And I'm not talking about that time I had a little too much to drink and took off my clothes and danced naked in--- no I wasn't talking about that. What I meant to talk about was the sudden upsurge in not very pleasant exchanges between author and readers on Goodreads, between an author and readers in the Huffington Post, between author and reviewer on Amazon. I know we can't all be nice to everyone but I do wish people would think before they put pen to paper. Unless you're a pantster and writing a book. Then you're allowed to just sit and write.
When my kids get all bent out of shape about something and want to right a perceived wrong, I always say - what end result do you want? Will it make everything right again? Because if it won't, then think twice about saying or doing anything. Cowardly behaviour is not right but better to walk away from confrontation that step it up into something you never wanted it to be.
The world's a big place. We should be able to share nicely!
Apart from that bitch who keeps telling her friends to vote--oops sorry - did it again!
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
My erotic romance Summer Girl, Winter Boy is out today with Ellora's Cave. Yippee
Jai Winter is trying to do the right thing, even though he knows it’s wrong. Forced to participate in kinky sex games, the renowned model spends his spare moments creating an impressive list of suicide options. Until a snowy day provides a bit of Summer…a pink-haired burst of sunshine with a ready smile. What begins as the hottest sex of his life turns into a ray of hope.
Summer Dey has baggage of her own—literally. Having spent eighteen months in South America trying to escape a shocking accident, Summer finds an illegal nightmare hidden in her suitcase. She doesn’t want to put Jai in danger, but his gorgeous face and killer bod prove hard to resist.
Boy meets girl, girl falls for boy, and everything would be perfect if it wasn’t for blackmail, drug dealers and tragic events in both their pasts. Staying together could be their salvation—or their ultimate undoing.
An Extract From Summer Girl, Winter Boy
(The pair have just met and are stranded at a snowbound airport)
An hour later, Jai was drowning in a perfect way. Summer was smart and funny. Too smart and funny for him. Even so, at a different time, and in a different place, he’d have persuaded her back to his bed, and the telephone number he’d give her would have been the right one, and he’d have called her when he said he would because she might be The One.
His dick went rigid with shock. Or something else.
But there was no different time, no different place. He was who he was and he had no future until Marta and Saul were either bored with him or were dead. Or he was dead. Buried under a ton of ice in an ice age. Not a likely scenario and not going on his list. Oh hell, why not if it might happen next year? His cock deflated.
“You’ve gone all moody,” Summer said. “What’s wrong?”
He’d thought he’d hidden that. Shit. “Just thinking about how hard that floor is going to be.”
“I’ve slept in worse places. At least it’s clean. No llama poop or guinea pig bones.”
He’d slept in worse places too though the beds had been comfortable and the sheets high-quality Egyptian cotton, but the people with him—fucking bastards. It wasn’t where you slept but who slept with you.
They left the bar when shutters rattled.
“Guess we should try to get some sleep,” he said as they moved into the concourse, though sleep was the last thing on his racing mind. “Welcome to the latest in innovative hotels. We have a wide selection of extremely spacious open-plan accommodations available tonight. Bedrooms with and without views. I’m afraid the beds are a little firm and only a few have en suite facilities. On the plus side, they’re economical.”
Summer shivered. “Think there’s anywhere warm?”
He looked at her long, tanned bare legs, her skimpy dress, the metal at her nipples, then at the snow plastering itself against the windows.
“I know,” she said. “I’m not dressed for winter, but I left eighty-degree heat and assumed I’d get straight off one plane and onto another. I intended to change into my jeans when I arrived in London. I’ve a coat in my…suitcase, which is probably languishing under three feet of snow because the guys who are supposed to unload went home while they still could.”
“Want a sweater?” He took one from his carry-on and handed it to her.
“Thank you so much.” She pulled it on.
The dark-blue sweater swamped her but she looked so cute, his cock flickered back to life. Give it up. There’s no point. She shouldn’t have looked sexy in a guy’s sweater, though he’d prefer her in nothing but those piercings. He wanted to suck them, rub the head of his dick over them. Blood flowed south. Damn it. Stop thinking.
They wandered through the airport, looking for somewhere to settle. All the more comfortable-looking spots were already taken.
“Nowhere is warmer than anywhere else,” Summer said. “Here will be fine.”
She dropped onto the floor next to the wall and lay on her back with her head resting on her bag. Oh god, her legs go on forever.
“You are approaching the end of the walkway,” intoned a voice.
Summer sat up and groaned. “Not here. That’ll go on all night.”
They headed away into the gate area.
“I’ll just use the restroom,” she said.
“Good idea. I’ll join you. Well, not join you.” Though the idea appealed.
He took out his last two temazepam and then stuffed them back in the bag. Maybe he didn’t need them. After he’d splashed water into his mouth and on his face, he accidentally looked up into the mirror. He hated what he saw—dark shadows under his eyes, a wary look on his face, a tense jaw, yet under all that, a guy women seemed to find irresistible. All those years he’d thought he was something special and now he longed to be nothing special at all.
When he emerged, Summer was already lying on the floor with her head on her backpack. He unzipped his carry-on to take out a pair of chinos and folded them to put under his head. His stomach fluttered as he settled next to her, his face inches from hers.
“Are you sleeping on the side of the bed you prefer?” he asked. Does anyone usually share your bed? Are you married, engaged, have a boyfriend?
“I’m fine unless your side of the bed is more comfortable, in which case I hope you’d be a gentleman and swap.”
“Sadly not.” I’m no gentleman. You could lay on me except we’d get arrested.
She was so close he could almost count her eyelashes. Her eyes were the strong blue of the sky on a cold winter’s day, the irises ringed with a darker hue. She had a couple of freckles on her tanned cheeks and he wanted to kiss them, kiss her lips, kiss her cute nose, kiss her nipples, kiss her all over. His cock twitched.
“Are you going to close your eyes?” he asked.
“Eventually. Are you?”
“Eventually. I like the view too much at the moment.”
“Very smooth, Mr. Winter.”
“Thank you, Miss Summer. Are your nipples pierced?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.
No, you can’t come out and take a look, he yelled at his cock. There’s nothing to see at the moment. The stupid thing still tried, pressing against his zipper.
“Why did you have it done?”
“Why do you think I had it done?”
Oh Christ, don’t splutter, don’t tell her what you think, what nearly every guy would think. “Somewhere to hang your car keys?”
She grinned. “Damn, I never thought you’d get that.”
“Anything else pierced?” Cut out my tongue now.
Ask her what, said his cock.
“Tattoos?” he choked out.
A low growl burst from his lips and she giggled.
“What an interesting young lady you are.”
He moved a fraction closer and could feel her breath hitting his face.
Do it, do it, do it, yelled his cock.
Do what? he yelled back. If I kiss her, where’s it going to go? We’re lying in a public place and you know what you’re like. This won’t stop at kissing. You’ll embarrass me.
Had she moved closer? Yes. Oh god.
“Hi there, folks.”
The voice jolted them both and they clashed heads as they jerked upright.
“Ouch,” Summer yelped and rubbed her forehead.
“Sorry,” he blurted.
“No, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
He rubbed his head. “Yep.”
He’d hoped their first touch would be less painful.
Two female airport employees stood in front of them.
The thought police? He hadn’t done anything—yet.
“Sorry to disturb you,” one of the women said. “We’re giving out blankets, pillows and a few essentials to help you spend an easier night.”
They were each handed a bag.
“Thank you,” Summer said. “That’s brilliant. Is there an inflatable bed in here?”
“Sadly not. You two have a good night.” The women wandered off again.
Apart from pillows and emergency blankets, the bags also contained bottles of water and snacks.
“No condoms either,” Summer said and clapped a hand to her mouth. “Shit.”
He laughed. Don’t worry. I’ve plenty.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Author A.E. Via
Title: You Can See Me
M/M/M GAY EROTIC CONTEMPORARY
WORD COUNT - 78,200
Release Date: February 07, 2014
World renowned chef Prescott Vaughan was at the height of his career. Right before he's to leave for Paris to work alongside his idol, a horrific car accident leaves him completely blind.
His female fiancé leaves him in a state of desperation and depression. He pines for love, companionship, and so happens to find it in the form of his very sexy neighbor. Sexy male neighbor, Dr. Rickson 'Ric' Edwards.
Prescott's not gay - at least he never considered himself gay - until Ric saves him from a date, gone terribly wrong. The two neighbors hit it off quickly and waste no time exploring and learning each other. Things are great until Ric begins to have his doubts about meeting Prescott's many wants.
When Ric insist he and Prescott take a breather, Pres finds himself lonely and lacking again. Enter, male escort and aspiring chef, Blair McKenzie to fill the void.
In the meantime, Ric works on his issues that prohibits him from displaying the love he knows he has for Prescott. When Ric is finally ready and returns to claim Prescott he's not sure that Pres can let go of the sexy, southern, hotness that is Blair McKenzie. After Ric has his own personal encounter with the sinfully sexy man, he can't help but become entranced and crave more as well.
Pres soon realizes that there's no need to choose between his two men, because when all three of them finally come together - grab a cold drink - the heat is going to go all the way up!
This is not your typical gay ménage romance. Everyone is not happy, skipping along, and loving life. These men are at each other’s throats. They live completely separate lives; fuss, cuss, and fight until they all realize exactly what the problem is...too damn much sexual tension.
A.E. Via is the new best-selling author in the beautiful gay erotic genre. Her writing embodies everything from spicy to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she’s not clicking away at her laptop, A.E. runs a very successful paralegal-for-hire business and in her spare time, she devotes herself to her family – a husband and four children – her two pets, a Maltese dog and her white Siamese cat, ELynn, named after the late great gay romance author ELynn Harris.
While this is only her second novel, she has plenty more to come...so sit back and grab a cool drink, because the male on male action is just heating up!
Go to A.E. Via’s official website http://authoraevia.com for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peak on up-coming work, free reads, and where she’ll appear next.
Author’s Official Website: http://authoraevia.com
Amazon link :http://www.amazon.com/You-Can-See-Me-Via-ebook/dp/B00IBQN8KE/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1391996415&sr=1-2
Amazon link :http://www.amazon.com/You-Can-See-Me-Via-ebook/dp/B00IBQN8KE/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1391996415&sr=1-2
Ric leaned his head back against the elevator paneling and watched the numbers light up all the way to floor ten before his eyes drifted shut for the rest of the way. When the doors opened, he came face-to-face with Prescott’s Texan.
Instead of the gorgeous prick getting on the elevator and leaving, the cocky bastard took a couple steps back and leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway and stared openly at him as if he hadn’t a care in the world. His hazel eyes scanned Ric up and down, taking in his disheveled, stressed-out appearance.
“Do you have a fucking problem?” Ric growled, refusing to pretend to be cordial to the man even though he was a complete stranger and had done absolutely nothing to him.
The man had the nerve to smirk at him and shake his head as if pitying Ric, or perhaps throwing it in Ric’s face that he’d definitely had a better night than he had. Ric did try to hide his anger at knowing the man had slept with his Pres. Why the hell else would he be leaving at five in the damn morning? Unless he delivered newspapers or milk, he had absolutely no reason to be on this floor this time of morning. Bastard.
“No, I don’t have a problem,” he drawled slowly, making sure to put extra enunciation on the “I” part of his sentence. “But, obviously, you do. Or else you wouldn’t be scowling at me for no reason.”
“Fuck you,” Ric snarled, stepping just a little closer. He wanted to tear the man’s lips off for talking with that accent. Then he wanted to rip his hands off for daring to touch his Prescott. The man’s probably a male gold digger.
“Did you enjoy taking advantage of Prescott? Did you get what you came for?” Ric growled like a rabid animal three inches away from the man’s face, but he’d be damned if the asshole didn’t even flinch at his showcase of fury. No reaction whatsoever.
The Texan had one hand casually tucked in his jeans pocket, kicking back one side of his stylish blazer, while he lazily rubbed his other hand over his taut chest and washboard abs that showed through the thin material of his untucked dress shirt. Ric hated to admit it, but the man looked well fucked, and he wore it well.
“How could you do that to someone like him?” Ric fumed, and it took everything in him to control his rage.
If I hit him, no one would know. There’s no one around, no witnesses. It’d be his word against mine.
“I knew I’d peg you in less than five minutes.” The man spoke with one dark brown eyebrow cocked up. He ran his fingers through his bed-tousled dark brown hair and let out an exasperated breath.
“Excuse me?” Ric blinked.
“Now I know why you were too stupid to hold on to Prescott Vaughan. You were too busy feeling sorry for him. Instead of you seeing a brilliant man, a world-renowned, accomplished chef who happens to be one of the most talented men to ever set foot in a kitchen, you see a needy, helpless man. Ahhh. Now it makes perfect sense.”
“Don’t try to act like you know me because you don’t,” Ric growled, still trying to be mindful they were in the hallway of the floor that he lived on.
The Texan pushed off the wall and closed the few inches between them. His six feet, two inches of height had him eye to eye with Ric, and the man showed no fear. His handsome face was now a mask of furious anger.
“I saw you treat him like shit on the bottom of your shoes last night. I watched him beg you for five fuckin’ minutes of your time, and you spat in his face. Now, you have the audacity to say I’m mistreating him? Fuck you,” he snarled right back at Ric.
Just as fast as the man’s anger came, it disappeared, and he composed himself to reveal that smirk that Ric selfishly rejoiced Pres couldn’t see, because it was sexy as fuck…and the man knew it.
Ric watched his competition push the elevator button as he rubbed his hand over his morning stubble before speaking again. “You know what they say, don’t you, Doc? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and Prescott Vaughan is definitely a rare, precious treasure.”
The Texan inched in even closer, which surprised the hell out of Ric since they were practically nose to nose. Ric was smacked in the face with a faint soap-and-water fragrance that made his eyelids flutter and his own dick jerk to life. Ric’s half-lidded eyes were riveted to the Texan’s plush lips as he leaned in and whispered directly into Ric’s open mouth.
“If you don’t pull your head out of your ass and claim Prescott Vaughan like he wants, I won’t stop until I’ve fucked the sexy strawberry ten ways to Sunday and there’s not a single trace of your existence left in his mind, because with or without you, he needs love, and I was the one there last night to lick his sweet tears when you walked away.”
The elevator doors opened at his final words, and the smooth Texan took a few graceful steps backward into the elevator and gave Ric a sexy wink right before the doors closed.
Fucking asshole, Ric thought.