New release and giveaway! #gayromance #homophobia #giveaway

Happy Sunday! I have another new release that I am featuring today – and another giveaway. Read on for news about my dystopian scifi MM romance The H-Gene, first book in what (I hope) will be a series called After the Plague.

I’m giving away an ebook copy of the book to one lucky reader who leaves a comment with his or her email address.

Below you’ll find the blurb and an exclusive excerpt. The excerpt is PG, but the book itself is definitely five flames – explicit gay romance with a HFN ending.

Blurb

Dylan Moore will do anything for freedom. Seven years ago, a gay plague spread to heterosexuals, killing millions and sparking brutal anti-gay riots. The Guardians rounded up men who tested positive for the homogene and imprisoned them in remote quarantine centers like desolate Camp Malheur. Since then, Dylan has hacked the camp's security systems and hoarded spare bits of electronics, seeking some way to escape. He has concluded the human guards are the only weakness in the facility's defenses.

Camp guard Rafe Cowell is H-negative. He figures the lust he feels watching prisoner 3218 masturbate on the surveillance cameras must be due to his loneliness and isolation. When he finally meets the young queer, he discovers that Dylan is brilliant, brave, sexy as hell — and claims to be in love with Rafe. Despite his qualms, Rafe finds he can't resist the other man's charm. By the time Dylan asks for his help in escaping, Rafe cares too much for Dylan to refuse.

Dylan's plan goes awry and Rafe comes to his rescue. Soon they're both fugitives, fleeing from militant survivalists, murderous androids, homophobic ideologues and a powerful man who wants Dylan as his sexual toy. Hiding in the Plague-ravaged city of Sanfran, Dylan and Rafe learn there's far more than their own safety at stake. Can they help prevent the deaths of millions more people? And can Rafe trust the love of a man who deliberately seduced him in order to escape from quarantine?

Note: This novel was previously released by Pride Publishing under the title Quarantine. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.

Exclusive Excerpt (PG)

He halted outside the second gate, across from the raised bridge. He was more than twenty feet from the moat, but the rotten egg stench still assaulted his senses. There was no way Dylan could have made it across that hellish river. The guy must be here somewhere, between the outer fence and that stinking pit of poison.

And when I find him? Rafe couldn’t help asking himself. Then what? If I don’t bring him back, I’m pretty much signing my own death warrant.

He pushed the thought away. Turning left, he began a slow circle around the camp. As in the inmate precinct, there were no trees, just the occasional boulder making long shadows in the setting sun.

Rafe examined each unlikely hiding place, searching without success for Dylan or any sign that he’d been there. Concrete towers at each corner of the fence supported spotlights and housed the transformers that fed current to the steel mesh. No one crouched in the angles between these buildings and the barrier. The maintenance entrances were all inside the fence, so Dylan couldn’t be hiding inside the cement boxes.

Where the fuck are you, Dylan? Give me some clue.

It took Rafe more than an hour to make his way around the eight-mile perimeter and back to the bridge. By then the sky overhead had turned azure, while red and orange clouds striped the western horizon. He stared again at the steel webbing arching over the moat. Could Dylan have somehow figured out how to lower the pivoting segment to cross over, then raise it again?

Considering all the amazing technical feats the inmate had managed inside, nothing was impossible.

He inserted a pair of nose plugs fished from his jacket pocket, then approached the bridge control box. When he touched his left and right index fingers to the sensor panels, the compartment swung open. There was no sign of tampering. He pressed the “Down” button. The hinged section squealed slightly as it swung down and locked into place.

Rafe sucked in a deep breath and squeezed the trike accelerator. The vehicle sped up the ramp, across the temporary span, and down the other side. Remembering his training, still holding his breath, he activated the “Up” button from the matching control box on the far end of the bridge. The moving segment flipped back to the open position.

He brought the cycle to a stop some thirty feet beyond the moat and let his lungs empty. He stared back at the ugly bulk of Malheur Camp. The floodlights came on, bathing the ground around the fence in a sickly yellow glare. The barren soil where he stood, outside the range of the lights, was still a featureless gray. Evening deepened as Rafe perched there on the trike, trying to figure out what to do next.

If Dylan had made it past the moat, he’d be on foot. Rafe could easily catch him on the cycle, but only if he knew which direction the boy had taken. Dylan was probably too smart to keep to the road. On the other hand, he’d said he was headed for the city. Rafe guessed he meant Sanfran. Ellay was too far away and, since the eruption of 2024, nobody really considered Portland a city anymore.

Southwest, then. If he wanted to find the boy, that’s the way he should head. But maybe he should give up, go back to the camp and admit that they’d all been outsmarted. The Guardians would probably discipline both him and Turk, but what could the higher-ups do, really? Fire them for incompetence?

Rafe gave a bitter laugh. As the sound died away, he thought he heard something else—something like a moan, barely audible but definitely human.

He listened carefully to the quiet night. There it was again—a soft sound of someone in agony, coming from near the bridge.

Dylan! Rafe scrambled off the trike and headed towards the sound, holding his breath once again.

He scanned the bank. There! By the edge of the moat, in the shadow of the criss-crossed girders, there was something that looked like a pile of rags. He inched closer, trying to ignore the sting as the toxic vapors attacked his skin. The bundle of cloth stirred and coughed. Rafe rushed over, crouched down and turned the body onto its back. Then he gasped and choked himself as noxious fumes rushed into his throat.

Dylan’s cheeks and brow were peppered with oozing sores. His eyes were swollen shut. His thick tongue protruded between cracked lips. His fingers twitched feebly.

Rafe half dragged, half carried the younger man away from the river of poison. He stretched the limp body out on the ground, shielded by the trike. “Dylan!” he cried, as the fresher air filled his chest. “It’s me, baby. Oh, God, Dylan!”

Dylan coughed and sputtered. Greenish spittle trickled from his mouth.

“Breathe, kid. Breathe!”

Dylan seemed to hear. His raw lips moved, as though he wanted to say something.

Rafe needed water, to wash the man’s wounds and clean away the chemical residue. He needed antibacterial salve and collagen strips and enzyme patches to stimulate healing. Not to mention an oxygen tank to force the poison out of Dylan’s lungs.

That meant civilization, or what passed for it here in the wastelands of Oregon. The closest settlements, though, were at least two hundred miles away.

Rafe lifted Dylan’s body once more and settled it on the seat of the trike. Dylan slumped against the windscreen. Rafe mounted the bike behind the inmate, slipping one arm around his waist for support while steering with the other.

“Rafe?” Dylan’s voice was weak but intelligible. He raised his head then let it flop back on to Rafe’s chest.

“Yeah, it’s me. Just relax, boy. Hang on. I’m going to get you some help.” Rafe started the cycle and turned it towards the ribbon of crumbling asphalt that stretched westward.

The other man leaned against Rafe’s body. “Mmm,” he murmured. “Good.”

Strangely enough, it was good. Despite his worry about Dylan, Rafe felt a kind of contentment as they raced off into the night. The wind was fresh and cool in his face. The motor hummed between his thighs. Dylan’s weight was a welcome reminder that, for once, Rafe was not alone.

The cycle ate up the miles. Dylan slept, curled against him. Inside Rafe’s chest, a quiet joy took root and grew stronger. For the first time in years, Rafe felt free.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/7233-the-hgene-after-the-plague-book-1/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08CVNK6NL

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08CVNK6NL

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1032512

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-h-gene-lisabet-sarai/1137338272?ean=2940164186050

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/the-h-gene

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54529211-the-h-gene

Don’t forget to leave a comment (with your email). You could win a copy of this dramatic, arousing novel.

Review Tuesday: New York Heat by Cameron D. James - #ReviewTuesday #MMRomance #LGBTQ

New York Heat by Cameron D. James

Deep Desires Press, 2018

Club 21 has long been an institution for the New York City gay community. Dan is in his fifties, but he remembers his youthful erotic adventures at the club, many in the company of his close friend Brad. He can hardly believe he’s now the owner of Club 21, hoping to serve a new generation of LGBTQ New Yorkers and make some money at the same time. Sometimes he doubts his ability to keep the place afloat; he never realized how much effort and stress would be involved in running his own business. With his young lover Ken at his side, though, he’s determined to succeed.

Ken is one of the club’s famed Go-Go boys, but he’s more than a fling. Despite the age difference, Ken is devoted to Dan, and vice versa.

Meanwhile, Brad is pursuing his own dream, buying the now-defunct leather bar next to Club 21 in order to transform it into a hot yoga studio. Like Dan, Brad has developed a serious relationship with a much younger man. Simon is more than willing to follow Brad from Toronto to New York and help him realize his vision of New York Heat. Brad can hardly believe how fortunate he is.

Both men’s plans appear to be flourishing. Dan’s Club 21 is as popular as ever; meanwhile, renovations are complete and the yoga center is almost ready to open. Then a young man terrified by his own homoerotic desires pulls a gun in the middle of the crowded dance floor and murders more than a dozen people, including one of the club’s bartenders.

The catastrophe almost kills Dan’s dream as well. He’s too heartsick to keep the club going. However, with the help of his friends—who are really more like family—he comes to understand that Club 21 belongs not just to him, but to the community. It needs to survive in order to prove that hate and fear will never triumph over love.

New York Heat is an ambitious novel. The plot summary above does not begin to capture its richness. The book follows the developing relationships of five gay couples who are connected with Club 21. In addition to Dan and Ken, and Brad and Simon, the author brings readers into the lives of Lance and Liam, a bartender and a dancer; Jake and Paul, a bartender and a DJ; and Xander and Gabriel, Go-Go boy and bouncer, respectively. Each pair has a different dynamic, driven by the history, doubts, and fears of the men involved. They have two things in common: true love and hot sex.

Indeed, there’s a lot of sex in this book—twenty eight scenes according to the author, though I didn’t count them. I enjoyed these scenes, at least partly because I haven’t read that many MM erotic romances written by gay men. On the other hand, I have penned a few books in this genre myself, so I was curious as to whether there were major differences between what I’d imagined and what I would assume are descriptions of first hand experience.

These guys are all pretty randy. However, their sex drives are (very realistically) governed by their emotions as well as external circumstances. When the characters are stressed, anxious or depressed, their libido goes out the window, even when they’re in the company of their lovers. I appreciated this. After the shooting, nobody has sex, for a long time. A dark cloud of death and failure hangs over the characters. Hope and desire are inextricably linked. As Club 21 rises from the ashes of tragedy, the characters’ receptivity to sex increases as well.

The crisis of the shooting is handled very well. Likewise, I found the final chapters which bring the return of hope and healing a true inspiration. On the other hand, the chapters before the shooting seemed to drag a bit. The author chronicles the development of love and trust within each of the couples, but I found some of the chapters repetitious. It also took me a while to sort out who was who, especially since six of the ten main characters have one syllable names.

Overall, though, I really enjoyed this novel. I found it quite a contrast with Mr. James’ earlier tales about Club 21, some of which feature the same characters. Those stories were erotica, tales of hot casual hookups between sexy guys. New York Heat, on the contrary, presents a set of intertwined love stories. The sex is still as hot, but it’s a very different emotional experience for the men involved, and for the reader.

Cameron James has a talent for writing both sorts of stories.

IDAHOT Thoughts (#idahot #homophobia #lgbtqi)

I just don’t get it. Why should anyone else care who I love or have sex with, as long as my partner(s) are consenting adults? What is so scary about two men or two women kissing? About someone born with male genitalia who’s convinced she’s an anatomical mistake, that psychologically, emotionally or spiritually she’s a woman? Why do some people feel threatened by the fact that I’m personally attracted to both men and women?

I mean, how does it affect them? In what sense is it any of their business, as long as I’m not acting indecently in public, or trying to convert them to my point of view? They feel perfectly justified trying to convert me, of course, or at least the many LGBTQI youths who are dragged into conversion “therapy” in an attempt to turn them into “normal” individuals. Isn’t that supremely hypocritical?

Today is the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia, marked around the world since 2004 as a day to raise awareness regarding sexual minorities. The date was chosen to commemorate the World Health Organization’s decision, in 1990, to stop classifying homosexuality as a disease.

In some ways, and some places, things have improved for LGBTQI folk. It’s easy to believe that we’re gaining ground in the fight for acceptance and equality. Then you hear about what’s going on in Chechyna, and you realize the battle has just begun.

Why should we have to fight in the first place? Where does all the fear and the hate come from? Is it a natural consequence of being confronted by the unfamiliar, the classic fear of the unknown?

Maybe that very human reaction accounts for some of the hostility. However, mostly I blame institutions and organizations for deliberately fostering antagonism toward sexual minorities. Religious groups, social movements and governments use fear to extend their control over their members. Demonizing out-groups is a classic tactic to increase loyalty and commitment to the in-group.

That suggests two ways to counter homophobia. First, unmask the inhumane tactics of the organizations who benefit from the fear and the hostility. Help their members see the self-serving nature of their hate-mongering tactics.

Second, incorporate sexual minorities into the in-group. Straight people need to see that LGBTQI folk are just people—more similar to them than different. Ultimately, everyone has the same needs, for security, for respect, for love, for family, for connection. Dividing up humankind based on sexual or gender orientation makes very little sense.

I try to do my part in my writing. I have gay, lesbian and bisexual characters in my books. I work hard to show that their sexual orientation does not define who they are. Like you—any of you who are reading this—they are just people.

M/M Erotic Romance

 

 

 

Lesbian Erotica

Bisexual Erotica

M/M Erotic Romance

Lesbian Menage Erotic Romance

Review Tuesday: Best of Singapore Erotica (#Singapore #censorship #ReviewTuesday))

Best of Singapore Erotica

Edited by L.Q. Pan and Richard Lord

Monsoon Books, 2006 ISBN 978-981-05-5301-2

Anyone who is at all familiar with Singapore, in reality or reputation, will find the concept of Singaporean erotica rather difficult to believe. Who could be publishing erotica in prudish, politically restrictive, cleanliness-obsessed Singapore, where one can be fined for chewing gum or not flushing the toilet, where I once saw a movie ("Cave Girl" with a young, nubile Daryl Hannah) so severely censored that characters showed up in the credits that I'd never seen on the screen? In fact, the publishers of this volume received special permission from government censors to produce and sell this book, with the stipulation that it had to be sealed in cellophane to protect those who might be offended or corrupted by its salacious content. It was with considerable curiosity that I tore off the wrapper and began to sample what the authoritarian city-state had to offer in the way of sexy writing.

What I discovered was a collection of stories, essays and poems that help clarify why Singapore has a sex-hostile reputation. Legal restrictions on homosexuality and other "deviant" sexual acts are only the beginning. The obstacles to satisfying sex in the city-state appear to be many and formidable: ferocious upward mobility and a punishing work ethic; shortage of affordable housing which leads to young adults living with their parents in situations with little privacy; traditional values that favor security over romance; and finally, a complex, multi-racial class hierarchy with social distances that are near-impossible to bridge.

In spite of, perhaps even because of, all these barriers, some of the authors represented in this volume do succeed in creating arousing and emotionally involving tales that I would classify as erotica. One of my favorites is Ricky Low's "Clean Sex", in which a successful young Chinese businessman falls in love with an Indonesian house maid, only to lose her when she's accused of stealing the expensive presents he has bought for her. Another highlight is "Naked Screw" by Alison Lester, which portrays an initially confrontational but ultimately sensual encounter between a free-spirited ex-pat who likes to walk around her apartment without clothing, and a traditional South Asian laborer who claims that her nakedness offends him. Meihan Boey's "A Dummy's Guide to Losing Your Virginity", in which she chronicles her methodical approach to finding and bedding her first lover, is a clever comic gem:

Feel free to fit us both into any convenient category of human behavior. Rest assured, I will not complain. Complaining, I find, is the refuge of the weak and unimaginative who have neither the courage to put up with shit nor the wherewithal to get out of it.

"And Then She Came", by Jonathan Lim, is a creepy yet unquestionably sexy story of a helpless student "not sober enough to be superstitious", who attracts the attention of a voracious female ghost. Aaron Ang's "A Perfect Exit" is a sweet, sentimental and finally surprising story of geriatric lust. I also enjoyed "Self-Portrait with Three Monkeys", by Chris Mooney-Singh, although it is more a character study than a story, the heroine a middle-aged career woman who consoles herself for her loveless couplings with an orgy of art. Another notable contribution is Weston Sun Wensheng's "An MRT Chronicle", a wry commentary on the trials of being young and horny in a society that offers no privacy at all.

Some of the other stories in this collection, however, made me suspect that the authors had not had much opportunity to sample currently available erotic literature. Some entries like Robert Yeo's "What We Did Last Summer", Gerrie Lim's "Walking the Dog", and Emilio Malvar's "Expeditions in the Twilight Zone", are dispassionate essays about sexual topics that are moderately intriguing but hardly engage the senses or emotions. Other tales like "'Do You Have a Toothbrush?' by Lee Lien Mingmei, Rachel Loh's "Body Drafts", and Felix Chong's "Dancer from the Dance" are little more than descriptions of sexual encounters, with little if any plot. I suppose that in Singapore, the impact of simply having sex might be enough to make a story seem worthwhile, but for a reader who has been spoiled by the likes of M.Christian, Alison Tyler and Marilyn Jaye Lewis, just sex is not sufficient. Finally, there is Richard Lord's "The Phoenix Tattoos", which has the makings of an incredibly intriguing story, but which simply ends without resolution, intensely frustrating, for this reader at least.

Best of Singapore Erotica also includes a handful of poems. Most are, in my opinion, undistinguished. However, Jonathan Lim's "Speedo Dream" is an exception, a sleek, streamlined homoerotic meditation:

i could not breathe air whispered thinly around me whispered sins that sounded like heaven

... i longed to lick the salt off that skin coat the smoothness with mine

All in all, Best of Singapore Erotica is uneven, but worth reading, not only for sensual thrills but also for cultural education. Although some contributions seem amateurish, the editors deserve respect for making an attempt to foster the development of erotic writing against considerable odds.

 

What if homophobia wasn't a problem?

By TK Paige (Guest Blogger)

Hello everyone. Let me start by saying thanks to Lisabet for having me here today.

I am a brand new author with Totally Bound Publishing or anywhere else for that matter. I always wanted to write but it wasn’t until last year that it started to click for me. For some reason, it was my discovery of M/M romances that kicked it off. I wrote a few short stories at first but was having trouble coming up with a longer project.

In M/M romance, homophobia and prejudice are widely used for obvious reasons. But things are changing, hopefully. Until I moved recently, I lived in a small town for eight years. Very small. In the Bible Belt. While my personal views didn’t line up with most of the area, the people were great. A good deal of them anyway. So when I was kicking around ideas for a longer project I started wondering. There were all these books where the small town kid is reviled and driven out when he is discovered to be gay. Well, what if a town did the opposite. What if they accepted him just as he was?

And I had a character. James Hara, a small town kid who was not only accepted but becomes a big part of the community as an adult. A well-adjusted man with a strong sense of humor. Somebody that has had the good fortune of being exactly who he is, out in the open all his life. What if he fell for someone who has never had that? Who had good reasons for staying quiet about who he was. There was my story, Here For You, and Totally Bound Publishing shocked the hell out of me when they offered me a contract for it.

Welcome to Deacon, Oklahoma. Straight population—seven hundred and ninety-six. Gay population—James Hara. Except it really isn’t that bad, because when he came out to his hometown, something wonderful happened. They still loved him…most did anyway. The only problem is the lack of a dating pool.

Then he meets the new firefighting volunteer and he has a bigger problem. Mason is gorgeous, friendly and straight. Soon James is doing his best not to fall for his new friend. Hard to do when Mason is everything he dreams of with his humor and flashes of vulnerability.

But after a set of stressful events, he finds that maybe it is not impossible after all. If he can be patient with a man wounded by his past.

Excerpt

 

He was about six feet tall, which made him an inch or two taller than me. He was also a bit broader than me, and it was definitely a bigger bone frame that gave him the size. His white T-shirt was a little tight and wet, clinging to him in such a way it proved beyond a doubt the guy was fit. He wasn’t in any way close to being a freak of nature or body builder type of muscle bound. But he was definitely built. I was so glad that today was truck washing day.

His face was turned partially away from me so I couldn’t see his eye color or the exact shape of his face without tipping everyone off to what I was doing. So I just took in the dark brown hair with a little bit of a red tint to it. Cut a little long and shaggy, it looked casual and I liked it. It was a nice length. Just long enough to hold on to while you… Better stop that train of thought before certain parts of me proved that they still functioned in spite of the ‘dating drought’. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up giving Tosh more ammo for later.

Too late. My phone gave the message tone assigned to only her texts. I mentally kicked myself for picking that particular one when I was ticked at her the other night.

Kent turned and asked, “Is that a braying donkey?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Let me guess. That’s Tosh texting you.” He didn’t say it as a question, just assumed it was his wife.

I nodded.

“You didn’t use the crazy bitch one?”

I sighed and explained for the new guy’s benefit. “I was annoyed, not pissed off this time.”

It looked like it took some effort, but Kent managed to choke down his laughter and turned back to the newbie. Poor guy was looking a little confused at the thought of a volunteer having those ringtones set for the fire chief’s wife.

Kent took pity on him and explained. “This is James Hara. He is my wife’s best friend. Has been since they went to college together. James, this is Mason Sullivan. He just moved to the area and wants to help out.”

While I traded hellos with him, I finally had the chance to look him fully in the face. I just about swallowed my tongue.

You can buy Here For You, my debut erotic romance, at https://www.totallybound.com/here-for-you

About T.K.

T.K. Paige picked up her first book to read around the age of four and hasn’t stopped since. She discovered the M/M genre in August of 2012 and an addict was hooked.

If you see her and she is not reading, then she is thinking about the books that live in her head. It doesn’t matter what else she is doing, it is guaranteed half her brain has a plot running through it.

A stay at home mom for more years than she would like to think about, she is lucky enough to be married to a wonderful guy who encouraged her to write throughout their years together. Then when she finally did it and she told him what she was writing, he turned only slightly green and asked “Do I have to read it?” Apparently, he had dreams of her being the next Urban Fantasy sensation with her taste in movies… We won’t tell him what she watches when she is alone all day folding laundry.

https://www.facebook.com/tk.paige

http://www.tkpaige.com/

No Fear in Love

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear.” 1 John 4:18

This isn't a blog post about religion, even though I've started it with a quote from the New Testament. No, my topic today is homophobia, as part of a 'net-wide blog hop by authors of gay-oriented fiction to raise awareness about the issue.

These days, any discussion of homosexuality seems to generate a lot of anger and hostility. The typical rhetoric tends to be militant, whether supporting or opposing the rights of people to pursue sexual relationships with individuals of their own gender. When a state votes to legalize gay marriage, GLBT activists celebrate a “battle won”. When a court rules that a gay couple can't adopt children, jubilant anti-gay organizations vow to “continue the fight” against the abomination of homosexuality. Either way, there's a strong tendency to consider people on the other side of this contentious issue as “the enemy”.

Now, I believe that adults should be free to choose their sexual and life partners without any constraints related to gender. I think that two men or two women who are attracted to one another should enjoy the same rights , privileges and protections as a male/female couple, that this equality should be legally guaranteed, and that the relevant laws should be enforced. To me, this position seems rational and fair.

However, I understand that many people on the opposite side of this debate hold positions based not on reason but on emotion – specifically, fear. After all, that's what “homophobia” means, literally – fear of homosexuals. You can't argue away fear. And treating someone who harbors that kind of fear as the enemy won't help change that person's beliefs or feelings – if anything, it's likely to make those feelings more extreme.

What are homophobes afraid of? In some cases, their own sexual curiosity or repressed desires. In many cases the fear is based on misinformation or ignorance. Some homophobes believe that most gays are pedophiles, and thus fear for their children's safety. Some subscribe to the popular but ridiculous theory that homosexuals are more sexually voracious or extreme than heterosexuals, and thus somehow obscene, dirty or dangerous. Some are simply afraid of the unknown. Men who love men (or women who love women) are strange and thus threatening.

Of course many homophobes cite religious arguments for their opposition to homosexuality. Personally, I think this is just a convenient justification, masking the underlying fear. And some people truly hate gays and lesbians, considering them subhuman and worthy of extirpation. Even that kind of hate may be rooted in fear. In any case, that's why legal protections for GLBT people are so important.

I'm not sure what sort of intervention is needed to deal with extreme homophobes, the sort of people who perpetrate hate crimes. However, for less extreme cases, I believe that the solution is love.

Love? Oh come on, Pollyanna! What sort of pastel fantasy world are you living in?

I don't mean love in the romantic or erotic sense, but more in the sense of the Golden Rule. To reduce the amount of homophobia in a society, anti-gay individuals need opportunities to really get to know gay people. Only specific, positive experiences with real homosexuals will be effective in counteracting the stereotypes and myths about homosexuality in general. The more homosexual neighbors you have, the more you enjoy their company, the more you see that they're just people, not some alien, sex-crazed demons, the less strange and “icky” the whole idea of same-sex relations will become.

I'd like to believe that in some small way, my M/M fiction and that of my colleagues can play a small role in helping to diminish the fears of homophobes. Of course, M/M romance has become wildly popular, even in the conservative heartlands. The fact is, there's not much emotional difference between a gay romance and a heterosexual romance. Both deal with the growth of a loving relationship in the face of challenges. The specific problems encountered by M/M couples might be somewhat different, but the emotions are predominantly the same.

Although our characters aren't “real” gay people, they're far more realistic than the stereotypes that feed homophobia. To the extent that people can accept gay lovers in our fiction, they're more likely to be comfortable with homosexuality in real life.

But what do you think? Am I overly optimistic? Leave me a comment and I will enter you in a drawing for a copy of the M/M erotic romance anthology Gaymes, which includes my story Crossed Hearts. Be sure to include your email address in your comment if you want to part of the giveaway. I'll draw a winner on Monday the 21^st of May.

And please visit the blogs of some of the other authors participating in the Hop Against Homophobia. You'll find a full list at: http://hopagainsthomophobia.blogspot.com