couldn’t say a final goodbye to Tucker here and now. He didn’t dare examine that conviction, but it persisted all the same. This was not the time or the place to face never seeing Tucker again.
He reached for the door handle, and Tucker said suddenly, urgently, “Elliot?”
He turned his head and Tucker’s big hand landed ungracefully on his shoulder, drawing him back as his warm mouth landed on Elliot’s.
For an astonished moment Elliot was aware of nothing but the feel of Tucker’s hard, insistent lips on his, the almost desperate pressure, the taste, the scent, the disturbing reality of Tucker’s desire.
“Elliot,” Tucker whispered, breaking contact for a moment. The heat of his breath was against Elliot’s face, hypnotizing, bewildering. His mouth touched Elliot’s again, and Elliot could feel his name – and a question – formed against his skin. Just that. Just Elliot?
There was a terrible familiarity to it. A reminder that he had not forgotten nearly enough, nearly what he had reassured himself was far, far behind him. It was all there, buried deep, but still flickering, like a short in his wiring, like an imprint on cell memory. Genetic code and the secret message was Tucker. The sudden unbearable sweetness of it made his breath catch and his eyes sting. Turned his guts to liquid with furious longing for that touch – that touch and no other.
The unfairness of it, the outrage of it, gave him the necessary strength to pull away. Tucker stared back at him, pupils dilated, breath uneven.
“What the fuck?”
Tucker’s chest rose and fell.
“Where did that come from?”
Still nothing from Tucker, and Elliot’s anger soared.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You think after two years you’re just going to – to pick up where we left off? What the hell’s the matter with you?” Elliot pushed Tucker. Shoved him back into his corner behind the steering wheel. Tucker made no move to defend himself.
“You’re what’s the matter with me,” he cried. “Why did you have to come back?”
“I’m not back.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I’m working for the Bakers.”
“Bullshit. Bullshit, Elliot.”
“You think I got involved because you’re on this case?”
“No. I know better than that. Maybe you’ve developed selective amnesia, but I haven’t. I remember the way it went down. I’m not the only one who made mistakes.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re so goddamned stubborn. And you always have been.”
At some point it would be funny, the fact that the two of them were sitting there glaring at each other, panting and nearly inarticulate with anger and lust and complete, utter confusion. But it was not funny now. Now it was merely one more painful, pointless instant in a day of painful, pointless incidents.
“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, Tucker,” Elliot threw back. He yanked open the car door, jumped out. “Eventually you’ll convince yourself I walked away.” He slammed the door shut with all the energy and anger he could summon.
He stood there rubbing his knee impatiently, absently, as Tucker’s car sped from the parking lot.
Learn more about Josh Lanyon at his website.
Guest Blogger: Johnny Miles
Sep 27, 2011 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m
Today I welcome the alluring Johnny Miles to my blog. So grab some coffee and settle in. Johnny, would you tell us about your latest release.
Sure! I’d be happy to. My latest release is “Learning To Samba” and it’s about a 48-year-old romance novelist still mourning the loss of his long-term lover. Brian Oliver comes to New York to reacquaint himself with his former life, his sister, and to find a new purpose in life. What he didn’t bank on, however, is João Da Silva; a 25-year-old Brazilian bombshell Brian falls in love with.
What is your favorite genre to write? What other genres do you enjoy?
So far the only genre I’ve written has been porn, erotica and m/m romance. There are others I want to branch into but haven’t found the courage to do so yet. As for other genres I enjoy reading, there are all kinds: drama, horror, thrillers. Believe it or not romance is probably the last on my list. I know, I know. Considering what I write it’s a bit weird, huh?
Do you have a favorite character from one of your books?
I don’t know that I have a favorite. I like them all for various reasons. However, if I had to choose one I identify with the most it would have to be Brian Oliver from “Learning To Samba.”
Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tired yet but you’d like to explore?
Ohhh, yes! Sci-fi. Fantasy. Horror. Thrillers. I’d love to try a psychological horror or something paranormal. Someday soon, I will!
How do you make time in your life for writing?
While I was unemployed it was easy. I had nothing else to do. However, now, since I’m working from home, I have to schedule writing time. It’s been VERY difficult but I’m hoping to get better at managing my time. I need to make it more of a priority because it’s what I want to do more than anything in the world; to make a living from putting words together. I can think of no better way to make a living! Except maybe…well, no. That’s illegal. Hmmmm. What could Johnny be thinking about?
What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?
I like to read all kinds of things. Lately I haven’t been able to read much. By the time the day is over it’s either too late in the day or I’m too sleepy after nearly 12 hours in front of the computer. But I still do read! Off the top of my head, some of my faves are J.K. Rowling, Armistead Maupin, Val McDermid. Lately I’ve added Michael Jecks to that list, too.
If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?
Mostly sleeping.
Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.
Sympathetic. Empathic. Sensual. Ummmm. Six? How’s about we leave it at 3 for now. After all, it’s a magical number! At least that’s what someone once told me.
Describe the perfect meal.
The perfect meal I think would be perfectly simple. Pizza, a bottle of chianti, my partner and maybe some friends, with plenty of laughs. That sounds delightful!
If you were a dessert what would you be and why?
A canoli of course! Hard and crunchy on the outside, rich and creamy on the inside. I love canolis! 🙂
Excerpt from “Learning To Samba” by Johnny Miles
No matter where I live or how far I roam, New York was, is, and probably always will be the center of my universe. Even after moving away close to twenty years ago — though I’d visit at least once a year — I considered New York to be my home, despite the gloom and grime, the sticky summer heat, and the overwhelming sensory overload that family can be.
New York is where I get grounded. It’s where I reconnect when I’m feeling lost. Is it any wonder, then, I would come back here once I chose to take control of my life again?
The last time I’d come back was after my partner, Joshua, died. Seven years was a long time to be away, and as much as I loved New York, I admit it felt odd to be back in the city after traipsing through Europe for so long, almost as if I were a stranger in my own land. Much had changed. It had been a while since my parents had passed on, I no longer had friends in the city, and my sister and I hadn’t exactly parted the best of friends after Joshua’s funeral.
But I suppose there comes a time when we all want to go back to recapture something we might have lost along the way.
In Brooklyn I didn’t feel so painfully lost and without direction. I could remember who I used to be and where I came from. It was the one place that could remind me of who I wanted to become and where I wanted to go next. It was also the one place that never failed to remind me of why I chose to leave in the first place.
* * * * *
After the plane landed at JFK, I took the Air Train to Jamaica Station. From there, I hopped on the subway and went into Manhattan, then on into Brooklyn — to Flatbush and the Borough of Kings.
The closer I got to home, the more nostalgic I became. Armed with my backpack — which contained my laptop, e-reader, and a couple of days’ worth of clothing — I allowed myself several hours to retrace some of the steps I’d once taken during my high school years: Prospect Park and Grand Army Plaza, Brighton Beach and Coney Island, my high school which looked so much smaller than I remembered it.
When I got off at the train station near home, I walked down Newkirk Avenue, past my first apartment — a one-bedroom, on East Eighteenth Street. From there, I walked to the bagel shop at the corner of Foster. The owner was ancient now, his face lined and furrowed, but he was still there. It didn’t surprise me. Some people never leave Brooklyn. They never dream for more than what they have beyond their four walls. Or maybe they do and think they can’t do anything about it.
Joshua used to think they lacked courage.
I ordered a heavily buttered bialy and a chocolate drink, the way I used to when I was in high school, then sat on the bench across from the store. The melted butter ran down my fingers as I sank my teeth into the bagel. I closed my eyes and savored the taste, being in the moment and breathing in the brisk air.
I opened my eyes and took a swig of the chocolate drink. It didn’t taste anything like I remembered, and I wondered if it was the flavor that had changed or me.
After polishing off the bialy, I took a final swig to wash it all down, then tossed the rest of the drink in the trash. I wiped my fingers with a napkin from inside the now almost see-through bag.
All that butter, I thought. Definitely not good for the heart or the battle of the bulge that had become increasingly more difficult to keep at bay. Once, I could eat anything and not worry about how I looked.
I was still trim and in decent shape. Not many men could say that at my age.
Forty-eight.
With a sigh, I wondered what had happened. When had my youth slipped away? I’d been so busy planning and doing that I hadn’t noticed I no longer had the spontaneity I once possessed. Or had it possessed me?
Nothing mattered then but my impetuous desires and the passions of life. Now I longed for simpler days when I knew everything and, without thought to consequence, would say, “Fuck it! I’m outta here. You’re all a bunch of douche bags.”
Everything had been sunny then. One continuous spring and summer I took for granted.
I looked up at the sky, and the weak autumn sunshine felt good on my face. It seemed as if it tried to assure me.
Something’s coming. All you have to do is wait.
I took a deep breath, exhaled, and cautiously hoped it was so. The last seven years had been far too painful being alone. Getting older didn’t make it any easier. Especially when all the beautiful young men I admired or who struck a spark in my loins all seemed to consider me ancient.
But there was more to it than that.
I hadn’t written a single word since Joshua died. Each time I faced the blank computer screen, each time I sat down to try, characters, scenarios, and plots escaped me. I’d become unmotivated, uninterested, and lacking in focus.
The worst thing was that I had begun to think I’d dried up. That maybe after a dozen books and a couple of movie options, I had no stories left in me.
And if I couldn’t write anymore, if I couldn’t tell a story and move myself while doing it, then what was the point…of anything?
* * * * *
I turned the corner onto Westminster Road and stopped suddenly. Would my sister, Kay, even be there? I hadn’t called to let her know I was coming, I hadn’t e-mailed, and I hadn’t bothered to send her a note via snail mail. She probably didn’t even know I’d been out of the country.
And what makes you think she wants you in her house after all those hurtful things?
No. Not her house. Our house. The house we both grew up in.
I pushed my fears down to where all the others lived and looked at my wristwatch. Three in the afternoon. There was a good chance no one would be there. Then I remembered Kay had chosen to continue a practice begun by our mother. She used to leave a key beneath a flowerpot beside the wicker couch on the porch.
Old, comforting memories. Funny how they always made me feel like a child again.
I shifted my backpack and started walking. Just a few more houses, on the right.
As I slowly made my way, a strange sensation — something like a band — wrapped around my chest and back. My lungs felt as if they didn’t want to expand. I forced myself to breathe. To relax. Everything would be fine.
What if I didn’t find what I was looking for? What if the direction I needed, what I had lost, remained in the distance and out of reach? Or worse yet. What if I never found it again? I tried to tell myself it wouldn’t be like that. New York never failed me. Nor did it cease to amaze me. I might not get exactly what I wanted, but New York always gave me what I needed — new experiences and a recharge, even if it sometimes came at a cost. There was always a give and take.
The thought made me think of Joshua, as the city always did, and a refrain from his favorite song — Billy Joel’s “New York State of Mind” — popped into mind.
It was so easy living day by day, out of touch with the rhythm and blues…
I started to cry, secretly ashamed that after all this time I wasn’t over Joshua completely. Unable to stop the tears that escaped me, I was at least grateful there were no witnesses.
Damn you, Joshua! Why did you have to leave me alone? Why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you quit smoking?
But what was the point of asking such questions? He’d died seven years ago now. And no matter how many people said it got easier, that I’d get over him, I never had. You never get over someone being gone. You just get used to it.
I still missed Joshua. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day. On my birthday. On his birthday. On our anniversary. When the day dawned blue with promise and when it was gray and dreary.
Holidays were the worst. Kay would call months in advance, even after the fight we’d had. She always left a message in a tone that sounded almost apologetic. She’d invite me to come and stay with her and the kids, but I never did. Not just because of our fight. I just couldn’t be around people. Loneliness was sharp enough, alone during holidays. While in the company of others, however, it was so sharp it sometimes took my breath away.
Strange how one person can invade every single cell of your body with his essence, his scent, his spirit.
Something fluttered in my heart as I stood at the curb, and I could have sworn Joshua was near. Goose bumps broke out on my flesh, the way they did when Joshua so much as smiled at me. A tender breeze, like a soft kiss, caressed my skin.
Let me go, the breeze seemed to whisper. I leaned into it with longing, as if it could possibly stroke my cheek the way he once did.
I still felt lost without him, possessed by his memory. I knew it was time to move on, but how do you put behind more than twenty years of knowing and loving someone? Sharing your dreams, thoughts, and ideas. The good times and bad. The waxing and waning cycles of sex — sometimes even the occasional third partner to help spice things up.
It was time to put myself back out there, but I was frightened and nervous. Except for the sometimes-necessary hookup, I hadn’t dated anyone since Joshua died. In fact, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to date again. My single days hadn’t exactly been fun-filled.
But I wanted someone to hold me at night and tell me everything would be all right. Someone who would keep the monsters from crawling out from under the bed. Only I didn’t look forward to sitting in a bar, glancing into my drink or off in the distance with a detached stare, avoiding another’s gaze for fear of seeing my own desperation reflected in his eyes.
There was also the gnawing realization that of the three men I’d met in seven years, none of them had been able to satisfy my sexual cravings.
“Excuse me. Can I help you?” someone called in an accent I couldn’t place. Surprised, I sucked air sharply into my lungs and quickly wiped my tears away.
A young man in his midtwenties stood before me. He was shirtless, his hands on narrow hips, groin thrust toward me. His skin, the color of brown sugar, was naturally smooth. It looked like it would feel soft under my touch. He was toned and defined with round sculpted shoulders, perfectly shaped limbs, and washboard abs. Two veins, one on either side of his belly button, ran down on a slight angle and hid somewhere beneath worn and faded, low-riding jeans that left much to my imagination, several inches below a flat navel.
“Are you…looking for someone?” The young man’s question forced me to glance away from his groin and up into his face. He had full and luscious red lips, slightly parted. They appeared as if he had been sucking on a cherry ice pop.
He had thick, incredibly dark hair, somewhat tousled, and an almost Roman nose.
But it was his eyes that caught my breath and refused to let go. They glittered and sparkled with much life, curiosity, and wonder. Yet something dark and tumultuous, almost broody and intense, lurked near the surface.
I knew on the spot he was trouble, or perhaps just what I needed.
Learn more about Johnny at his website, his blog, and his yahoo group.
Dinner with a Hero: Lee Brazil
Sep 23, 2011 Filed under: book recommendation, guest blogger, m/m, recipes, sweet treats
Today I have charming fellow food enthusiast, Lee Brazil here to share a dinner in honor of his delectable hero, Mischa Blake…..
I’m so thrilled to be asked to contribute to this feature, because food is my other hobby. Writing, reading and cooking are the three things I cannot live without. There’s always a meal of some kind in my books, and one of my favorite things about Keeping House was finding recipes for Mischa to use. Mischa’s never cooked a thing in his life, see?
Just like he’s never cleaned, done laundry or anything else.
However, he’s resourceful.
And he has the internet.
Google to the rescue.
In honor of Mischa, my menu today is all from Google, all easy to prepare and tasty.
Appetizers: Angels on Horseback
“Bacon-wrapped oysters are seasoned with smoked paprika and roasted until crisp in this addictive appetizer.”
INGREDIENTS:
12 shucked oysters
12 slices bacon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon smoked paprika
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
DIRECTIONS:
1. Preheat an oven to 450 degrees F (230 degrees C). Set a wire rack into a small baking dish.
2. Wrap each oyster with a slice of bacon, and secure with a toothpick. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, paprika, and parsley; set onto wire rack.
3. Bake in the preheated oven until the bacon is crispy, 10 to 12 minutes. Serve immediately. They aren’t as good once they get cold.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © 2011 Allrecipes.com Printed from Allrecipes.com 6/23/2011
Salad: Tomato and Avocado Salad
“A very simple, very delicious salad, that makes a perfect starter for dinner parties.”
INGREDIENTS:
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1 pinch ground black pepper
1 avocado – peeled, pitted and sliced
2 small tomatoes, each cut into 8 wedges
DIRECTIONS:
1. In a small bowl, whisk together the mustard, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and pepper. Arrange the slices of avocado and tomato alternately like the spokes of a wheel on one big serving plate, or individual plates. Drizzle lightly with the dressing, and serve immediately.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © 2011 Allrecipes.com
Entrée: Steak au Poivre
4 (3/4- to 1-inch-thick) boneless beef top-loin (strip) steaks (8 to 10 oz each)
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons whole black peppercorns
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/3 cup finely chopped shallots
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
1/2 cup Cognac or other brandy
3/4 cup heavy cream
Preheat oven to 200°F.
Pat steaks dry and season both sides with kosher salt.
Coarsely crush peppercorns in a sealed plastic bag with a meat pounder or bottom of a heavy skillet, then press pepper evenly onto both sides of steaks.
Heat a 12-inch heavy skillet (preferably cast-iron) over moderately high heat until hot, about 3 minutes, then add oil, swirling skillet, and sauté steaks in 2 batches, turning over once, about 6 minutes per batch for medium-rare.
Transfer steaks as cooked to a heatproof platter and keep warm in oven while making sauce.
Pour off fat from skillet, then add shallots and half of butter (2 tablespoons) to skillet and cook over moderately low heat, stirring and scraping up brown bits, until shallots are well-browned all over, 3 to 5 minutes.
Add Cognac (use caution; it may ignite) and boil, stirring, until liquid is reduced to a glaze, 2 to 3 minutes. Add cream and any meat juices accumulated on platter and boil sauce, stirring occasionally, until reduced by half, 3 to 5 minutes. Add remaining 2 tablespoons butter and cook over low heat, swirling skillet, until butter is incorporated. Serve sauce with steaks.
Courtesy of http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Steak-au-Poivre-
Dessert: Grilled Pineapple with Vanilla Ice Cream
Grilled Pineapple
Ingredients
1 ripe pineapple
1/2 cup melted unsalted butter
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon grated lime zest
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
Ice cream
Directions
Preheat the grill to high. Oil the grate.
Cut the rind off the pineapple, leaving the green leaves intact. Cut the pineapple in half lengthwise through the leaves as well as the fruit to obtain 8 slender wedges of pineapple with leaves intact. Trim the core off each pineapple wedge. Have the melted butter in one shallow bowl; mix the sugar, lime zest, cinnamon and cloves in another bowl.
Dip each wedge of pineapple first in melted butter, then in the sugar mixture, shaking off the excess. Grill the pineapple wedges until browned and sizzling, 5 to 8 minutes per side. Transfer the pineapple wedges to plates or a platter. Serve with ice cream.
©Television Food Network G.P.
Keeping House, Truth or Dare #1
Available at
Breathless Press
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Blurb:
Mischa knew his brothers were up to something. He didn’t know it would lead him to Donovan Holloway and change his carefree lifestyle forever.
Donovan Holloway, advertising executive, newly made vice president of the company where he’s worked for twenty years, grew up in a free love hippie commune taking care of the parents who should have been taking care of him. He’s worked hard to put himself through school and achieve the American dream- all he’s ever wanted was a normal family life- house in the suburbs, two cars, two kids, a shaggy dog. A family to come home to, to care for, to care for him has been his dream since he was a small boy.
Mischa Blake is the green eyed, liberally pierced, black haired, Mohawk wearing spoiled youngest son of a Hollywood producer and his actress wife. Mischa has made a terrible mistake. In a fit of childish pique he’s accepted a dare from his older brothers. The dare? Live on his own supporting himself completely for a year without accessing his trust fund. No problem. Except Mischa has never worked a day in his life, hasn’t finished college, and has absolutely no skills that he can bring to the table.
So when he sees Donovan’s ad for a housekeeper/gardener, he has nothing to lose by applying, because really…how hard can it be?
Excerpt:
“So, tell me why you want to work for me.” That should give him pause.
“I don’t. My brothers dared me to get a job, and it’s been a lot harder than I expected. I just came from a McDonald’s where the manager had a guy with a BS cleaning the toilets and an MBA flipping burgers. The economy sucks.” Mischa sounded dejected.
“Ahh.” He wanted a job on a dare? What the hell? Who told a prospective employer they didn’t want to work for them? “Let me tell you a little about the parameters of the job.”
Mischa gazed at him quietly, waiting. Maybe the daunting aspects of the task would send the kid the way of the first applicant. “You’ll be responsible for preparing meals. I eat breakfast at six, daily, take a boxed lunch to work, and expect a minimum of a three course dinner. Sometimes I have guests, and occasionally dinner parties.” He didn’t really, but threw out the possibility anyway. For a moment, he was distracted by the amusing vision of a room full of elegantly clad clients and coworkers staring in horror as a Goth-garbed Mischa, hair spiked and piercings glittering in the candlelight announced that dinner was served.
“Got it. Cooking. I can do that.” Mischa seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as Donovan of that fact.
“You’ll have to do the shopping. I don’t have time for things like that. Then there’s the cleaning. I expect the house to be spotless at all times.” He assiduously ignored the fact that the house was currently anything but clean.
Mischa wasn’t inclined to be so kind, though. He glanced pointedly around the kitchen, at the stack of dirty dishes in the sink, the debris from several takeout meals on the counter tops, and the unpacked boxes of kitchenware. “OK. Clean. I can do that.”
“I need the house put together, too. The boxes,” he waved around, “unpacked and stuff put away. The walls painted, furniture ordered and assembled and put in place.”
Mischa looked shocked. “You trust me to decorate your house?”
“No. I have the plans here.” He thumped the red leather-bound album that held the dream house drawings he’d labored on over the years on the marble counter. “I need my housekeeper to coordinate the workmen, decorators, deliveries and so on.”
More nods. “I can do that.”
Donovan stared helplessly at the kid. Stop calling him kid. It’s too pervy. What else? “References? Do you have references?”
Mischa bent over and the tight black t-shirt rode up as the skinny jeans inched down. Damn. All that creamy white flesh, hairless and smooth tempted him to reach out and touch, to examine the texture and resiliency. He wondered if there were any more shiny piercings hidden under that severe black garb.
“Hey,” Mischa was waving a handful of papers in front of his face, and Donovan flushed slightly. Could Mischa tell he’d been staring inappropriately at his exposed skin?
“I’ll, ahh, I’ll keep these. I need to call on them later.” He searched desperately for something, anything to turn the kid-man off the idea of working for him. Recalling the indignation and vitriol of the second applicant, he took a shot in the dark and threw it out there. “I’m gay.”
No response.
“I said I’m gay, a homosexual, a flamer.”
No response. Just inquiring green eyes locked on his face. Someone must have told the kid–man that eye contact was important.
“I sleep with other men?” Shit now he was making statements as questions.
The pierced brow rose slightly at that in an enigmatic gesture, but no response was forthcoming.
“This is a live in position. You don’t mind working for and living with a gay man?”
Finally, Mischa smiled. Donovan’s heart lurched at the sexy sweetness of that smile. The tiny silver hoop in his lower lip glinted seductively. Wonder how that piercing would feel when he pressed his lips to Mischa’s? It certainly drew attention to the swollen plumpness of the full red lower lip. Yeah—he really needed to get laid this weekend.
“No. I don’t mind working for a gay man, as long as you don’t mind hiring one.” Mischa’s smile was now a broad grin, and he settled back more comfortably on the barstool, as though he were suddenly making himself at home.
Sudden sympathy overrode Donovan’s concerns. Why not give the kid a chance? If Martin Weston hadn’t hired him to work in the copy room at his company all those years ago despite his being an underage gay hippie he wouldn’t be where he was today. He’d probably regret this, but it looked like the skater-Goth-boy/man had talked himself into a job. And the corporate advertising executive was sentencing himself to a series of cold showers.
To learn more about Lee, visit his blog.
Guest Blogger: Hank Edwards
Sep 20, 2011 Filed under: guest blogger, m/m, paranormal, vampire
I’m thrilled to have the charming and talented Hank Edwards as my guest today. Hank, tell us about your awesome new release.
My latest release is “Bounty,” the first book of my Venom Valley Series. It’s a self published book in which I combine a number of different genres: paranormal, Old West, m/m romance, and a little m/f.
I fell in love with this story and couldn’t put it down!
What is your favorite genre to write? What other genres do you enjoy?
I really seem to gravitate toward contemporary romantic comedy. And even when I write outside that genre, I have to add a bit of sass from one or more character. I do enjoy all genres, but have to say that comedy and suspense / thriller are my favorites. Crazy, isn’t it?
Do you have a favorite character from one of your books?
You know, I do. In my Charlie Heggensford series of books, I introduced a woman at the end of book one, Fluffers, Inc., named Bernice Tallipepper. She is a divorced mother of 4 adult age children who moved to LA from Minnesota and started working the front desk at Fluffers, Inc. She’s been really fun to write, and I hope to get back to that series some time in the near future and bring Bernice back into an adventure. I love Bernice 🙂
Is there a style or genre of writing that you haven’t tired yet but you’d like to explore?
With Bounty I’m kind of hitting a number of genres at once: western, horror, suspense, so I think I’m pretty much covered.
How do you make time in your life for writing?
It’s really the biggest challenge. I work full time and watch more TV than I should, but I seem to find time right after dinner and in the mornings on the weekends. Some weekends I get lucky and I can write the whole day. Now that I’m part of the Story Orgy group, five writers who post free m/m reads on our blogs every Monday morning, I have to get at least 1,500 words done a week. Sometimes that takes time away from my book writing, but I’ve found it’s good practice, and I’ve developed some great stories from that writing, like “Wicked Reflection,” which turned into a novella and is part of the upcoming Story Orgy anthology which is due to be released from Breathless Press the end of this year.
What do you like to read? Do you have some favorite authors?
I read Stephen King, Janet Evanovich, James Rollins, Sue Grafton, Josh Lanyon, Lee Brazil, Em Woods, Silvia Violet (of course!), and a slew of others. I like to bounce back and forth between m/m romance and suspense thrillers or mysteries.
If you decide to take a Saturday off, what are we likely to find you doing?
Oh wow. Hanging out with my partner of going on 16 years, maybe working in the yard a bit, or reading, or watching movies, or taking a day trip somewhere. He is very good at getting me back into the real world with the three dimensional people.
Choose six adjectives to describe yourself.
Determined, anxious, friendly, curious, wishful, hopeful
Describe the perfect meal.
I love Italian food, so I’m going to have to say something with pasta and a red sauce, probably some meatballs (though not on Mondays, we try to do meatless Mondays and eat vegetarian that one day a week), a bottle of smooth red wine, preferably a pinot noir, some warm, fresh bread, and something rich and delicious for dessert. Good God, I just made myself really hungry. Ha! *sigh* I love Italian food.
If you were a dessert what would you be and why?
Sigh … a French silk pie. I love that pie. Mmmmm! Sounds delicious 🙂
Thank you for being here today, Hank!
An Excerpt from Bounty:
Josh could see the firelight reflected in Dex’s eyes and he reached out to squeeze his hand. A comfortable silence slid around them, filled with years of memories and trust.
“I’m sorry, Dex. I know this is tough for you, too. We’ll get through it together, just like we used to get in trouble growing up, right?”
Dex gave a dry chuckle and turned back. They looked at each other a long moment, the fire popping and crackling beside them. An excited flutter started in Josh’s stomach as the expression on Dex’s face changed, became more intense, charged with a sudden and dangerous attraction. With a stubborn will of its own, Josh’s cock bloomed into life, hard in moments and confined painfully inside his pants.
“Josh…”
Josh’s breath was locked in his chest. “Yes?”
Dex half stood out of the chair and leaned over the table, now so close Josh could feel his breath on his cheek. Josh’s cock throbbed as he stared into Dex’s eyes and fought down the panic building inside him.
What were they doing? This was Dex, his best friend and a sheriff’s deputy, and Josh was an outlaw. If Sheriff Haden discovered Dex had found Josh and not taken him into custody, Dex could be hung alongside Josh as a traitor. And, foregoing all of that, what would it do to their friendship?
Without another word, Dex moved closer and kissed him. It was a light kiss, questioning, just a brush of Dex’s lips against his own. But the feel of a man’s mouth against his, the scratch of whiskers, the realization that it was Dex who kissed him — handsome, loyal, and caring Dex — made Josh’s head spin.
The kiss lasted just a moment, but when Dex leaned back they smiled at each other.
“I’ve wanted you to do that for years,” Josh said.
Dex laughed and a blush rose in his cheeks. He looked away into the fire, and then back again, his grin showing off his dimples. “I’ve wanted you to do that for years.”
Josh smiled and leaned in for another kiss. This time there was no hesitation, no question if the kiss would be returned. They kissed for several minutes, mouths parting to admit the other’s questing tongue. Josh’s awareness narrowed to Dex’s mouth: the heat and force of his tongue, the feel of Dex’s teeth beneath his own tongue.
A sharp pop from the fire startled them both, and they broke apart, staring at each other.
“This is dangerous, Dex,” Josh said, “we shouldn’t do this.” The words sounded like a lie, even to his own ears. His cock pulsed within his trousers, aching to be free. He could feel that it already leaked, weeping for release with Dex.
“I’ve wanted to be with you for too long to care about that now.” Dex’s voice was low and spiked with lust, the timber of his words like a fist that wrapped around Josh’s cock and squeezed.
Dex moved fast, standing and pulling him out of his chair, crushing his mouth over Josh’s. Dex’s tongue lunged past Josh’s lips and filled his mouth, commanding and insistent. Dex’s large, rough hands pulled Josh against him and the heat of Dex’s body soaked into him, sinking in right to his bones, making him feel safe and loved.
They stretched out on the floor in front of the fire, Dex sprawled on top, his cock like a fence post pressed against Josh’s thigh. The kiss that had started frantic slowed and deepened. Dex’s fingers eased open the buttons of Josh’s shirt as they kissed and when it lay open, Dex pulled the bottom of his linen under shirt out of his pants. Sliding a hand beneath the soft fabric, Dex’s fingers finally touched Josh’s bare skin. Josh shivered at Dex’s touch and pulled back to gasp.
Dex slid off Josh and furrowed his brow as he looked down at him. “You all right?”
Josh felt himself blush and nodded as he smiled. “I’m all right. I just … I’ve never been touched that way before. It caught me by surprise is all.”
Dex smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. “Me neither,” he whispered.
You can find Bounty at Amazon, Smashwords, and ARe
Learn more about Hank at his website.
And stop by his blog every Monday for a fantastic FREE short story!
Dinner With A Hero – AJ Llewellyn
Sep 16, 2011 Filed under: guest blogger, sweet treats, vampire
Having salivated over the delectable descriptions of food in his books, I knew I wanted AJ Llewellyn to be part of this series. So I asked, and he sent me a yummy vampire who knows his way around both food and men.
AJ is also offering a copy of A Vampire in Wakiki (or another title in the series if you own it already) to a lucky reader. Just leave a comment to enter. Enjoy….
Blood for Breakfast
by Divine Thunder
Hey There,
My name is Divine Thunder, or as my husband calls me, Div. I used to go by Jimmy Thunder, until I met Temeura…who was Angelis when I met him. Have I confused you yet? Well, let me explain. I’m a vampire and I live in Waikiki.
Being pretty well endowed, I noticed a guy at the gym down here on Kalakaua Avenue checking me out. I was kinda between girlfriends…well, I had two, actually but one was sweet and the other one was a total bitch. You can probably guess the bitchy one was damned hot in the sack and Clancy, the sweet one was well, sweet, but something was missing. I’d never met a woman who could be both sweet and hot…and then this guy at the gym approached me.
His name was Angelis and he was a good-looking Hawaiian-Asian guy. I’d heard rumors he was a gay porn star and he asked if I’d like to shoot some gay porn. I can’t explain it but I took one look at his massive cock and I kinda liked the idea of fooling around with him. The work was at night and I don’t know…I’d never thought about being with a guy but he was handsome and seemed to want to work with me.
It was the best sex of my life.
We fell in love. I have never met anyone like Tem and yeah, he’s mine. So no more porn for either of us. He is now my vampire lover and husband in every way and it might surprise you to learn that we eat. Yes. Waikiki Vampires enjoy their food. I can tolerate sun up to a point but my favorite dinner with Tem – unless he’s cooking – is to go to Duke’s at the Outrigger Hotel in Waikiki.
I think we are the only couple in the whole, wide world who don’t request beach tables. Tem, being a fairly new vampire is still very sensitive to sunlight.
We get nice and toasty on a couple of mai tais, my favorite island drink and we love the crab macadamia wantons. After a couple of mai tais, my husband likes to “have a party in my pants” which can get embarrassing so we sometimes get a room upstairs. We get dessert of hula pie to go. By the way, we both love blood for breakfast. We drink from each other. It’s a crazy-good high.
Tem and I share our wonderful, sprawling ranch-style home on top of Tantalus, mountain on top of Waikiki. We live with my sister, Heavenly, and her wife, Clancy. Yep, I hooked up my ex girlfriend with my sister. I told you, Clancy is sweet. I am legally married to her, but that was for immigration purposes since she is Australian and needed residency.
Clancy and Tem are the best things that ever happened to me and Heavenly. We were the two loneliest souls before we met them. For two hundred years, we just existed. Cursed by a bad kahuna because of my grandfather’s gambling debts, we became vampires, doomed to live alone. Now, we have love, sex and unbelievably great food. I have a fantastic family. Tem and I are proud parents of the bossiest cat in the world, Midnight, and we have a nephew who is a storm demon. But that’s another story.
Tem and Clancy are great friends and cook together. I’ve never heard them argue, except over the subject of Vegemite. Clancy, being Australian, thinks it’s the best thing since sliced cheese. The rest of us tolerate it. Actually, I’ll be honest, I’ve come to crave a slice of hot-buttered toast smeared with vegemite.
If you were to come to the Thunder residence, you will find a house filled with Hawaiian antiques and fresh flowers Heavenly cuts from our garden. You would have your choice of cocktails. Actually, you won’t. My husband makes the best bloody mary’s ever.
We have a cellar full of gourmet wine that was once ransacked by French-Vietnamese eunuchs, but that’s another story, too. So, you’d get great wine and if you and your partner decide to have a party in each other’s pants, that’s just too bad because Tem is the hostess with the mostest.
For an appetizer he would present you with sake and ginger-poached shrimp cocktail. It’s not your mom’s shrimp cocktail. This one comes with Asian sesame remoulade. If you want to make my husband unhappy, ask him for the traditional red dipping sauce.
For your main course, you would have your choice of sea-salt crusted prime rib or fresh ahi seared with ginger and shallots. You can have a little of both, if you like. Or a lot. Ahi is Hawaiian tuna and Tem and Clancy buy it every day from a little old man who catches it himself. He brings it to our door. All our meals come with salad and vegetables pulled from our garden.
By the time we’ve refilled your wine glass several times, you will definitely want to have a party in your husband’s pants. We’re well prepared for this. We have plenty of guest rooms…and we’ll give you a big hunk of hula pie to share in bed.
It’s yummy. Almost as good as blood for breakfast.
Aloha oe (love forever),
Div xoxo
Learn more about Div and Tem and more delightful characters than I can count at AJ Llewellyn’s website.
