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It’s Tuesday – or Tiw’s Day which is worth celebrating because Tiw, Anglo-Saxon god of ass-kicking, was the only one in the pantheon with the brass bound cojones to put his hand in the mouth of the Fenris Wolf. Commonly known as Lefty, Tiw was an all round hero, and we like heroes, don’t we.

Someone with a more than passing acquaintance with heroes is Amy Lane my guest today in celebration of the Foolish Encounters Anthology, which will be available tomorrow from Wilde City Press. Please stick around to read the excerpt and comment for a chance to win a prize.

Hi Amy, thanks for answering my questions. Could you tell me a little about your story in the anthology?

This is just a short– it’s the beginning of what could be a beautiful relationship, featuring a curious, upbeat delivery guy and a computer programmer who has been working from home just a little bit too long.

Could you please tell me about your other work?

I have got a long catalog! What’s important to remember is that this story fits in with my happy, lighter work– If I Must, Turkey in the Snow, Christmas With Danny Fit, and DoOver. It’s happy, sexy, and flirty– and I don’t do that with no strings attached very often, so it’s pretty special.

What are you working on at the moment?

The second half of the fifth (or is it eighth?) book in an epic urban fantasy m/m/f menage series that I started ten years ago.

Please could we have an excerpt?

Green hovered in the air and watched as the last batch of werewolves went sailing to the lake. They had not, as Cory suggested, combined forces and set their penises on fire while making them bleed out the asshole. (She’d been particularly cranky, and he couldn’t blame her, but still… bloodthirsty, his beloved, oh yes she was.)
But he knew the time was nearing when they had to take definitive action. They could not continue to live under siege when they were so close to having the means to defeat this enemy—one way or another.

Nicky touched down on one of the oak trees and changed form, sitting on the branch with his bare feet dangling beneath him. “Have you noticed,” he asked musingly, “that they don’t visit when the vampires are here?”
Green looked up and smiled at him, at his playfulness and his helpfulness, and his desire to be whatever they needed of him.

“I have,” he said smiling back. “I think they’re afraid.”

“Well, they should be. As far as they know, all of our vampires belch power and cook RV’s.” Nicky executed a cherry drop, landing at Green’s feet, and Green was so charmed he wrapped his arms around Nicky’s shoulder and placed a series of tickle kisses on his neck. Nicky laughed and turned into his embrace, standing on his toes so they could kiss in earnest, and Green closed his eyes to savor. Oh yes—Nicky was a blessing. He loved them all, and all he wanted from any of them was to be loved in return. He didn’t have the depth or complexity of Cory or Bracken—but Green had the feeling he’d made his peace with that. He was content to be simple, to give them affection, to take it as it was offered, and to take joy from every small moment.

Green would celebrate a lover like that to the moon and back. Nicky Kestrel was not the love of a life that spanned two millennia, but he was absolutely a lover for now—and now Green needed what Cory had needed: to, just for a moment, forget the depth of his fear for the people he loved.

Nicky opened his mouth under Green’s kiss, and Green fell into it happily. Who could know three years ago? The timid, slightly phobic young man who had been tragically forced into Green’s bed had turned into a sensual, happy lover. Green pushed the kiss, backing Nicky into the tree behind him, and Green ran his hands from Nicky’s neck down the outside of his arms, and then circled his slim hips with his long-fingered hands.

Nicky bucked against him, aroused almost instantly, and Green chuckled against his neck.

“Goddess, that’s good. What was that for?” Nicky gasped.

“Suddenly very much in love with you, lad—is that a problem?”

Nicky smiled sunnily. “I am so horny. Can we do something about that? You and me? Hell, throw in Bracken and Cory and my day is complete. Can we? Huh?”

Green nodded and continued to nibble on that flushed, pale neck.

Author Bio:

Amy Lane has two kids in college, two gradeschoolers in soccer, two cats, and two Chi-who-whats at large. She lives in a crumbling crapmansion with most of the children and a bemused spouse. She also has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes fantasy, urban fantasy, and m/m romance–and if you accidentally make eye contact, she’ll bore you to tears with why those three genres go together. She’ll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.

Links:>
website: http://www.greenshill.com
blog: http://www.writerslane.blogspot.com
Twitter: @amymaclane
FB: https://www.facebook.com/amy.lane.167
Amy is also on Pinterest

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Ho hum another Monday! But to sweeten the pill here is another interview from a series provided by authors who have contributed their work to the Foolish Encounters anthology, out on Wednesday from Wilde City Press.

Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win a prize.

My guest today is Tinnean!

What inspired you to write your story for the anthology?

This might turn out to be longer than you wanted, Elin. Last year, Marc asked for wacky prompts for April Fool’s Day. I was working on the second book in my Mann of My Dreams series, and I drew a total blank. I didn’t want to leave Marc hanging, though, so I asked a friend for help. She came up with the idea of birds spying on terrorists, which seemed amusing. However, when it turned out I’d actually need to write it, I drew a total blank. One day, while I was walking through my complex, a sudden thought came to me: suppose I kept the birds, or at least a winged species, and changed the terrorist to humans who had left Terra millennia ago? Yeah, that was the ticket. And voila, Blue and Green Persuasion was born.

Could you tell me a little about it?

I’d love to! Humans had damaged one planet too many and were once again searching for another world in which to live. At the end of their resources, they find a blue and green planet like nothing mankind has ever colonized before. Hart, the chief scout, was born with a genetic advantage: given a few words in any language, he would be able to speak and understand it. When he’s sent out in his scout pod the Sarah O. to explore, he comes across a sky-dweller, a humanoid creature who’s able to glide through the beautiful blue skies.

Could you please tell me about your other work?

Sure, and thank you for asking! They Come By Night is the latest book I’ve had published by Dreamspinner. It’s a paranormal that takes place on an Earth slightly different from ours in that there are beings living among us, vampyrs, werewolves, and… dragons? The main character, Ty Small, is a sabor, someone whose destiny in life is to feed vampyrs. He’s very well compensated for that, and in addition, he falls in love with Adam Dasani, equerry to the vampyr king. Of course there’s always a fly in the ointment, and in this case, it’s Juan de Vivar, a disgruntled vampyr who’s unhappy not to be able to claim the vampyr throne and feels possessing Ty is all he needs to make the position his own.

What are you working on at the moment?

At the moment I’m working on Greater Love Hath No Man. Originally this was a short that told the story of a character I’d introduced in another story, and it takes place in Great Britain between 1948 and 1976. James Trevalyan, heir to an old title, knows he won’t be spending his days in idleness. He comes from a long line of men who have lived to serve king and country.

Please could we have an excerpt?

This is from Blue and Green Persuasion:

Hart brought the Sarah O. to a gentle landing. “What’s the gravity?”

This planet’s gravity is 9.80665 meters per second squared.

“That’s good to know.” It meant once he stepped outside the pod, he wouldn’t be crushed or float away. “Thank you, Sarah.”

You’re welcome, Hart.

A glance at her gauges showed him the radiation level was human normal and the UV rays wouldn’t bake him to a crisp. It would be safe for him to leave the pod. Movement drew his attention, and he spotted some small, furry creatures through the view screen. He leaned forward to study them. They were about thirty centimeters in length, with a black stripe down their backs. Hart twisted the knob that activated the exterior audio, which would allow him to hear them.

They made a barking sound as they raced toward what must be their warrens and dove into them. The barks were simply vocalizations warning of danger; there was no other communication. These could be a form of nourishment, and his mouth watered at the thought of roasting one over an open fire.

“Sarah, analyze the atmosphere.”

Yes, Hart. She set to work.

Author Bio:

Tinnean has been writing since the 3rd grade, where she was inspired to try her hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn’t survive the passage of time; however, her love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school she became a member of the magazine staff, where she contributed a number of stories.

It was with the advent of the family’s second computer – the first intimidated everyone – that her writing took off, enhanced in part by fanfiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.

While involved in fandom, she was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now she concentrates on her original characters, and recent novels have received honorable mention in the 2013 and 2014 Rainbow Awards.

A New Yorker at heart, she resides in SW Florida with her husband and two computers.

Ernest Hemingway’s words reflect Tinnean’s devotion to her craft: Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.

She can be contacted at tinneantoo@gmail.com

She can be found on Live Journal http://tinnean.livejournal.com/
On Twitter @tinneantoo
On Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Tinnean

If you’d like to sample her earlier works, they can be found at http://www.angelfire.com/fl5/tinnssinns/Welcome1.html

Buy links
Dreamspinner: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5954
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/They-Come-Night-Tinnean-ebook/dp/B00S6ZT3I6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1426812216&sr=8-1&keywords=they+come+by+night+by+tinnean
Are: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html

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Sunday – just the day to cwtch down with a good book and a Toblerone! But first please read this interview with the next author to contribute to the Foolish Encounters anthology, soon to be released by Wilde City Press. Just click on the cover to go to WCP’s website to learn more.

Or you could stay here, read the interview and comment to get a chance to win a prize!

My guest today is Tali Spencer

What inspired you to write your story for the anthology?

I wandered into a Facebook conversation one day where authors and readers were talking about creepy shifters and I quipped that spiders might be fun. Because spiders. I’ve toyed with spider stories for years. Arachnids are really quite admirable when you think about it, though not especially sexy. But they’re beautiful in their way. I used to play with tarantulas as a kid growing up in El Paso, Texas, and still love to watch web-weaving spiders in my garden. So when Marc asked me to write a spider shifter story for the anthology I thought it would be fun. I set the story in Wisconsin where I was born and called it “Well Hello, Eight Eyes.”

Could you tell me a little about it?

I went for the odd and wrote a contemporary fantasy. “Well Hello, Eight Eyes” starts out with Tanner, a young man deep in grief who risks going out on Lake Michigan despite knowing there will be storm. The storm destroys his boat and Tanner gets washed up on an island. The islanders are less than friendly but one of them—cute, quirky, and gay Cory—takes him in. Before long, they hit it off and Tanner decides to pursue the attraction. But Cory is acting mysteriously and there’s this small matter of spiders…. Actually, the spiders are a BIG matter!

Could you please tell me about your other work?

Most of my work is science fiction and fantasy, with a focus on character-driven plots. I like to have fun with the genre and some of my books are tongue-in-cheek. Thick as Thieves, for example, features a giant barbarian who uses a unicorn horn in an inappropriate way and ends up a bit sex-crazed. Some of my other work is much darker, like Sorceror’s Knot, which has violent themes. My free stories include a fun contemporary set in an Italian-American bakery, and I feature erotic serial science fiction on my blog.

What are you working on at the moment?

After a horrific year health wise, I’m putting finishing touches on the follow up to Thick as Thieves. I’m also writing two more books in my Uttor series. In addition, I’m vetting a completed epic fantasy for submission to my publisher.

Please could we have an excerpt?

Certainly, here’s a short piece from “Well Hello, Eight Eyes”

At least the fire burning in the stove was warm and cozy. Keeping the rest of his body securely covered, Tanner unbent his legs and thrust his bare feet out from the folds of the blanket and extended them toward the radiating heat. He didn’t expect Cory to jump from the sofa and back several feet. What the hell—
Cory’s eyes were wide and scared, his hair sticking up in a hairdresser’s nightmare. Catching Tanner’s look of surprise, he looked slightly abashed.
“Are your feet cold?” He moved toward the other room, probably his bedroom. “I don’t have slippers for you. My feet are small. But I have some big socks. I layer them in winter. They’re warm.”
“No, I don’t need socks. I’m just warming my feet at your nice fire. Stop being so jumpy and just sit down, okay?”
“Okay.” Still looking embarrassed, he edged back to the sofa. Gingerly, he perched on the edge. “I’ve never had a stranger in my house.”
“I can tell.” Tanner leaned forward, half expecting Cory to leap up again. “Why are you being so twitchy? Were you in combat or something? Iraq?”
That prompted a short laugh and a shake of Cory’s head. It was dry now, red with warm golden lights. “No. I… I’ve never left the island. I just… I’m careful. Maybe too much, but it’s because I’m different. I’ve always been different, different from people like you. Fragile.”
Tanner fought a grin. “You don’t look fragile.”
“I don’t?” Cory looked pleased. “How do I look?”
“Kind of cute. And hot, in a boy next door way.” He hadn’t been seeking a reason to go there, but… it was true. Cory’s big green eyes and shy smile, boyish freckles, and compact body were definitely cute, and the boldly colored plaid shirt only added to his vibrant appeal. In fact, his bounding energy was kind of adorable when it wasn’t startling the hell out of houseguests.

Author Bio

I am fascinated by swords, mythology, and everything ancient and magical. Sword and sandals? I’m in! But I also love bodice-rippers, Regency romances, magical realism, pulpy detective stories, cozy mysteries, and South American literature.

Though I grew up as a bit of a nomad, I currently live in Pennsylvania with my husband and travel whenever I can. Every destination yields a story or three.

When not writing, I read everything (really, everything), experiment with food, and take long walks with my loving, if slightly neurotic, poodle.
You can follow Tali on Twitter, Facebook, and Pinterest.

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Good day – and here’s number 2 in our interview series from authors who have contributed stories to the Foolish Encounters anthology which will be available on April 1st from Wilde City Press.

Want to know more details – just click on the cover.

Please note: there is a small contest – comment to the post for a chance to win a small prize, provided by me personally. This is in no way affiliated to Wilde City Press’s formal book launch and blog tour which will taking place via Pride Promotions from April 8th. Look out for that, it’ll be rocking.

My guest today is Freddy MacKay, another prime mover in the inception of the anthology.

~

What inspired you to write your story for the anthology?

I picked a prompt from a Rainbow Gold Review event that had to do with an alien being the Easter Bunny. I grabbed the absurdity and ran with it. If an alien was the Easter Bunny then what else is possible? *mwahahaha*

Could you tell me a little about The Nut Job.

The Nut Job is a science fiction, absurdist story starring aliens from the IMP Universe (I shouldered into Angel Martinez’s Universe – the boys needed to know each other). We have have our Napoleon-complex captain, Spencer, who is awfully squirrelly. Bikkas, his first officer, who tends to get Sasquatch hunters after him when he visits our lovely planet. Bope, our timid bunny-shifter who is a helmsman and scout that doesn’t actually scout. And Krapor, the ship mechanic whose bending ability surpasses all expectations.

These four lovely Nutcracker crewmen are visiting Earth to collect nuts, specifically Walnuts from the Canadian wilderness. Of course, things don’t exactly go as planned.

Could you please tell me about your other work?

I write a variety of works in the Queer fiction genre, everything from contemporary to fantasy to science fiction. So, yeah, not a whole lot of focus on genre, but the core to my stories is the same. I want interesting literature showing a variety of characters, and emphasis is always the story, the characters and their journey. I love to explore human nature and all its facets.

What are you working on at the moment?

I am working on a fantasy short story and the third book in my Finding Peace series, Days Gone By.

Please could we have an excerpt?

The Nut Job

Thank the stars.
Finally, they could leave the outpost and not have to worry about delivering Rcrred anymore. He had been dropped off and signed for by their OIL contact, Sissal. Spencer normally felt a pang of guilt when the cobra shifter got stuck with a shit job, but not this time. As captain of the Nutcracker, all Spencer felt was relief that the dik-dik shifter couldn’t step foot on his bridge again.
“It’s peaceful.” Spencer exhaled, slumping in his chair. “No frantic yelling or nervous pacing.”
“Now that Rcrred is gone, yes,” Bikkas agreed. “Do you know he made me clean the kitchen three times after each meal? Three! Who in their right mind does that?”
Bope snorted. “The little Yervath definitely had issues.”
“Issues with a degree in bantering,” Spencer added.
They all nodded in agreement.
“I can’t believe the Home Office made us bring him.” Bikkas shoved away from his post, chair swinging in Spencer’s direction.
“We were on the way here. We couldn’t exactly say no,” he replied.
“I wanted to wring his neck when he organized the fitness station,” Bikkas grumbled.
“Same here.” Bope patted Bikkas’s arm. “Like when he reorganized my navigation files.”
Spencer’s tail flicked. “He alphabetized the kitchen pantry too.”
“Gods, how could one little dik-dik cause so much havoc?” Bikkas sighed.
“Spencer got even… stunned the little Yervath plenty of times.” Bope grinned, long ears swiveling. “I think Rcrred was building a tolerance.”
“He shouldn’t have gone near my chair.” Spencer sniffed and crossed his arms.
Bikkas wagged his finger at Spencer. “Rcrred had a twitch by the time we left him at Sissal’s. He’s going to report you.”
“He won’t,” Spencer said with more certainty than he felt. I hope. “Rcrred’s too em-barrassed about the first time I stunned him.”
They all nodded together again.
“That was pretty rough,” Bope shuddered. “You really shouldn’t have had the stun gun set that high.”
“I do not feel sorry for him.” Spencer tapped his claws against the armrests. “He was unbolting my chair.”

Author Bio

Freddy grew up in the Midwest, playing sports and running around outside. And honestly, that much has not changed since Freddy was small and throwing worms at other kids, expect worm throwing has been replaced with a healthy geocaching addiction. Freddy enjoys traveling and holds the view a person should continually to learn about new things and people whenever possible.

Freddy’s contemporary LGBTQ book, Incubation: Finding Peace 2, won 3rd Place – Best Gay Erotic Fiction in the 2012 Rainbow Awards. In 2013, Freddy’s story, Internment, tied for 3rd Place – Best Gay Fantasy in the Rainbow Awards. Freddy’s steampunk/SF story, Feel Me, was a Finalist and honorable mention in the 2014 Rainbow Awards for SF.

Author Links

Email: freddy.m.mackay@gmail.com
Website: http://freddysstereograph.weebly.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/FreddyMacKay
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/FreddyMacKay

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It is with very great pleasure that I introduce the first of the authors who have contributed stories to the Foolish Encounters anthology, which will be available from Wilde City Press on April 1st.

Foolish Encounters began it’s life as a April Fools dare from Marc of Rainbow Gold Book reviews – what’s the silliest story idea you can think of? Naturally everyone pitched in with the daftest scenarios  and we all read each others ideas, cackled with laughter then forgot about it.

A month or so later we were contacted again with the challenge to write our story to be included in an anthology to be produced in time for April first this year. The brave souls at Wilde City Press had agreed to publish it

Months later and the release of the anthology is just a few days away.

As usual with these anthology interviews I will provide a prize for one lucky commenter – their name to be selected old school style with bits of paper drawn out of a hat – it could be a WW2 tin helmet, a pirate hat, or something fetching in straw, depending on the time of day, direction of wind and just how I feel. the more comments the more chances you have to win.

So please join me in welcoming guest number one – Angel Martinez

~

What inspired you to write your story for the anthology?
I suppose you could say this anthology is partly my fault, er, that is, partly because of my interference. Wait. This isn’t coming out right at all. Marc was hosting a series of events for Rainbow Gold with authors and their books. Mine just happened to fall around the time that my Brimstone series (science fiction humor) was out and Marc scheduled me for April 1st. Appropriate. What he did before the day, though, was to ask me to come up with as many outrageous story prompts as I could. There were some doozies. Other authors were encouraged to add prompts as well and later claim them.

Not normally regarded as cuddly

What prompt did I end up with? A cobra shifter who can only come when he sings, which was actually a combination of two prompts. This was not my idea. Marc insisted I had to write this one. Hmm, I said to myself. What the hell have I done? While I have written characters who change form, I’ve never written, and probably never will write, the pop culture shifter story that people would expect. Not that route. But what if this dual-natured person was an alien and what if he was stuck on Earth and what would he need to sing in order to climax? And how could I make his eventual love interest as annoying as possible… Sissal Naganos, alien diplomat in disgrace and sexually troubled cobra shifter, was born in “A Message from the Home Office.”

Could you tell me a little about it?
Sure! For a few years now, Sissal has been assigned as the OIL (Onsite Interspecies Liaison) to Earth, which is considered a backwater, no open contact with the natives world. It’s essentially a career dead end, but he’s willing to be patient. The assignment has to end some day. But his quiet, boring routine is shattered when a certain ship’s captain dumps a new assistant on his doorstep, an assistant who is so regulation bound, high-strung, and OCD that the calm and patient Sissal seriously contemplates violence.

Could you please tell me about your other work?
I write gay fantasy and science fiction, almost exclusively. Some of it like Brimstone and A Message from the Home Office are comedic pieces, while others like the Endangered Fae series and the ESTO novels are deadly serious. I tend toward science fiction plots with biological/neuroscience or anthropological frameworks, while my fantasy tends to explore (read: twist, tilt, mutilate and bend) folktale, myth and legend.

What are you working on at the moment?
Right now, I’m finishing the second in a pair of paranormal humor stories for a new world/series called Offbeat Crimes. This is about a police squad manned entirely by paranormal misfits –the vampire who can only drink “skim blood,” the firestarter who can’t get a spark when it’s damp, the officer who can teleport objects with his mind, but only if those objects are fruit, and so on. The first story, Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters, is complete and with the editors, the second, The Pill Bugs of Time, is about 2/3 complete.

Please could we have an excerpt?
This is a teensy excerpt from A Message from the Home Office:

“What was that?” Rcrred spoke up directly behind him. “The lighting in here is at least a hundred lumens above efficiency recommendations. I don’t understand why you’ve been left here without inspections. Move out of the chair so I can call the PLIC.”

“I am the Planetary Liaison in Charge. There is no one else.”

“No. No…you can’t. This is an outpost. There’s a central office in orbit?”

Sissal rested his aching head in both hands. “Do you even understand what a Class Five outpost is, kid?”

“Covert operations,” Rcrred offered stiffly. “Undetectable to the planetary population. With a need for liaisons to blend in, which, if you would have read my file, you would see I have already begun to do by taking the local name Richard.”

“Great. That’s just perfect.” Sissal managed a sour chuckle.

Rcrred…Richard glared at him. “Why?”

“Don’t suppose in all your pre-assignment work, you figured out that Dick is a common nickname for Richard? Dick the dik dik dick. It’s perfect. Really, bloody perfect.”

Author Bio:

While Angel Martinez is the erotic fiction pen name of a writer of several genres, she writes both kinds of gay romance – Science Fiction and Fantasy. Currently living part time in the hectic sprawl of northern Delaware, (and full time inside the author’s head) Angel has one husband, one son, two cats, a changing variety of other furred and scaled companions, a love of all things beautiful and a terrible addiction to the consumption of both knowledge and chocolate.

Website: Angel Martinez

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amartinez2

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/angelmartinez/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AngelMartinezrr

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comfy chairMy guest today is a young author who has been both scaring his readers spitless with his horror novels and wowwing them with the more tender and romantic aspects of the same works. I am a well known light-weight when it comes to horror so I have to read his books through my fingers but I still enjoy them immensely.

I’m also delighted to welcome him to my blog to celebrate, and promote, the impending release of his new Memoirs of Human Wraiths book, Still Waters.

Thanks, Frederick Feely for joining me here today. If you are sitting comfortably I will begin.

Can you tell me a little about yourself? For instance, do you have to have a day job as well as being a writer?

Well, I don’t have a traditional day job, no. I have sort of taken on the house duties while my husband is at work. Cooking cleaning etc. But when I am in writing mode that can last for months on end, so the other stuff gets done….but not exactly in an orderly fashion. Being married is hard work!

When you aren’t writing, is there any other creative activity you enjoy? Have you ever written about it? 

I love listening to music and hanging out with my friends when we managed to get time together. As far as writing about that time, not really. I mean, my friends personalities are fodder for writing- something they have probably guessed- but that’s as far as that goes.

In that crucial inspiration stage of a new story which comes first? Plot, situation or character?

The situation comes first. The ‘what if’ moment that suddenly brings about this line up of events in my head. And then I sit down and hopefully make it make sense.

Do your characters arrive fully fledged and ready to fly or do they develop as you work with them? Do you have a crisp mental picture of them or are they more a thought and a feeling than an image? 

It’s based solely on an emotion first and foremost and I write the person around the situation or the feeling.

Is there any genre you would love to write, ditto one you would avoid like a rattlesnake?

I love to write horror, I am not unopposed to writing in other genres if it ever came around to it. But horror is what I stick with.

Villains are incredibly important in fiction since they challenge the main protagonists and give them something to contend with beyond the tension of a developing relationship. The cruel sea. The serial killer. The society itself. Your hero’s inner demons. What sort of villains do you prize?

I like a villain I can sympathize with on a very basic level. I want you to understand their motivations. Why they do the things they do. For instance, in Stephen King’s Carrie, I cheered for her. All the way through and it really messed with your head to do so. It really trips your head when you have bad vs worse.

 What are you working on at the moment? Can you discuss it or do you prefer to keep it a secret until it’s finished. 

I am thinking about trying to extract the main character of The Phantom of the Opera, into a modern setting. Or at least, have a character like his – in the present day.

Could we please have an excerpt of something?

Certainly. Here is an excerpt of Still Waters.

She loathed Adam. Loathed what Adam meant to him, who they’d been, what they were. Bret felt the anger rise like bile in him, but he just shook his head as Kaiser nudged at his hand, feeling the tension in the room.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll turn up just fine,” she said. “Your father will be home in a few days. You may want to get a head start finding campus housing. I mean, the fall is coming quickly, and it’ll take your mind off your friend.”

“Fiancé,” Bret replied.

“Excuse me?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Fiancé, Mother. I am not leaving behind someone I love because—”

“Please, don’t try to dignify what the both of you do as love.”

“Oh, right. Because that’s what you and Dad have? Tell me, when Dad had his affair with—what was her name… Jessica?—was that love as well?” Bret fired back with a smile on his lips. His mother’s lips puckered, and he watched as her fury grew.

“You little son of a bitch, how dare you—” she said, growing furious, but Bret put up a hand.

“Tell the truth? Look, let’s just keep from jumping on the merry-go-round of knives, shall we? Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. Deal?” he asked.

“Fine. But I will be telling your father when he gets back,” she sniffed, putting her hands on her hips and then dropping them in outrage as Bret suddenly burst into laughter.

“Oh no,” he said, grabbing his heart. “Oh, please don’t tell Daddy. What will I do with his disapproval?”

“Oh, you don’t care much about his approval, I know. Your father cheated on me because he couldn’t handle having a gay son. It disgusted him,” she said venomously.

The statement would have hurt him if he hadn’t turned her off a long time ago. He still wanted to slap her. But instead, he decided he’d hit another way.

“Mother, your husband cheated on you because when we moved here, his wife became Queen Ice Bitch of Promise Lake. That, and Jessica was twenty-three. So don’t put your Stepford bullshit on me,” he fired back.

She took an angry step forward, and Kaiser let out a menacing growl that caused her to hesitate. However, the look of fury on her face was replaced with one of stone calm, something that scared Bret even more than their heated war of words.

She was beginning another “how dare you” statement, which had become common since her discovery of Bret’s sexuality, when Kaiser let out a series of very loud barks that caused them both to jump. The reflection of two lights across the kitchen wall caused Bret to turn as a car pulled into the driveway.

“Kaiser, come on,” he said, snapping his fingers.

The dog turned from the window and looked at Bret before wagging his tail and following him on his way to the stairs that led up to his room.

“Where are you going?” his mother demanded, and Bret turned and was about to respond when a car door slammed and a voice tore through the night—and right into his heart.

“Bret! Bret!” The voice sobbed and broke the second time.

The tortured sound hit him like a truck. His heart skipped, and the truth he was yet to discover, the hand fate had held, was shown for the first time. Bret’s mouth went dry as his throat constricted, and he swore if he were to try to step forward, he would fall flat, but with another shout of “Bret!” he ran forward. He knew the voice, and Kaiser was hot on his heels while his mother complained about the racket they were causing.

Bret hit the door, his heart lodged in his throat and his knees trembling. Kaiser rushed between his legs to the person standing in the light of the car. Bret’s view was obscured as the beams from the headlights stole his night vision, but Kaiser knew the newcomer and got out of their way as they came into focus.

It was Timmy, Adam’s older brother, and the look on his face screamed through Bret’s body like electricity as realization dawned horribly in his mind. The cards were being laid out on the table.

“No.” Bret sobbed, shook his head, and brought his hand up to his mouth. As if shaking his head would somehow slay the dragon, he reached out for Timmy as his knees finally gave out on him. Timmy fell too as he gathered Bret in his arms, as Adam’s mother and father shrouded both boys in grief.

Kaiser, unsure of what was happening, raised his head toward the sky and let out his own mournful wail as they wept, their tears soaking the parched concrete driveway with the truth.

Adam wouldn’t be coming home.

 

###

Still Waters

Blurb:

Promise, Michigan is very much like every other small town across the state. Built on the edge of a lake, the homes sit in neat little rows in cute little neighborhoods. During the summer Promise bustles with tourists who come to spend their vacation dollars and enjoy the lake’s refreshingly cold water. But Promise holds a terrible secret. In the center of the lake is an abandoned island where a curse is rumored to wait for victims, unabated and deadly. Most think it’s just a story, something used to keep kids out of trouble. Still, everyone gives it a wide berth. Everyone except Bret and Adam. They dare to venture out the night of Bret’s birthday. When they declared their love and promise to get married, they believe no one else heard their whispered words—but they are wrong.

Five years after Adam dies, Bret returns to his family to heal. But someone is killing the people of Promise in random acts of violence. Bret, with the help of FBI agent Jeff McAllister, must discover the identity of a murderer with death on his mind and revenge in his heart.

Available on 30th March from Dreamspinner Press.

Still Waters

Author Bio:

F.E. Feeley Jr was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan and lived there for twenty years before joining the military. He is a veteran of the US Armed Services; having done a tour in support of Operation Iraq Freedom in 2002-2003, he turned college student, pursuing a degree in political science. He now lives in Southeast Texas where he is engaged to the love of his life, John, and where they raise their 1½ year old German shepherd, Kaiser.

As a young man, reading took center stage in his life, especially those novels about ghosts, witches, goblins, and all the other things that went bump in the night. His favorite authors include such writers as Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Anne Rice, whose work allowed him to travel to far off places and meet fascinating and scary characters. As a gay man, he wishes to be able to write good fictional literature for those who love the genre and to write characters that readers can relate to. All in all, he is a cigarette smokin’, whiskey drinkin’, rock and roll lovin’, tattoo wearin’ dreamer of a man with a wonderful husband who puts up with his crap and lets him write his stories.

You can find out more  about F. E. Feely Jr by following his blog here: www.authorfefeeleyjr.wordpress.com

 

 

 

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TITLE: Frankie & Al

SERIES: Frankie’s – Book One

AUTHOR: Sue Brown

PUBLISHER: Dreamspinner Press

LENGTH: 158 Pages

COVER ARTIST: DWS Photography

RELEASE DATE: March 21, 2014

BLURB: A Novella in Frankie’s Series

Dumped by his boyfriend, Frankie Mason goes out with the girls, gets totally trashed, and ends his night by falling in front of a taxi. He’s rescued by a man with beautiful green eyes who takes care of him until he’s put into an ambulance. Frankie curses himself as he realizes he doesn’t have the man’s phone number. Still in pain a few days later, he is dragged out to a club only to be saved by Green Eyes once more. This time, he isn’t letting the man go.

Unfortunately Frankie has to attend a team-building exercise, nicknamed Womb Weekend, organized by his company. Al is working so he doesn’t mind, until he discovers who the team leader is. Al has a lot of explaining to do!

BUY LINK:

Dreamspinner Press – Amazon US – Amazon UK – ARe 

 

EXCERPT

 

ONE OF the joys of working in a large insurance company was that Frankie had a Monday-to-Friday job processing new insurance policies. He waved good-bye at five o’clock Friday evening and didn’t have to think about work or his colleagues until eight thirty Monday morning.

Until the day Frankie opened the e-mail from Human Resources. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Charlotte looked over from her desk. “What?”

“They’re sending me on a team-building exercise.” He didn’t appreciate Charlotte’s chuckle. “Winning Ways? What the fuck is that?”

“You’ve been caught. They get us all in the end. You get to spend the weekend in a swanky hotel, building egg wombs and sucking up to managers. Don’t sweat it. You’ll enjoy it.”

“Don’t bank on it,” he muttered. “Wait, egg what?”

“Egg wombs. You know.” At Frankie’s frown, she said, “You have to drop the egg out of a window without it cracking, using only a plastic bag and a cup.”

“Is that what they really call it?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? That’s what you’ve got to do. And the sucking up to the managers. They give you the ‘We’re all equal here. Call me Jeff’ speech but you know they’re just spying on everything you do.”

It was Frankie’s recurring nightmare—to be stuck in a small room with his colleagues and not be able to get away. He got that five days a week but at the weekend as well? “Karma’s a bitch.”

“What have you done?”

“Do you want the list?”

“You’ve been that bad?”

“Probably worse,” he admitted.

She smirked at him. “Frankie’s been a bad, bad boy, and now he is going to get his bottom spanked?”

“I wouldn’t mind if it was that sort of weekend.” Frankie grinned as Charlotte’s cheeks crimsoned. “Gotcha!”

“You’re wicked,” she said. “My mother warned me about boys like you.”

“My mother warned me about boys like me too. They sounded much more fun than the good, church-going boys she wanted me to meet.”

She gave him an odd look. “She knew you were gay back then?”

He rolled his eyes. “Girl, look at me. Could anyone not realize I’m gay?”

“You have a point.”

Frankie’s mum said it was obvious he was gay from the moment he came out of the womb. According to her description, Frankie flounced out to the song on the radio. Frankie thought that being born to Kylie must have been prophetic. It could have been worse—he might have been born to Meat Loaf.

“When are you going on the exercise?”

Frankie scanned the e-mail. “Next month. They’ve got a dropout and they want me to fill in.”

“Can you go?”

Frankie shrugged. “It’s not like my calendar is full or anything.” It would give him something to do. Since Chaz had thrown him out, his social life consisted of clubbing with Jonno or staring at the walls in his tiny flat, eating ready meals he could ill afford and wishing he had Sky TV instead of Freeview. “It might be fun.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Your life really is boring at the moment, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea.”

“Why don’t you come out with me and the girls? We’re going to try that new club in town.”

“Uh, gay, remember?”

“Uh, gay club, remember?”

He frowned. “There’s a new gay club in town? In this dump of a town?”

“God, Frankie, you really are out of it. It opened a couple of weeks ago. It’s near Primark, over the slappers’ shop.”

“I didn’t know. Anyway, why’re you going to a gay club?”

“Ignorance is no excuse, and I’m going to a gay club because most of my mates are dykes and the rest of us are married. It suits us fine not to be hit on by sleazebags. Anyway, the booze is cheaper and the music’s better.”

“How did you end up with lesbians for friends?”

Charlotte grinned at him. “Some of us aren’t narrow-minded little pricks like some people I could mention.”

“You mean….”

“Uh-huh.”

She did a dramatic head roll to their manager who sat not ten feet away, oblivious to their conversation. Ed Winters was a 1950s Tory poster boy. He disliked women, black people, anyone from the Indian subcontinent, curry, the French, the Irish, dogs, and particularly hom-o-sex-uals—he always enunciated the word as if a bad smell was under his nose.

Frankie grinned at her. Taking the piss out of Ed was one of the few joys in his life. “I’m on for the club. You say where and when.”

Maybe he needed a change from the scene with Jonno. Those clubs were hook-up sites, and much as he needed action, he needed fun. God, he really needed some fun.

“Done. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the straight girls don’t treat you like their pet poodle for the evening.”

He shrugged. “They can be my bitches.”

“They’ll love it. Do you want to bring the leashes?”

“I worry about you sometimes.”

Charlotte tossed her hair. “You love it.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Mr. Mason, Ms. Tiller, is something wrong?” Winters peered over his frameless glasses to stare at them.

They shook their heads and smirked at each other when he scowled and turned away.

Frankie looked at the files on his desk, and the e-mail telling him he had to play nice for a weekend. Charlotte was one bright sparkle in a sea of beige and gray. He pecked disconsolately at the keyboard. “Okay, I’ve confirmed my attendance at the egg womb thing. Now you take me out.”

Charlotte looked up from her phone. “Friday? The girls can’t wait to meet you.”

Frankie nodded. “I’m all yours.”

“Ah baby, if only that were true.” Charlotte blew him a kiss and turned her attention back to her own work.

Hmmm, a new club, potential new meat. Frankie needed something new to wear. He might be short of cash, but he could work that budget. Frankie rocked at the vintage look.

AUTHOR BIO

Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn’t following their orders, she can be found plotting at her laptop. In fact she hides so she can plot and has gotten expert at ignoring the orders.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she’s made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/SueBrownsStories

Twitter: https://twitter.com/suebrownstories

Google+: https://plus.google.com/+SueBrownstories/

Blog: http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.co.uk/

Website: http://www.suebrownstories.com/

Email ID: suebrown.stories@gmail.com

 

GIVEAWAY

Winner’s Prize: $20 Amazon Gift Card

2 Runners Up get: An e-copy set of – Frankie & Al (Book 1); Ed & Marchant (Book 2)

Click here to enter the Rafflecopter contest

Blog Tour 

March 2nd

Charlie Cochet

Because Two Men Are Better Than One

March 3rd

My Fiction Nook

Anne Barwell

March 4th

The Kimi Chan Experience

Prism Book Alliance

March 5th

Elin Gregory

Rick R. Reed

Literary Nymphs Hotlist

March 6th

Hearts on Fire Reviews

March 9th

L.M. Brown

Elisa: My Reviews and Ramblings

March 10th

Nephy’s World

MM Good Book Reviews

Don’t forget – the newest installment in the story of Frankie’s – Anthony & Leo – will be available soon.

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Title:
Passing Through

Author:
Jay Northcote

Genre:
contemporary m/m romance

Length:
43,000 words approx

Release date:
Friday 20th Feb 2015

Publisher:
Jay Northcote

Passing Through

Buy links:

Blurb:

 

Don’t waste a chance at happiness…

Leo is a lonely workaholic with no time for romance in his life. His job in London takes all his energy and commitment. When he goes to Cornwall to stay with his terminally ill uncle, Edwin, love is the last thing Leo expects to find.

Tris lives in a cottage on Edwin’s land. Gay, but still half in the closet, he and Leo bond over their affection for Edwin, and the pull of attraction between them proves too strong to ignore. In Tris’s arms, in the wilds of Cornwall, Leo finds a peace he’d forgotten existed.

On his return to London, Leo finds himself grieving for more than just the loss of his uncle. When some unexpected news gives Leo the chance to return to Cornwall, he’s afraid it will be too late to rekindle things with Tris. But having learned much from his stay with his uncle, Leo doesn’t want to look back and wish he’d done things differently.

It’s time to seize the day—if it’s not already too late.

~~~

I asked Jay a question: Have you ever had to seize the day? And did it work?

I’m a big believer in the whole ‘carpe diem’ philosophy. We only get to live once and I think it’s important to take the opportunities that life gives us, and grab them with both hands. In Passing Through, Leo has to make some big life changes if he wants to be able to be with the man he loves. But seizing the day isn’t always about romance and relationships.

In my own life there have been many turning points where I’ve had to make a scary leap out of my comfort zone in order to move forward. One of the biggest in recent years was writing my first book. I definitely had that ‘now or never’ feeling about it. I could spend the next ten years of my life thinking about drafting that novel, or I could just do it…. So, I signed up for Nanowrimo in 2012 and got the words written. It was hard, exhausting, scary, and then trying to find a publisher for it was another rollercoaster ride. But it worked out and I’ll never regret taking that first step into the unknown.

Excerpt:

On the beach they crunched along the shingle to the edge of the rocks, then turned to look out over the sea. It was almost completely dark now, and the moon was rising, casting streaks of bright silver on the oil-black water.

They stood in silence, watching and listening to the crash of the waves. Leo’s heart felt suddenly too large for his chest. He was overwhelmed by the beauty of the place, a place that had barely changed since his childhood. The sea came and went with the tides, the sands shifted, but the rocks were constant. Yet here Leo was, an adult now rather than a boy, and his uncle reduced to an echo of the man Leo remembered—physically, at least. Unexpected tears prickled the backs of Leo’s eyes as a rush of emotion so strong that it made him draw in a sharp breath assaulted him. He swallowed hard, forcing the feelings back down.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Tris turn towards him, but Leo carried on gazing out at the gentle, rolling movement of the sea. Tris shifted his feet in the sand, bringing him closer. The warm skin of his arm brushed Leo’s, and Leo ached for more contact. He needed human warmth and touch to chase away the cold emptiness in his heart.

Author Bio:

Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England, with her husband, two children, and two cats.

She comes from a family of writers, but she always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed her by. She spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content. One day, she decided to try and write a short story–just to see if she could–and found it rather addictive. She hasn’t stopped writing since.

You can keep up with Jay at the following links:

www.jaynorthcote.com

Twitter

Facebook profile

Facebook Author Page

Jay’s books

 

 

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Breeches, Cravats, and Greatcoats

First of all, I want to thank Elin for having me on her blog. It’s so great to be here! I want to talk to you all about the sexy attire that the men wore during the Regency period that I used in my book Groom Of Convenience book one of The Scandalous Whispers of the Remmington Realm from Dreamspinner Press.

When I first started to do the research for GoC, I had to first distinguish between a few things. I essentially had four different genders:

Male Men
Male Women
Female Men
Female Women

So I had to figure out the differences in attire when it came to what they would all wear. Would the Male Women all be walking around in dresses? Would the female men be walking around in breeches, waistcoats and greatcoats?

How the hell would that work?

Well I realized that it was all a matter of gender versus sexuality.

“Sex refers to a person’s biological status and is typically categorized as male, female, or intersex (i.e., atypical combinations of features that usually distinguish male from female). There are a number of indicators of biological sex, including sex chromosomes, gonads, internal reproductive organs, and external genitalia.

Gender refers to the attitudes, feelings, and behaviors that a given culture associates with a person’s biological sex. Behavior that is compatible with cultural expectations is referred to as gender-normative; behaviors that are viewed as incompatible with these expectations constitute gender non-conformity.
Gender identity refers to “one’s sense of oneself as male, female, or transgender” (American Psychological Association, 2006). When one’s gender identity and biological sex are not congruent, the individual may identify as transsexual or as another transgender category (cf. Gainor, 2000).

Gender expression refers to the “…way in which a person acts to communicate gender within a given culture; for example, in terms of clothing, communication patterns and interests. A person’s gender expression may or may not be consistent with socially prescribed gender roles, and may or may not reflect his or her gender identity” (American Psychological Association, 2008, p. 28).”

So using this definition from the American Psychological Association I used it to determine how each individual character would dress, act, and be referred to. So some male women would dress in the male attire, and be called by their male titles, and some would dress in the female dress and be referred to by their female titles.

Confused yet? LOL.

But the really fun part came in with dressing each character.

Heathcliff is a very masculine, alpha, male man.

He struts around Angland wearing a cravat, button down dress shirt, waistcoat, tight breeches or trousers, a pair of Hessian boots, carrying a cane in honor of his friend Orley Garrick who has to use one, wearing a greatcoat when the weather calls for it. His black hair is always pulled back in a queue at the nape of his neck, even though it puts the scar on his face in broad display and scares the delicate ladies, but Heathcliff Eddington, III, the Duke of Pompinshire, cares not one whit for the delicate constitution of these simpering misses, he wants a lady made of tougher stock than that.

There were skirted coats or waistcoats with tails on them as we know them. They had high collars. Breeches and trousers were also worn by gentlemen, pantaloons were usually worn by dandies to show off their… wares.
“Shirts and drawers were considered “undergarments” and the drawers were cut like breeches and made of linen or cotton. They fasten with a combination of drawstrings and buttons. Shirts were linen or cotton and blousy, with buttons at the neck and wrists. The collars are high and worn turned up to cover the neck, and often the jaw-line as well.

Coats were single or double-breasted, although double-breasted coats predominate by about four or five to one. They descend in front only to the natural waistline (i.e., about to the navel). They are uniformly cut so that the tails descend directly from the back panels; that is, there is no waist seam at the back, unlike modern tailcoats. Collars and lapels can be of moderate width or very wide. Especially early in the Regency, they are often arranged to stand up around the face and neck, but tend to lie flatter as time goes on. Sleeves are long, and the cuffs cover the base of the hand nearly as far as the thumb-joint. Earlier coats have scooped waistlines, in which the tails curve downward from a horizontal or slightly curved front edge.
Waistcoats are sleeveless but have collars and, usually, lapels. Early-Regency examples are likely to have standing collars, but later the collars are turned down. The body descends just below the natural waist, so that it projects an inch or two below the front of the coat; and, like the coat, it has a straight waistline (unlike the points on most modern vests). It should cover the waistband of the trousers or breeches. There may be lacing or an attached belt at the center back to ensure a close fit. Waistcoats may be single or double-breasted; the numbers of each style seem to be about equal. Any combination of single or double-breasted coat and waistcoat may be worn. Since double-breasted coats greatly outnumber single-breasted ones, the combination of either a single-breasted or double-breasted waistcoat with a double-breasted coat is most common, but both single and double-breasted waistcoats can also be worn with single-breasted coats. Earlier waistcoats are often striped, vertically or horizontally, or patterned, but grow plainer with time. Fabrics can be silks, wools, or linens. The buttons can match the fabric, particularly if it is fancy, or be of smooth metal.

Breeches are prescribed for evening wear. They are close-fitting, with much less fullness in the seat than earlier eighteenth-century examples (although, especially early, the crotch can be just as tight), and with higher waistlines, which should come to the natural waist or just above it. The waistband and top of the fall should be hidden by the waistcoat. The back of the waistband may have laces for a precise fit. The legs descend to just below the knees and are buttoned. There may be supplemental ribbon ties or straps with knee-buckles. The front is closed with a flap called a fall, rather than a fly as in modern trousers, which is not fashionable at this time. Falls are commonly narrow (as opposed to the broad-fall fronts of the late eighteenth century), with the fall covering about half the breeches’ front width. The fall may be set quite high, so that only the bottom corners of the opening appear below the waistcoat. Falls get narrower over time. Trousers initially resemble breeches, being tight through the thighs and knees, and continuing into close-fitting lower legs, almost as if the idea were to make breeches with attached stockings. Stirrup-straps are common on narrow trousers meant to be worn inside boots. Later in the Regency, trousers get wider, and can be quite full by the end of the period. Trousers worn with shoes commonly fall only to the ankles, rather than resting on the shoe-tops as modern examples do. Cuffs are not worn.

The cravat, a long strip of white linen, frequently starched, is the almost universal neckwear for Regency gentlemen. It is wound around the neck over the shirt collar (which should project above it) and tied in front. The cravat typically covers the entire neck up to the jaw-line. Beau Brummel is supposed to have ruined, on average, more than half a dozen neck-cloths a day before managing to arrange one to his satisfaction, but he was a famously fastidious dresser.”

The above is some of the research that I used from the website The Commonwealth Vintage Dancers while writing Groom Of Convenience along with a number of different sites. I think the pictures that I’ve sent will also give you a great sense of what the men looked like. While Lucien dressed just like Heathcliff much of the time, the only time he didn’t was when they got married and tradition dictated he wear a gown and what a gown it was, he was gorgeous and completely took Heathcliff’s breath away, though Heath couldn’t wait to take to rip it off of Lucien’s body as soon as they were alone, for more than one reason.
What did it look like?

Well, I guess you’ll just have to buy Groom Of Convenience to find out.

Thanks for having me, Elin! It was great to be here.

-Vicktor Alexander

~~~

Thanks for visiting Vicktor and thanks for the terrific blog post. Readers, you can click the link for a chance to win a Rafflecopter Prize: $10 Gift Card

In an alternate universe, in the country of Angland, 1814, the gentry live lives of culture and class. It is a time of courtships, marriages of convenience, and titles, where scandal can ruin an entire family. Gender lines are blurred, and making a good match is of utmost importance. Children are born to men and women, which has led to the acceptance of same-sex marriages.

Lady Lucien Timothy Hawthorne is shocked and angry when he is betrothed against his will to Lord Heathcliff Eddington, III, the Duke of Pompinshire. While drowning his frustration at a popular gentleman’s club, he meets “Robert,” a gorgeous older man whom he sleeps with as “Timmy,” regardless of the potential damage to his reputation.

After their liaison, Lucien corresponds with Robert via letters left at Remmington, and they decide to elope. Before they can get away, Lucien meets his betrothed, Heathcliff, who he is surprised to discover is also his beloved, Robert. Both men desire a marriage of the heart, but they find out that sometimes a marriage of convenience can turn into love under the right circumstances. But Lucien has a secret, and Tlondon isn’t as safe as they once thought.

Categories: Alternative Universe, Gay Fiction, Historical, M/M Romance, Romance, *Trans
Words: 108,811
Pages: 300

Buy Links:
Dreamspinner
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Excerpt:

Lucien inhaled deeply and then began to softly sing “Ae Fond Kiss,” a popular Tscottish ballad written twenty years prior, sliding his eyelids closed, afraid of any negative reaction from his betrothed. His mother used to sing it to him every night before leaving for a ball or party she was obligated to attend. Rosemary would sing the song and then kiss the top of his head. Annabelle would be waiting at the door, and when Rosemary finished, thinking that Lucien was asleep, she would meet Annabelle at the door, and the two of them would share a sweet kiss and then leave. Lucien loved those late-night lullabies by his mother, cherished them, and when he went to bed, even at his advanced age, he would sing the song to himself until he would fall asleep.
Finishing the last note of the song, Lucien opened his eyes and looked at Heathcliff, expecting to find him asleep, only to find him looking at him in wonder. “What?” he asked. “You have a beautiful voice, Lucien,” Heathcliff told him. Lucien blushed and ducked his head. “Thank you,” he whispered. Heathcliff’s fingers under his chin brought his face back up, and he found himself looking into Heathcliff’s eyes. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. Never hide from me,” Heathcliff told him. “You have a beautiful voice. One that has obviously been handcrafted by the very touch of God. The beauty of your voice is rivaled only by the beauty of your face, which does not compare to the beauty of your spirit.”

Author Bio:
Vicktor “Vic” Alexander wrote his first story at the age of ten and hasn’t stopped writing since. He loves reading about anything and everything and is a proud member of the little known U.N. group (Undercover Nerds) because while he lives, eats, breathes, and sleeps sports, he also breathes history and science fiction and grew up a Trekkie. But don’t ask him about Dungeons & Dragons, because he has no idea how to play that game. When it comes to writing he loves everything from paranormal to contemporary to fantasy to historical and is known not only for being the Epilogue King but also for writing stories that cross lines and boundaries that he doesn’t know are there. Vic is a proud father of two daughters one of whom watches over him from Heaven with his deceased partner Christopher. Vic is a proud trans* and gay man, and when he is not writing, he is hanging out with his friends, or being distracted by videos of John Barrowman, Scott Hoying, and Shemar Moore. Vicktor has published numerous bestselling novels and has a WIP list that makes him exhausted just thinking about. He knows that he will be still be writing about hot men falling in love with each other, long after he is living in an assisted living facility, flirting with the hot, male nurses.

Author Contact:
http://www.facebook.com/VicktorAlexanderB
http://www.facebook.com/AuthorVicktorAlexander

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Guest Post – Hans Hirschi

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Enjoy Happy Geek Media’s debut virtual tour of The Fallen Angels of Karnataka

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The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-2The Fallen Angels of Karnataka by:

Hans M. Hirschi

Published by:

Yaree AB

Genres: Romance, Contemporary, LGBT, Social Awareness, Literary, Travel

264 pages

Release Date: September 15, 2014

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In an isolated mountain town in Norway, Haakon dreams of traveling the world, pursuing adventure, seeing great cities, finding love. His very first trip to London with friends from university offers much promise, yet soon after tragedy strikes. Still young, and mourning the loss of his lover, Haakon is not ready to give up on his dream, so when a rich Englishman offers him the chance to join him on a tour of the world, Haakon takes it, daring to believe that his dream is finally coming true…but at what price?

The Fallen Angels of Karnataka is a novel filled with adventure, life’s hard-learned lessons, loss, despicable evil, and finally, love and redemption. See what others are saying about The Fallen Angels of Karnataka on the author’s media page here.

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AMAZON/NOOK/ADLIBRIS/ELIB/BOKUS/YAREE

The Fallen Angels of Karnataka is discounted to $5.99 right now, so grab a copy. The novel will not disappoint!

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Author Hans M. Hirschi

Hans M Hirschi (b. 1967) has been writing stories ever since he was a child. Adulthood and the demands of corporate life efficiently put an end to his fictional writing for over twenty years.

A global executive in training and channel development, Hans has traveled the world and had previously published non-fictional titles.

The birth of his son and the subsequent parental leave provided him with the opportunity to unleash his creative writing once again. With little influence over his brain’s creative workings, he indulges it, going with the flow.

A deeply rooted passion for, faith in a better world, in love, tolerance and diversity are a red thread throughout both his creative and non-fictional work. His novels might best be described as “literary romance, engaging characters and relevant stories that won’t leave you untouched, but hopeful.”

Hans is a proud member of the Swedish Writers’ Union, the Writers’ Center in Sweden and serves as chair of the Swedish Federation of Self- & Independent Publishers.

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Good luck and happy reading and winning!

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