Things That Go Bump in the Night

By L.M. Somerton (Guest Blogger)

I recently read an article by Susan Hill, author of The Woman in Black, about what makes a good ghost story. It made me wonder if the same principles would apply to an erotic ghost story. How do you create the atmosphere needed when the core of the tale is an MM romance?

It’s one thing to sit around a campfire spinning spooky yarns and controlling your audience with the drama of the moment. Unfortunately it’s not possible to rely on readers to create the appropriate atmosphere for themselves or to issue instructions in the preamble to the book:

1. 1. Do not read unless you are situated in an appropriately spooky setting. E.g. graveyard, abandoned asylum, haunted house.
2. 2. Weather must be atmospheric – fog, heavy rain, thunder and lightening are all acceptable.
3. 3. Watch a really good horror film to get yourself in the right state of mind i.e. ready to jump out of your skin at the least provocation.
4. 4. Switch off all lights and read with a torch.

I have to confess that when I wrote The Portrait I wasn’t consciously considering which elements would work when it came shivers of fear. I was more worried about shivers of desire between the two main characters. In either case there is a fine line between giving your readers a thrill and sending them into fits of laughter. How do you avoid the traps and pitfalls of stereotypes but still give your readers what they need to really feel the atmosphere you are trying to create? In this day and age we are exposed to every imaginable take on the supernatural. Films and computer games bring our worst fears to life at the touch of a button. Is it even possible to create that kind of atmosphere any more or are readers immune to anything that isn’t in 3D?

I think the same thing that makes a story erotic can make it scary. Imagination. It’s the author’s job to put the pieces in place, to lay the foundations for the reader to then build their own picture – to really see, hear and feel what the characters do.

By happy accident, many of the ‘required elements’ of a ghost story snuck their way into The Portrait, so all those 18^th century gothic novels I’ve read must have been lurking in my sub-conscious. Hints of a spectral presence, unexplained noises and shadows, an old house where the memories of past horrors linger – they are all there, aided by the natural atmosphere provided by the wonderfully gloomy British weather.

It only takes the smallest hints and suggestions to capture an intelligent reader’s imagination and I think that works so much better than launching into a full-blown terror-ride from the first line. Shakespeare put it well in the Scottish play:

 By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.

My characters, Garrick and Tristan, know that something evil objects to them being together. Finding out why and working out what to do about it is intertwined with the story of their developing relationship. I wanted my characters to tingle in all the right places; the fear and anticipation of what might happen adds something unpredictable to their romance and turns the heat up just a little bit higher!

So if you like your erotica with a hint of the supernatural, I think you’ll enjoy The Portrait – here’s the blurb to tell you a bit more:

When Tristan Lindsay takes a job cataloguing the library at Faversham Park, home of rock star Marcus Balen, he also accepts a role as companion to Balen’s artist son Garrick.

Garrick is beautiful and talented, he’s also demanding and infuriating. He uses Tristan as an unwilling model, shamelessly manipulating the shy boy’s emotions to draw out his submissive tendencies.

Drawn in to the enigmatic artist’s world, Tristan discovers a side of himself that he didn’t realise existed. Afraid of his own feelings, he learns to trust Garrick and falls deeply in love.

But Garrick has a secret that could tear them apart. A ghostly rival objects to Tristan’s presence in Garrick’s life. As the spectre’s malevolence increases, the young lovers must search for clues to the haunting and find a way to exorcise the jealous ghost. What they find leads them down a path that challenges the dynamics of their relationship. Will their love be strong enough to overcome its supernatural opposition or will there be no happily ever after?

And a short excerpt to tempt you:

Garrick was bent over a large drawing board, skimming over creamy paper with a soft-leaded pencil. His strokes were confident and he was utterly focused on what he was doing. Suddenly he looked up, his breath steaming in the unnaturally cold air. He cringed and swiped at his neck, rubbing away the sensation of clammy fingers exploring his skin.

“Leave me alone.” His voice was tight with a tension that was mirrored in the set of his jaw. After just a few seconds, the temperature reverted to its normal level and Garrick relaxed with a sigh.

He sat back and took a critical look at the drawing in front of him. A perfect likeness of Tristan stared back and Garrick licked his lips. The image captured the expression that appeared on Tristan’s face every time Garrick looked at him—a cross between fear and desire. A calculating smile curled Garrick’s lips as he pinned the picture to the wall. “You’re mine, Tristan Lindsay. You just don’t know it yet.”

Order your copy of The Portrait by L. M. Somerton here: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=1902

Bio: Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She’s fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.

You can read more about L.M. Somerton at her blog http://lmsomerton.wordpress.org or write to her at lmsomertom - at - aol.com.

Oral Antics from Crossed Hearts

Happy Sunday! No lip-to-lip action in today's very naughty snog, which comes from Crossed Hearts, but there's plenty of delicious M/M orality!

For the past six years, Jason Hofstadter has attended the Four States Annual Scrabble Tournament. Jason comes to the Four States for two reasons: to play Scrabble and to get laid. Every year since his first, he has managed to hook up with one of the other players for some sexual fun. This year he has a chance at the grand prize in the tournament. Meanwhile he figures that he has hit the jackpot when he spots handsome, bookish Matt Sawyer, who's competing at the Four States for the first time.

Shy and seemingly innocent, Matt turns out to be full of surprises. First he jumps Jason in the rest room at Starbucks. Then he reveals that he's into BDSM and encourages Jason to experiment with topping him. Finally, despite his lack of experience with tournament play, Matt ends up competing with Jason in the semi-final round. When Matt throws the game he should have won, Jason is forced to confront his own feelings: about winning, about casual sex, and about Matt.

If you like my excerpt - head over to Mikela Q. Chase's blog, where you just might win a copy of Crossed Hearts of your very own! Actually, the excerpt over there is the set-up for the scene below.

And don't forget to visit Snog Central (that is, Victoria's joint) for links to lots more kisses and other oral events!

***

“I might be able to show you a few tricks, too,” Matt commented, his wicked grin belying his apparent innocence. He stood and stretched his rangy limbs. “Right now, though, I’ve got to go take a leak.” 

 

“Me too.” Did the guy really mean what Jason thought he did? He followed Matt down the back corridor to unisex bathroom. Matt entered and closed the door. Jason waited about thirty seconds then slipped inside himself, bolting the door behind him.

 

Matt stood in front of the corner toilet, back to the door, jeans pushed down to his ankles. Jason swallowed hard at the sight of the other man’s powerful thighs and swelling ass. His intuitions hadn’t proved wrong. Matt had the body of a wrestler rather than a weight-lifter, compact and wiry. Tawny hair dusted his thighs, but his butt was smooth as a baby’s cheek, pale and vulnerable. Jason imagined grabbing those voluptuous white globes, pulling them apart to expose the tender hole they sheltered. His aching dick leapt at the image. He sucked in his breath, fighting for control.

Matt turned at the sound, a bit awkward due to the clothes shackling his ankles. Jason got his first sight of the other man’s cock, soaring up from the dark tangles at its base, eight, nine, maybe even ten inches long. It angled towards the ceiling, impudent and tempting, bobbing with Matt’s every movement. The taut skin along shaft was dusky pink. The cap was a wet, shiny purple.

“Oh God,” breathed Jason, saliva gathering in his mouth.

“What kept you?” Matt stroked himself once or twice. His penis jumped and quivered in his hand like some live thing. “I was beginning to think that I’d misunderstood you.”

“No, no, you didn’t misunderstand. Not at all…” Jason yanked at his fly, desperate to release his own cock. The pressure of his engorged flesh against the seam made it difficult to undo the zipper. “Damn!”

“Allow me,” said Matt, shuffling over until he was inches from Jason’s body. “Here, you take care of this.” He curved Jason’s hand around his own rod. Jason slid his palm down Matt’s smooth endless length, steel sheathed in hot silk. Matt moaned in appreciation, all the while working patiently at Jason’s zip. At last, Jason felt blessed relief as the fabric parted and his cock sprang free. It was captured by Matt’s eager hand.

“Ah! Oh, yeah…” Jason muttered. Matt might be a country hick, but he knew how to give a hand job. At first, he varied his strokes, fast then slow. He’d flick a delicate finger over Jason’s leaking knob, then squeeze hard enough to make Jason gasp. He experimented, clearly trying to discover what felt best. Before long he had switched to firm up-and-down movements like Jason used himself. But this was better, so much better, than wanking alone.

Matt’s cock throbbed in Jason’s grip, ripe and fat, dribbling fluid that he used to lubricate his strokes. He wanted to bring the guy to the edge and push him over. But it was difficult to concentrate on the other man’s pleasure, given the incredible sensations sparking through his own body. Pressure built in his groin, spiralling tighter with each of Matt’s strokes. He had already been close when he’d followed Matt into the john. He couldn’t hold on much longer.

Matt stepped closer, rubbing the tip of Jason’s cock against his bare thigh. Jason growled at the sudden change in stimulation. He reached around and claimed a fistful of Matt’s butt flesh. Matt mashed his pelvis against Jason’s jeans, trapping Jason’s hand and leaving damp trails on the fabric.

The boy was close. All at once, Jason wanted to taste him, to drink the cum he felt gathering in the other man’s slick, juicy cock.

He stepped back a bit, letting go of Matt’s ass but still gripping his dick, and lowered himself to the tile floor. Matt tried unsuccessfully to hold on to Jason’s rod. “What…?”

“I want to eat you. You’re going to come in my mouth.” Matt’s cock danced in front of Jason’s face, redder now than before, wet and gleaming in the fluorescent light. Jason had never wanted anything so much.

“But…I…oh!” Matt’s protest turned into a groan of pleasure as Jason swallowed him whole. Jason swirled his tongue around the shaft then sucked hard. Matt jerked his hips, pushing deep into Jason’s throat. Jason opened wide, taking everything Matt had to give him.

His nose was buried in the prickly curls at Matt’s root. Soap, sweat and musk drowned out the faint odour of disinfectant that hung in the room. Jason’s balls tightened as he breathed in. Testosterone. Pheromones. His cock pulsed, untouched yet ready to spill from the boy’s scent.

Matt’s cock tasted salty and slightly bitter. Jason wanted more, wanted the raw, leafy flavour of the other man’s semen. Let go, he thought, pursing his lips and running them up and down the slippery shaft. Give in to me.

 

Matt pulled back, then rammed his cock into Jason’s palate. Jason sucked with all his might, desperate now, his dick throbbing in sympathy as Matt fucked his mouth. Don’t fight it. Come for me. Come.

Jason felt it, the instant that Matt lost control. Triumph swept through him, sweet as physical pleasure. Matt’sThe boy’s cock convulsed and spat thick gobs of cum onto Jason’s tongue. He swallowed, and swallowed again. Matt kept coming, grinding his pubis against Jason’s lips until they were bruised. Even then, Matt’s cum still surged into his mouth.

Jason teetered on the edge. One touch was all it would take.

Bang! Bang! “Hey, are you all right in there?” Matt’s soft dick finally slipped out of his mouth, still amazingly long and thick. “Hurry up! Somebody needs to use the bathroom.”

Matt sank to his haunches, facing Jason. “What do you think? Are we all right?” he whispered in Jason’s ear. He gave Jason’s cock a squeeze. Pleasure sizzled up Jason’s spine like fire along a fuse. He exploded, his cock flinging dollops of cum in all directions. 

 

My Writing - My Life!

By Jennifer Wright (Guest Blogger)

I’d like to start off by giving a big thank you to Lisabet for hosting me today. I’m really excited to be here.

I've had a couple of people ask me,“Why do you write m/m romance?”  Well that's easy... because I enjoy it.  I started out writing m/f romance, and I did enjoy that, but writing about two men finding love and getting hot and bothered together is soooooo much better!

I'll admit that at first I was a little scared to write m/m romance.  I was worried that people would think differently of me and even act differently around me - or not be around me at all anymore.  I even kept the m/m books I read to myself, hidden on the bottom shelf of my bookcase, making sure none of the covers could be seen. Trying to find a way to hide the cover while I was reading them was hard as ever, but I did it.  I loved - and still do of course - reading m/m romance, but I let the world and its ugly views it still has get to me, so I kept that part of my life a secret.  It finally got to the point, though, that my writing wasn't as creative anymore.  I felt deep down that I could do so much better.  It took about a year to realize it was because I was writing the wrong genre.

After reading and being inspired by a series by my favorite m/m author, JL Langley, I said screw it!  If I want to write gay romance, then I will!  Who cares what other people think? It's my writing, it's my life, and I'm going to do what I want to do.  People can accept me or not, it makes no difference to me. Boy did I get all worked up for nothing because my family and boyfriend are behind me 100%. I don’t go shouting to the world the type of genre I write, but if someone asks I generally tell them. There are the few cases that I only say ‘romance’ and then finagle my way around describing my books without actually revealing they’re m/m, but I only do this to keep the peace. There are still those people that I have to associate with that I’d rather not have animosity between us just because they’re not accepting of it. I do it for my peace of mind – not theirs.

So, Pavarus actually started out as an m/f romance. Instead of Wesley, the heroine’s name was Elena. I was probably a good third of the way through the story when I decided to change it. Let me tell you something, going through that much writing and changing every she/her to he/him/his is a big pain in the butt. Not to mention how many scenes I had to change because ‘putting on the dress…’ no longer fit.

It was worth it, though, because until then I had never had this much fun writing. It finally feels natural – it finally feels right. The words and storyline come to me so much easier now.

With that being said, how about I give you a little taste of Pavarus.

Book Blurb

Thrown into another world where dangerous creatures live and rule, will Wesley stay and find love with a vampire, or will the terrors of an unknown realm have him running home?

On a camping trip in Louisiana, Wesley finds himself sucked down a hidden portal and thrown into another realm where he meets Remus, a warrior vampire. With the help of Remus, Wesley embarks on an adventure to find his way home, back to a world not filled with vampires and dragons and magic folk. Along his journey, the handsome vampire finds his way into Wesley’s heart. But will his love for Remus overcome his fears of the creatures that reign in this world?

Remus has never wanted a man before but finds himself drawn to Wesley despite his denying efforts. He’s happy with his life as the Commander of the vampires, and has had no interest in finding a mate. But after Wesley is kidnapped, Remus discovers his feelings for the man are stronger than he thought. Is he strong enough, though, to honour Wesley’s wish to return home, and let go of the man he loves?

Excerpt

Wes woke to a light, bouncy, swaying motion. It was soothing, and all he wanted to do was cuddle up against the soft cotton that covered the hard chest where his cheek rested. Somehow he knew that the strong arms around him would keep him safe and that he could rest for a little while longer.

“Are you going to wake up enough for me to put you down?” a gentle voice asked.

Wes tried burrowing deeper in his arms. “No. Why would I want to do that?”

The man’s laugh rumbled in his chest like a deep lullaby. So relaxing. Wes breathed in deep, taking in his scent—Remus’ scent—and he smelt wonderful.

Wait. Man? Remus?

Vampire!

Wes gasped and jerked his body right out of Remus’ arms, landing flat on his ass.

Ouch!

“Well, that just wasn’t smart. If you asked, I would have set you down.” Remus reached down for him.

Wes scooted back. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Wesley. If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

“I don’t know, you’re a vampire, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think.”

“So, you do know that I’m a vampire?”

“That’s what you told me. Were you lying?”

“No, I wasn’t lying, I am a vampire. I’m just surprised you’re taking it so well now, considering how you reacted earlier.”

“Yeah, well, one can only handle so much craziness in one night, and I’d say the fire-breathing dragons and the ‘we’re on a different planet’ took up a lot of that.” Wes pointed up. “Not to mention the two moons. So right now, I’m up to believing just about anything. Besides, with some of the things I’ve seen you do…”

With furrowed eyebrows, Remus crouched down in front of him. “Wesley, I’m glad you believe me about being a vampire, now I need you to believe me when I say we’re not on a different planet. We’re on Pavarus, and always have been.”

“No. I don’t care where you’re from, but I’m from Earth.” Wes frowned at him. “Stop looking at me like that.”

The man shook his head. “I refuse to believe Zane and his thinking you’re crazy. But I am beginning to think you’ve bumped your head or something, and maybe you’re confused. Let’s just get you to Gamden and they’ll be able to help you.”

“What? No.” Wes didn’t feel comfortable being with a vampire, and would admit he was afraid—at least of the others—but for some reason the thought of leaving Remus and being left with strangers was worse. “I don’t want to go to Gamden.”

Remus sighed and stood back up. “You have to. I know of nowhere else to take you.”

Wes looked around, as if the trees would give him an answer. “I could go with you.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Wes stood up, trying pointlessly to dust his pants off.

Remus reached out and brushed his thumb across Wes’ cheek. “Because, there is no room for a human in my world.”

“Please. I don’t want to be left at Gamden.” Wes knew his voice cracked but he couldn’t help it. Vampire or not, Remus was all he knew, and he wasn’t ashamed to beg. “Please.”

Moments passed as Remus just stared at him. Wes’ hope began to blossom, that whatever internal battle Remus had going on inside him…

Pavarus: Finding Home Series #1 is available today at Total-E-Bound!

Buy link: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1831

Giveaway

Want more? Just leave a comment and you’ll be entered into a drawing to win an e-copy of Pavarus. The cut-off time to enter will be at midnight on Friday the 9th of November (US Central Time) and a winner will be randomly chosen. Please include your email address at the bottom of your comment to be eligible for the giveaway – if there’s no address I won’t know where to send the book ;)

Bio

I was born in Arizona, but have spent the better part of my life in Wisconsin. While I enjoy living close to my family, my heart longs to live in the South—or anywhere where the winters are warmer, and I hope to someday get there. I love writing, and try to dedicate as much of my free time to it (ha! what free time?). If I’m not typing away on my laptop, you’ll find me with my nose buried in a book, or with my loving boyfriend debating on what movie to watch and the never ending back and forth decision of what we should have for dinner. I love spending time with my family and boyfriend, cuddling with my two cats, and laughing as much as possible (cuz I like to think I’m funny J).

Some little tidbits about me are - I love horses and cats, I have a really big sweet-tooth, and I’ve been told I like to talk with my hands (insert hand gestures here).

My links

Blog: www.authorjenwright.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/_JenWright

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/117019946000205455450/posts

Sunday Snog: An Intense Kiss from Quarantine

Happy Snogday - I mean Sunday. I've got a short but intense kiss for you today, from Quarantine.  By the way, the book is now available on Amazon, both in Kindle format and in print!

After you've savored my kiss, head back to Victoria Blisse's place, for links to snogs from all your favorite authors.

Somehow he and Rafe made it up to their room, tore off their clothing, and collapsed on the bed in each other’s arms. The mattress rocked beneath him like a boat pitched about by a storm. He was safe, though, held tight against Rafe’s solid chest, feeling the swell and dip of Rafe’s breathing. His legs tangled with Rafe’s muscle-corded thighs. Rafe was hard and strong, a man of ebony and steel, yet his lips were tender and pillow-soft as they nuzzled Dylan’s earlobe.

“I love you,” the black man murmured. “You’re my life now.”

“Me, too.” Dylan’s words slurred but the emotions were crystal clear. “I love you too.”

Rafe lavished gentle kisses on his eyelids, his cheeks, his jaw, licking his face like a mother cat. When he claimed Dylan’s lips, though, the usual urgency burned in their connection.

Dylan tasted the fine whisky they’d both consumed, a sweetness edged with darker accents. More intoxicated than ever, he drank deep of his lover’s flavour. Rafe’s potent scent drowned him—long-dried sweat, ripe musk and a hint of semen from Kevin’s sheets. Blood rushed to swell his cock. Rafe’s fingers gripped his ass. He pulled Dylan’s pelvis against his groin, batting Dylan’s erection with his own massive rod.

Dylan’s belly grew slippery with pre-cum—Rafe’s and his own, intermingled. He hooked one leg around Rafe’s thighs to draw him closer. The black man’s mouth was still sealed to his own. Rafe would back off for a moment to nibble Dylan’s lip, then plunge his tongue back down Dylan’s throat, taking full control.

Dylan relaxed into the fierce embrace, more than willing to let Rafe take what he wanted. The black man’s cock, trapped between their bodies, felt huge. Dylan’s imagination ran fast forward to the moment when Rafe would flip him over and impale him. He couldn’t wait much longer. He could already feel the perfect, tearing ecstasy when the fat bulb pushed past his entrance, the ache of fullness as Rafe settled in his depths.

Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there

By S. Dora (Guest Blogger)

Let me start by thanking Lisabet for her warm-hearted hospitality. It’s always such a pleasure to be here.

When I first got the idea for writing what would become Facing the Truth, a story about a man discovering BDSM while already in a committed relationship with another man, the main characters were both in their twenties. Soon enough I realised something: if I made the age difference considerable, it would add another, hopefully interesting, layer to the story.

I’m not just talking about the simple fact that an university student moves in an environment that is quite different from that of an office of an insurance company, or that experience and youth each have their own brand of power. In this case, it means that a gay man having been a teenager in the eighties in England very likely doesn’t have quite the same outlook on sexuality as his lover, who’s eighteen years younger.

Being gay when Isaac Newhouse was a teenager meant he wasn’t allowed to have sex with another boy or man until he was 21. Section 28 stated that a local authority "shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality or promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship.” AIDS was epidemic among gay men. Homophobia wasn’t the hobby of a backwards minority of people, but was deeply rooted in English society as a whole.

By the time Tom, the younger of the two, discovered he was into other boys, attitudes towards homosexuality were already dramatically changing. There’s no longer a different age of consent for straight and gay couples and Section 28 has been moved to its rightful place, the dustbin. While many individuals and several groups are still homophobic, society as a whole started to realise that homosexuality is simply a fact of life and that a legal right like marriage might actually be a good idea.

By the end of Facing the Truth, I knew the story wasn’t over yet and so a series began. Since Calling the Shots is first and foremost a series about romantic m/m BDSM erotica, the social and political background is never really mentioned, but it’s in the back of my head while I’m writing this story. I personally had my first coming-out in 1979, so I know a little about Isaac’s state of mind. That knowledge influenced how I wrote Isaac’s hesitation to start a relationship with a much younger (but fully of age) man and his journey into BDSM and Tom’s “what exactly is the problem?” attitude.

Part two of Calling the Shots, The Right Direction, is now available. Here’s a small excerpt. Isaac and Tom enjoy a weekend full of BDSM fun, in and out of the bedroom. It’s time for dinner and they ordered pizza. The following happens:

***

Tom wasn’t out of the kitchen for more than five seconds before the doorbell rang.

“That’ll be the pizza,” Tom hollered from the living room. “I’ll get it, Sir.”

“Use the groceries wallet. And don’t forget to tip the delivery boy.”

Isaac thoroughly enjoyed the small details of Tom waiting to take his first bite until his Dom had given him permission, of his glass being refilled before he had to ask. It wasn’t until halfway through the meal that he put his fork down in sudden realisation. “He saw you…”

“Who? Oh, the guy delivering the pizza,” Tom finally understood. “Probably a student, just like me.”

“He saw you.”

“Yeah—he wasn’t blind. What’s the matter, Sir? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t flirt or anything—you know I only go for my sexy Master, because he really knows how to handle both his cane and his cock.” Tom squirmed on his chair to accentuate his words. “There’s no way I’ll ever forget who owns me.”

“No, I did something wrong. How could I be this stupid?”

“You’re scaring me, Isaac… Sir… Please tell me what’s wrong so I can make it up to you. I’ll accept any punishment, but please explain…”

“Your collar. He saw you wearing my collar.”

Tom gaped at him in total incomprehension.

“An outsider saw you while you were wearing your slave collar.” Why didn’t Tom understand what he was trying to say? Was it so hard to understand the possible implications?

“Uh, he didn’t. He saw a guy of his own age in black sweatpants, a black shirt, messed up hair and, yes, a collar. To him I probably looked like a Goth or an emo or perhaps, if he’s a student too, he might think I’m one of those artistic guys from Arts.” Tom all but giggled. “If he was one of us, he’d know, no matter what I was wearing. But he wasn’t one of us.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I would know.”

Silly, naïve boy.

“Like you recognise all gay men because you’re one too?” The words hit like a badly made whip in the hands of a sick sadist. Isaac regretted them as soon as he had spoken.

“I’m not saying that…” Tom shrugged. Sadness clouded the happiness in his eyes. “You’re ashamed of us and of what we’re doing. Being Dom and sub isn’t our sweet little secret—it’s our dirty big secret.”

“No.”

Was it really no, and not perhaps a little bit, or somewhat, or even…yes?

“Tommy…”

What was he supposed to say? Hadn’t his panic spoken more truth than any of the excuses and explanations he’d been planning to use?

Facing the Truth: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1579

The Right Direction: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1779

My blog: http://sdora.wordpress.com/

Sun, Sea and LOTS of Fun!

By Louisa Masters (Guest Blogger)

A little over a year ago, I was lucky enough to visit Cairns in far-north Australia. Cairns is one of the best places to base yourself if you're going to visit the Great Barrier Reef, and I was seriously looking forward to it.

The first thing we did was book to go out to the reef. There are a lot of boats that do day trips. We chose a company that had its own pontoon. The boat takes you out to the pontoon, and from there you can snorkel, scuba dive, go into the underwater observatory, go out on the glass-bottomed boat, etc. They feed you lunch, and you're usually back in Cairns by five o'clock.

What struck me first about the cruise out to the reef? How incredibly fit the crew were. Mmmmm. Like, really, really fit. We got to the pontoon and the dive instructors put on their wetsuits, and my mind started racing. It was hot. Incredibly humid. The sun was beating down. I was surrounded by sexy bodies and sparkling water...um, plot idea, anyone?

I still haven't been forgiven for insisting on a room service dinner so I could make notes, but I just had to. Especially because it just wasn't gelling together. My heroine was wrong, somehow. Eventually, I gave in to nagging and we went on an ice-cream break. It was about ten-thirty on a weekday night, and still incredibly hot and sticky. Cairns has a wonderful waterfront esplanade area—because it's not safe to swim in the ocean right there near the marina, they've built a series of wading and swimming pools with sand beaches, and there's a lovely park as well. We were strolling past the pools, which at that time of night were only sparsely populated, and I saw a couple of guys in the water, splashing each other. They seemed to be having a great time, and one of them tackled the other and dragged him under. They both came up sputtering and laughing, and then they kissed. And something in my head went click.

I've never written m/m before. I've read it extensively, but for some reason it just never stirred my muse. Until then, of course. Back to the hotel to make more notes and revise the old ones...and still it just wasn't right.

I shelved the whole project for a few months. I couldn't bring myself to start writing it when the concept just wasn't working for me.

And then, one day I was rummaging through my notebook, looking for something else (which I never found, by the way) and came upon my very sketchy outline. I skimmed it, misread a sentence, and realized what was missing. A third man. Click.

I've never written ménage before either, so this was a big step for me. I immediately began doing research, reading every m/m/m story that caught my interest. I hopped online, and plumbed the depths of information available there. And I wrote and deleted many scenes.

It took me a while, but I did eventually get the story the way I wanted it. My focus was to capture the hot, sultry weather, the laid-back environment, and the sheer excitement out on the reef. And to wrap it all up in a sexy package with a romantic ending, of course!

Diving in Deep by Louisa Masters

Blurb

Cameron is sick of being a stereotypical nerd. In an attempt to “reinvent” himself, he takes three months off for a holiday in Australia—something the old Cameron would never do.

Troy and Jake are in a committed relationship. Co-owners of Sail Away, a water sport and cruising company, their life is about sun, sea and each other.

Neither Troy nor Jake have ever participated in a menage, but after a day out on the water, both are fantasizing about sandwiching Cameron between them. Cameron has never been with a man but can’t stop thinking about the hunky couple, and how they’d look, naked and entwined. When he walks in on them having sex in the underwater observatory, he can’t look away—and then they invite him to join in.

Will the old Cameron sink in uncharted territory? Or will the new Cameron find himself diving in deep?

Excerpt

The bell over the door dinged, and Jake glanced up from the computer. Any distraction from the bookkeeping was welcome. He smiled at Troy. Was it that time already? 

“Hey,” his lover said, crossing the room and leaning across the desk. Jake met him halfway, planting a quick, hard kiss on those soft lips. A sharply indrawn breath drew his attention to the man who’d followed Troy into the office.

“Hey, yourself.” Jake pulled back and nodded to the stranger. “Going to introduce me to your friend?”

Troy half-turned. “Sure. Jake Paulson, Cameron Hall. Cameron came out to the pontoon with us today, and now he wants to get his dive certificate.”

Jake reached for the drawer where they kept the list of reputable dive instructors. “No problem. We have a list of some excellent dive companies. I’ll make a copy for you.”

Troy cleared his throat and looked away. “Actually, I said we’d give him the lessons.”

Jake’s hand froze on the drawer handle. What the hell? “Oh.” He raised an eyebrow, but Troy’s gaze was fixed on the desk. “Okay. Um, what arrangement did you make?”

They didn’t do certification lessons. He studied the stranger—Cameron. He was kind of gangly and had a very faint tan, probably as a result of the day on the water. His hair was the same shade between blond and brown as Troy’s, but Troy spent so much time outdoors that the sun had streaked his with gold.

Cameron fiddled with his watch. “Troy said you’d work that out.”

“Did he?” Jake glanced at Troy, who made a sheepish face.

“Yeah. Uh, I thought he could come out on the boat with the regular day-trippers, and you or I could do his lessons. At a reasonable rate?” The questioning lift to his last sentence was accompanied by his puppy-dog look, the one Jake could never resist.

His gaze met Troy’s mocha-latte colored eyes, and his stomach did its usual flip. He sighed. “Sure. Sit down, Cameron, and we’ll work something out.”

Troy grinned, shooting him a grateful look, and the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood on end. Why did this matter so much to Troy? He turned his attention back to Cameron as the man sat in one of the visitor’s chairs. Cameron’s hazel eyes gazed back at him.

Diving in Deep will be released by The Wild Rose Press on August 3^rd as part of their Boys of Summer series. In the meantime, please check out my other titles!

Louisa lives in Melbourne, Australia, where she has a long-standing love affair with the sensual pleasures of life: wine, bubble baths, ice-cream and books. Nothing gives an illicit thrill like reading a sexy story on the train while those around you are oblivious. Get into a sexy state of mind and feel that thrill with Louisa’s books! 

Visit her website, like her on facebook, and follow her on twitter. 

Louisa also writes mainstream romance as Olivia Ventura www.oliviaventura.net

A Tropical Paradise

By Sage Marlowe (Guest Blogger)

First of all, thank you Lisabet for the invite! I’m delighted to be here and celebrate the release of your new book, Quarantine! I always love a party in the middle of the summer.

Yes, it’s July and where I live, this is the middle of the summer. So around here, it’s mostly hot and humid – not altogether a bad thing as we lovers of erotic romance surely agree on. You break a sweat as soon as you leave the house and quite regularly, even indoors. Sometimes more, sometimes less, depending on the level of activity.

Don’t get me wrong. I love summertime. Really. I love the heat, the feel of sunshine on my skin, warm, long evenings spent sitting outside. The drone of the neighbours’ hushed voices as they stand around chatting. The buzzing sound of a bumble bee passing by. Garden parties. Barbeques. Ice cold beverages – cocktails, preferably. Sparsely dressed people. All that makes summer my favourite time of the year but what I’m really, really missing around here are a beach and the sea. White sand and glittering waves underneath a blistering, bright blue sky. A little tropical paradise, so to speak. Now that would be a truly perfect scenario – for me, that is. However, it seems that not everybody shares my fondness of heat and sunshine, or wishes themselves into a tropical paradise.

Riordan, one of the heroes in my latest release, A Taste of Paradise, is definitely not pleased at all when he suddenly finds himself in one of the most beautiful spots on the planet. For him, holidays are a waste of time, and the heat only makes him break a sweat which threatens to ruin his business suit. In short, Riordan is the kind of guy who, for all his life, has chosen his career over feelings. He prefers to have even the most basic emotional needs satisfied with the help of professionals but his attitude gets challenged when a wrong flight booking on a business trip takes him to a peaceful little tropical island instead of his intended destination. Finding himself stranded for a week, he meets Marc, a social worker with summer-sky blue eyes, a sunny look at life and a heart bruised by too many inconsiderate lovers – lovers like Riordan. They begin an affair which to Riordan is nothing but a suitable arrangement and Marc knows his own weaknesses well enough to realise that his instant attraction to Riordan only proves that they don't stand a chance - but maybe one involuntary taste of paradise is all it takes to change their lives.

A Taste of Paradise by Sage Marlowe, released July 14, 2012 by Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Find out more on Sage’s website: www.sage-marlowe.com

Bio: Sage takes romance to the edge. The edge of passion, the edge of pleasure, the edge of propriety.

Hopelessly in love with books from a very early age on, Sage has dreamt of writing one for years while working on the day job instead. It took a very persistent character in the company of a much-adored Muse to finally get the first novel going. The fact that this gorgeous guy was gay came as a bit of a surprise, but it explained a lot.

Ever since, Sage has been the willing slave to all the fascinating guys who just keep queuing up and want their stories told. This has resulted in several manuscripts at various stages of completion, so there's always something to work on - preferably at night when the rest of the house is asleep.

Sage's characters often have a dramatic and sometimes traumatic past and need to battle some demons to be with the one they love. It doesn't hurt that they usually get quite a lot of naughty action along the way!

An Interview with Rafe Cowell

Rafe Cowell is Quarantine's second hero – although a reluctant one. We'll let him tell his story in his own words.

Interviewer: You were one of two human guards working at the Camp Malheur quarantine facility. How did you end up there?

Rafe: Back in Ellay, a guy from a rival gang was bumped off. I ended up taking the rap. But I had nothing to do with it, I swear. Anyway, the so-called public defender swore she'd get me off if I named names. Fat chance. They found me guilty anyway – but told me I could serve two years as a quarantine guard instead of ten years in jail. I jumped at the chance. Didn't know what a hell hole the camp was! Sometimes I think I should've chosen the can.

Interview: But then you wouldn't have met Dylan.

Rafe: Yeah, right. I guess I should be glad, even though that smart ass kid pretty much turned my life upside down.

Interviewer: So, before Dylan, did you ever fantasize about sex with a man?

Rafe: Are you shitting me? What do you think? I was a red-blooded American guy who liked women with nice, fat butts. I knew the queers were sick, just like everyone said. Maybe the Plague was just another sign of that sickness. Anyone who even hinted that I liked men would have ended up with a bloody nose, or worse. I still don't understand how Dylan changed me so much.

Interviewer: Well, I'd imagine you were lonely and horny, stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Rafe: That wasn't it. I tried to tell myself that was why I fell for Dyl, but it's a lie. And it wasn't the boy's sexy ass, either. No, something about him – I don't know – touched me, somehow. He was so intelligent, so brave, and you know, so desperate for freedom. I wanted to hate him, to think of him like the dirt the Guardians told us he was. I just couldn't.

Interviewer: So you helped him to escape.

Rafe: (laughter) I tried, anyway! Dylan's a bit cocky - you might have noticed if you interviewed him already. He's brilliant, sure. But maybe not quite as much of a genius as he thinks. So we had this great plan, but he forgot one important detail. He nearly died because of that.

Interviewer: I gather you've come to his rescue a number of times – for example, when he was kidnapped by Kevin Randall.

Rafe: Dylan does get his ass into trouble! But you know, it feels so good when I can help him. I grew up with everyone telling me I was a piece of shit, so I kind of believed it. Dylan made me see that I could be strong and smart as anyone. I'll tell you the truth, man – nobody's ever cared about me the way Dylan does.

Interviewer: Does that mean you've forgiven him for leading you on so that he could get out of the camp? For seducing you? Making you into a fag?

Rafe: Who are you calling a fag? (pause) Sorry. I guess you're just winding me up, right? It's still hard to think about the way we started. When he's not around, I start to wonder. Does he really give a shit about me? Is he with somebody else? But I have to believe him when he says he loves me. Without that trust – well, we wouldn't have anything, would we?

Interviewer: No, I guess not. So, Rafe, is there anything else you'd like to share before we end this interview?

Rafe: Hmm. Life's been tough since Dyl and I got together. But I don't regret it – any of it. Let 'em say that I'm as much of a pervert as he is. I don't care. When we're together, the whole world just goes away. Everything bad and ugly and painful – it all just disappears. There's just him and me, in this pure, bright place.

And I think that's the way it's supposed to be.

Interviewer: Thank you, Rafe, for being so open. I just want to remind visitors that they can read your entire story in Quarantine. And if they'd like more insight into you and Dylan and your unusual love affair, there are more than a dozen excerpts posted as part of the Quarantine blog tour. Furthermore, every comment on any post here at Beyond Romance counts as an entry for the blog tour grand prize, a $50 gift certificate.

In Memory of My Dad

By Berengaria Brown (Guest Blogger)

When I was small my Mom was quite ill. My Dad had never had to look after me for more than an hour or two at a time until then, and he wasn’t too sure what to do with me. The first day he bought me a wonderful set of blocks with bridges, and towers, and awesome things in the box, and I played with them all day. I’m pretty sure he enjoyed playing with them too. At least for the first hour or so. But by the second day he was once again at a loss to know what to do with me. 

He loved reading, so he sat me down and taught me to read. I was already fascinated that the black squiggles on the pages of my books actually meant something, and picked up the idea fairly quickly. My Mom was ill for several months. Long before she had gotten better I was reading voraciously. All the kids’ books I owned, I could now read, and I read them over and over. When I got tired of that, Dad took me down to the local library, and signed me up for a membership card. That worked well for several years, until I’d read everything in the children’s section. Dad didn’t even blink. He just handed me his adult borrower card and I started to read the adult collection.

Some people were horrified that I might read something that little girls shouldn’t know about. Dad wasn’t worried. “If she doesn’t understand it, it won’t hurt her. And if she knows what it means, there’s no need to hide it from her”, he said.

Likely that explains why I write FF, and MM, and ménage, as well as MF romance. I like to read all genres so that’s what I write.

Aquamarine: Courage and Comfort by Berengaria Brown

Blurb

Edmund’s sister Mavis was tragically widowed by a hit-and-run driver, when her husband was rushing to the hospital for the birth of their son. Now Mavis can’t cope with the loss of her husband and a new fatherless baby to care for.

Mavis’ friend, AJ, tells Edmund that he and his partner, Utah, must go and retrieve an aquamarine. The stone will bring courage and comfort to Mavis. It will hold the spirit of her dead husband and she will be able to rear their son and have a fulfilling life.

Only lovers can find the stone. Edmund and Utah are a little skeptical, but very willing to try.

PG13 Excerpt

Utah just smiled at his partner. Edmund had all the confidence in the world, and likely some naughty plan in mind. Well, they'd soon see just how doable his plans were. One of the things Utah loved about Edmund was his insouciant acceptance of sex as an integral part of daily life. And Utah's dick was always ready to get involved in sex with Edmund!

Even just looking at Edmund in that tight, body-hugging wetsuit, made Utah's cock grow and harden, and his balls tighten. Down boy he thought widening his stance a little to ease the pressure on his equipment. First we find this mystical aquamarine for Mavis. Then we fuck each other's brains out.

The more he thought about it, the crazier it sounded. Here on a public beach where dozens, even hundreds, of people swam every day, they were going to swim out to a sandbar and find a precious stone. They would then give this stone to Edmund's sister, and with no other help -- no therapy, no psychiatrists, no lawyers, nothing else at all -- she would accept the loss of her husband and focus on rearing her kid. When he put it like that, it almost sounded like he was the one who needed a good therapist. Deluded didn't come close to explaining the lack of logic in those thoughts. Ah well, all he could do was support Edmund. AJ had made it quite plain Edmund would not succeed if Utah wasn't there with him. And anyway, he wanted to be with Edmund. Wanted to help him.

Shrugging his shoulders he swung around to look at Edmund. "Are you ready to go fetch this rock?"

"Yes, sure. But how are we supposed to recognize it?"

"Hell if I know. Isn't it supposed to call to you, or something?"

Buy now from Torquere Books!

Bio: Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (magic, ghosts, vampires, fairies, dragons, and werewolves), futuristic, medieval, and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men, two women/one man, three men/one woman…. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

Blog: http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com

Website: http://berengariabrown.webs.com/

Friend me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/berengaria.brown#!/berengaria.brown?v=info

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/BerengariaBrown

An Interview with Dylan Moore

Dylan Moore is one of the heroes from Quarantine. He's brilliant, charming, devious, and extremely sexual... But perhaps I should let him speak for himself.

Interviewer: Tell us a bit about how you ended up at Camp Malheur.

Dylan: I grew up in Boston as an only child. My father's a partner in one of the top law firms in the city. Mom died when I was four, so dad – and the household help – pretty much raised me.

I knew that I was gay from the time I was about eleven, but my father simply couldn't accept that fact. He figured that somehow I'd grow out of this silly attraction to men. Meanwhile, he kept me at home as much as possible, trying to prevent me from acting on my desires. I couldn't stand it – it was like being in prison. Finally, the week after my high school graduation, I ran away to Sanfran.

I was in heaven – a kid in a candy store! Sanfran had the biggest gay population of any place in the country. I played around for a while, then I met Miguel and fell in love. We'd been together for nearly six months when the Plague broke out.

Interviewer: I understand that your partner became infected.

Dylan: Yes – I watched him die. A horrible death – I still have nightmares. By that time the Plague riots had been raging for weeks. The media blamed the disease on gays. The fear everyone felt morphed into anger and violence. For a while, the daily total of men tortured or murdered approached the count of those who succumbed to the virus. Then the Robbies appeared on the streets and started testing everyone. They arrested any male with the homogene as a “Plague carrier”. I remember them beating down the door of Miguel's and my apartment. I didn't resist as they dragged me into the windowless transport van. I'd lost everything at that point. I really didn't care.

Interviewer: And you ended up in the quarantine camp. When was that?

Dylan: Seven long years ago. I'd fallen from heaven into hell – and I was stuck there. The first year I just tried to cope, but after that I started working on plans. Saving discarded bits of electronics. Testing the camp's defenses. Infiltrating whatever systems I could. I made really slow progress, but I figured anything I could do to increase the possibility of escape was worth undertaking.

Interviewer: When did you first see Rafe?

Dylan: Remotely? Or in the flesh? (smiles) Maybe six or eight months ago, I managed to hack the camp's internal 3DV system, so that I could spy on the humans in the control room. One of the guards looked like a vicious brute, but the other one – Rafe – seemed more sensitive and approachable. Sometimes he'd be reading. Then he'd stare at the surveillance screens for a while as though he felt guilty. He was hot, too – big and muscular, but without an ounce of fat. I didn't have a lot of hope – he was probably straight as Uncle Ike - but I decided to see if I could get him interested in me.

Interviewer: Your plan seemed to work brilliantly.

Dylan: Well, I suppose the fact that Rafe and I are now lovers is testimony to something! It was tough, though, fighting against his fear and guilt. He truly believed that gays were sub-human, that they deserved quarantine because they had infected the country with the virus. I had to overcome that prejudice as well as his own reluctance to admit he could be attracted to another man.

Interviewer: You managed to make him fall for you, though.

Dylan: Sometimes I feel ashamed of how I used him. Now, of course, I love him, but at the time I was acting out of a mixture of expediency and lust. Rafe was my ticket out of quarantine. The fact that he was such a hunk was an extra perk.

Gradually I won him over. And then, when I screwed up, nearly killing myself in the process, the guy came to my rescue. I realized then how close I felt to him, how much I needed him – in the end, you might say that Rafe actually seduced me.

Interviewer: It took a while for him to trust you, though.

Dylan: I don't blame him one bit. Not only did I exploit his good nature – and his libido – but I effectively made him an outlaw, just as I was. Of course, he chose to save me, so I'm not completely responsible. He could have turned me in. I'm eternally grateful for his compassion and care.

Interviewer: And what happened after you left Camp Malheur?

Dylan: I'm certainly not going to tell you that! In a short interview like this, I couldn't do Rafe's and my adventures justice. Anyway, I'd really like visitors to go read our whole story.

However, the Quarantine blog tour includes a dozen different excerpts from the book, for readers who want to know more. The full tour schedule is available in Lisabet's July newsletter.

Interviewer: And every comment here at Beyond Romance counts as an entry toward the blog tour grand prize. 

Thanks for talking with us, Dylan. I have one more question. What do you think Rafe will say when I interview him?

Dylan: Well – I hope and pray he's say he loves me. Because honestly, at this point, I don't think I could live without him.