Kim Fielding's Blog, page 46

Miscellany post

So, last week we got rain. Where I live, 3.2 inches in 2 days. Which is a lot, considering that our annual rainfall is 12″ and last year we had half that. California’s not out of the drought by a long shot, but it’s nice to see some moisture for a change. And snow in the mountains. Maybe the kids can go skiing this year.

The soil where I live is sand over hardpan, and it floods immediately even with light rain. So they build catchment basins, which serve as soccer fields or parks when it’s dry. During my walk the other day, I saw egrets, gulls, and canoers enjoying one of the basins near my house.

Last weekend was also the winter formal dance at my older daughter’s high school. She and her boyfriend dressed up.

They are adorable together, aren’t they? And–ARGH!–she is the same age I was when I met my husband.

Today’s the last day of finals for me, so once I get the exams graded I’m more or less free for a few weeks. Which is good, because we’re doing edits on my novella Grown-Up, which releases in March or April. I’m also getting ready to submit novel #12, a sort of fantasy/sci-fi thing called Astounding! The Speechless and Bones guys all make brief appearances. And I’m partway through my first draft of a contemporary with the working title of Rattlesnake. And my family’s heading for southern California for vacation shortly. When I get back, I want to start up a quarterly newsletter. So I should have plenty to keep me busy for a while!

Can I make one last plea? I’m about to make a pretty large end-of-the-year donation to Doctors Without Borders. With your help, that donation could be even larger, because I give them all my royalties from my self-published books: The Festivus Miracle, Joys R Us, Stasis, Flux, and Equipoise. So if you haven’t already bought these, please consider doing so now. Buy links are all on this page.

So… what are you guys up to?

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Travis’s Birthday

This little ficlet is a follow-up to Speechless and The Gig.

***

“Where are we going?” Travis demanded as the black T-Bird bounced down the gravel road.

Judging by the smirk on his face, Drew wouldn’t have told him even if he could speak. Which he couldn’t, because he had aphasia, but that didn’t stop him from looking insufferably smug. Travis wanted to kiss the self-satisfied look right off his face, but that probably wasn’t wise in a moving vehicle.

And then the vehicle wasn’t moving anymore because Drew parked in front of a big white farmhouse. All the windows glowed welcomingly, and a small fleet of cars was arrayed along the road. As he climbed out of the passenger seat, Travis recognized the yellow Mini with the black bonnet stripes. “Hey! That’s Ery’s car. What’s going on, Drew?”

Drew gave him a crooked smile—devilishly handsome—and grabbed his guitar case from the backseat before taking Travis’s hand and leading him around the house. Travis heard the soft hum of voices, but when they rounded the corner he came to a shocked halt. The grassy area between the house and barn was illuminated by torches and strings of lights. Several large tables sported colorful cloths; one was piled high with brightly wrapped packages. Folding chairs were scattered everywhere.

There were a whole lot of people… and Travis was surprised to find that he knew every one of them. His bosses, the futon queens of Portland. Most of the people from work. His friends Dylan and Chris, who’d found him his dream job. Cute Ery Phillips—with his boyfriend, the beautiful if slightly odd Karl, who played guitar with Drew at P-Town coffee house once a week. Hell, the owner of P-Town was there too, along with Travis’s favorite baristas, each holding a glass of wine. And was that his BFF Sara, deep in conversation with Drew’s mother? They both lived in California and Travis hadn’t had a clue they were in town.

Because Travis and Drew stood in the darkness, nobody had seen them yet. That gave Travis plenty of time to gape, which was good. Finally, he turned to Drew and whispered, “What the hell?”

Drew gestured at a paper banner strung on the side of the barn, undoubtedly painted by Ery. It was a little hard to read because he’d embellished the words with images of bright balloons, bursting fireworks, and gigantic cakes. And, for reasons known only to Ery, multi-colored penises and grinning mermen.

Travis squinted his single eye.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TRAVIS!!

More gaping ensued, followed by a more fervent repeat of his question. “What the hell, Drew?”

Drew let go of Travis’s hand, gently set down the guitar, and grasped Travis’s shoulders. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Even in the dim light, love shone brightly from his blue eyes. Maybe he knew that Travis hadn’t had a birthday party since he was seven, and that it had been a pathetic little affair during which Travis’s parents got shitfaced and screamed at each other in front of his classmates who didn’t want to be there to begin with. Or maybe he didn’t know that. Right now that didn’t matter, because Drew was pressing his warm lips to Travis’s. It was a gentle kiss, but it made Travis’s heart race, his toes curl, his jeans feel way too tight.

With another of his smirks, Drew pulled slightly away. He waved his arm toward the milling people, his meaning crystal clear. I did this for you because I love you. These people are all here for you because they’re your friends.

And how fucking amazing was that?

Once upon a time, Travis was alone and lonely. Sara lived far away and his only other friend was his cat, Elwood—who was in it mostly for the kibble. He had a shitty job and no good prospects for the future. And now here he was, with a yard full of people who cared about him. And an amazing man who loved him.

Travis leaned in and kissed Drew back, hard and greedy. He was satisfied when his normally silent lover let out a deep groan.

With a smirk of his own, Travis moved back a little, picked up the guitar, and gave Drew’s ass a friendly swat. “Looks like it’s time for a party,” he said.

And he stepped out into the light to greet his friends.

 

 

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What’s Kim Reading Now: Prisoner 374215 by Angel Martinez

I reread this today for the 3rd or 4th time while I was giving my students an exam. It was the perfect length for it, not to mention suitably bleak and angsty (but with an HEA).

I make no secret over loving a good hurt/comfort story, and this one delivers. The MC is a prisoner, broken in spirit, mind, and body. Through the small details, Martinez does an excellent job of depicting the pain and bleakness of his life. But then a tiny bit of hope shines in, in the form of one of his guards. Small crumbs of kindness go a long way and the relationship between them develops realistically.

Also, it’s sci-fi, and there’s not enough of that in m/m romance. Oh, and it’s free: http://www.mmromancegroup.com/prisoner-374215-by-angel-martinez/

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Blast from the Past: Island House by Bru Baker

Thanks for hosting this Blast from the Past, Kim! Island House isn’t too far in the distant past—just a year—but that was six books and two anthologies ago for me, so it definitely counts. It was also my first novel, so it holds a pretty special place in my heart.

Blurb: Unable to move on after the death of his lover, British expat Niall Ahern clings to Nolan’s dream of living in the Caribbean by moving to Tortola. Once there, he finds that not even the beauty of the island can fill the hole in his heart. Broke and spent in nearly every way imaginable, Niall wants out of the lonely, miserable, guilt-ridden life he’s carved out for himself. When Ethan Bettencourt, a wealthy tech guru, shows up in British Virgin Islands looking to purchase a second home, he gives Niall hope that he can move on. Both men fall hard and fast, but Niall finds piloting his yacht in the midst of a hurricane is nothing compared to weathering life’s simple misunderstandings. As their troubles come between them, Niall is left to wonder if he and Ethan are over before they’ve begun.

Ethan ends up being exactly what Niall needs, but it takes quite a bit for him to realize that. Along the way, Niall comes to terms with his grief over the loss of his partner and finally gives himself permission to move on.

Niall’s journey in Island House sets the theme for the Dropping Anchor series. Each book follows a different person in Niall’s small group of friends as he grows and matures. For Niall, it’s forgiving himself and learning to love again. For Ian in Finding Home, it’s finally settling down and becoming a responsible adult. And for Frank in Playing House, which comes out Dec. 22, it’s a late diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder and how that affects his relationship with his husband—and their prospects of starting a family.

 

Island House Excerpt:

 

“You’re Ahern?”

 

The voice belonged to a tall, dark-haired man who would have been handsome save for the stubble covering his face. The rugged two-day growth transformed his slightly sharp features into something dangerous, and paired with his slight tan and blue eyes, the end result was nothing short of breathtakingly gorgeous. Were it not for the faded button-down and pair of tattered Dockers the man was wearing, Niall would have sworn he was an 18th century pirate somehow transported to the modern day.

 

Niall didn’t realize he’d been staring, until Jacks cleared his throat and stepped forward, hand outstretched to welcome the visitor. Niall swallowed, his already heat-flushed cheeks burning with the beginnings of a blush. He hadn’t reacted to a man like this since—well, since ever. Niall’s only serious relationship had been with a man he’d known since childhood, and it definitely hadn’t started with a spark of lust like this. He felt a familiar pang of guilt at the thought of finding a man other than Nolan attractive, though Nolan had been gone for years.

 

“Sorry?” Niall asked when it became clear the would-be pirate was talking to him again.

 

“I asked if you were Niall Ahern,” the man said, blue eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Niall. “He said he’d be here to pick me up—”

 

“Mr. Bettencourt!” Niall felt his stomach drop. Ethan Bettencourt was one of the world’s most sought-after software developers and technology consultants. He wore Armani suits and custom-made Italian shoes, not ancient Dockers and flip-flops. But as Niall stared at him, he could see the full lips and aquiline nose that had made Ethan fodder for gossip magazines across the world. It was definitely him.

 

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Niall said, rushing forward. He wasn’t sure if he should shake his hand or offer to take his luggage, and as a result he did neither, hand raised awkwardly in front of him as his mind tried to catch up and figure out what to do.

 

Bettencourt solved Niall’s dilemma by shifting his bag to his other hand and reaching out to take Niall’s half-raised hand. “Call me Ethan.”

 

The contact had Niall cringing inside, the cool skin of Ethan’s hand making him even more aware of his own sweaty palm.

 

“Of course,” Niall said, cursing himself for being so flustered. He’d never had this problem before when greeting important clients. Of course, he’d never had an important client who was as gorgeous as Ethan, nor one who could keep Niall’s business afloat for another year with a single transaction.

 

“Welcome to the islan’, Ethan,” Jacks said, sliding back into his put-on accent and into an easy conversation with Ethan about his flight and the weather forecast for the next few days. It bought Niall enough time to marshal his thoughts, and he made a mental note to buy Jacks a beer the next time he saw him at The Cab, the tiny bar where most of the locals gathered to get away from tourists.

 

“My car is just outside,” Niall said, reaching out with more grace this time to take Ethan’s bag. Ethan let him, his full lips quirking into a small smile that had Niall’s heart racing again. “I thought you might like a chance to settle in at the hotel. If you like, I can leave you with some of the information on the listings we’ll be looking at tomorrow.”

 

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he dug in his pocket, pulling out a Blackberry that looked like it had been through a war zone. The screen was scuffed and the back was covered with scrapes and deep scratches. It was more suited to a rock climber or beach bum than a man who’d made his fortune in technology. Before Niall could say anything, Ethan had dialed and was pressing the phone against his ear, his tanned knuckles skimming his jaw.

 

“Explain to me why Mr. Ahern has no idea I’m staying with him for the duration of my trip to Tortola,” he barked into the phone without preamble, startling Niall with both the tone of his voice and the unexpected information.

 

Niall’s brow creased, his brain registering Ethan’s words as the other man lapsed into silence, apparently listening to whoever was on the other end of the phone. He’d had his office manager, Keandra, handle all the arrangements for Ethan’s visit. Niall had assumed she’d gotten Ethan a suite at Frenchman’s Lookout. It was standard operating procedure with their high-end clients, even though accommodations at the pricey resort cost Niall more than double his monthly mortgage on his boat and the office combined. The hotel gave him a bit of a discount, since he was a local, but still, it was a shock every time the bill came. Regardless, it was worth it. Even if he spent upward of $10,000 wining and dining a single client for a week.

 

“… absolutely not. I’ll fly back if that’s the case.”

 

Niall’s head flicked up at the finality in Ethan’s tone. He was obviously not happy with whatever the person on the other end of the battered cell phone was telling him. Niall swallowed, mentally inventorying the state of his house. He hadn’t been home in weeks, as per his usual September routine. It was the one month out of the year Niall decamped to his boat and lived on it full-time. His quick trip home to change into the suit he was wearing had been the first time he’d been in the bungalow since the beginning of the month. Niall made a quick mental study of the rooms, trying to picture whether he’d seen laundry strewn around the bathroom or plates cluttering the kitchen. He didn’t think there had been.

 

Niall wondered if he should pull out his own phone and call Keandra, but it was her afternoon off. He hated to bother her when she was out with her son. Between her job as Niall’s office manager and working second shift at The Cab, she didn’t have much time with Sebastian. He was brushing the top of his pocket to delve inside for his cell when Ethan made a disgusted noise and stabbed at a button on his phone, glaring at it for good measure before tossing it haphazardly on top of the suitcase he’d set on the terminal floor. No mystery to why it was so banged up, then, Niall thought absently as Ethan swung his black gaze over to focus on him.

 

“Apparently there has been a miscommunication.” Ethan ground his teeth together, the motion making the tendons in his neck stand out in a way Niall knew should have been off-putting but wasn’t. “Susannah somehow overlooked the arrangements your secretary sent her along with the appointment confirmation.”

 

Niall wondered if Susannah would still have a job when her boss returned to the mainland; Ethan was infamous for his hair-trigger temper and his exacting standards. Niall had done a fair bit of research on Ethan when he’d taken him on as a client, and one thing that had come up time and again was Ethan’s penchant for dramatics.

 

Niall felt for the secretary. It couldn’t be easy to work for someone as demanding as Ethan Bettencourt. He was beginning to find that out firsthand, and he’d only been in his employ for several minutes.

 

“I only have thirty-six hours to find a home, Ahern, and I don’t intend to waste any of them lounging poolside at whatever passes for a resort here,” Ethan snapped. Niall stiffened his spine at the insult. Tortola was the gem of the British Virgin Islands, a place he and Nolan had handpicked out of dozens of potential islands when they’d been looking for a place to start a business. He opened his mouth to respond, but Ethan was off and running again before Niall could form any words. “I’ll be staying with you. If you have a problem with that, I’ll find someone else to work with.”

 

Niall’s lips flattened at the threat. There were plenty of other firms here Ethan could give his business to; Niall knew that all too well. His tiny independent real estate firm hardly caught any of the multimillion-dollar action, and the thought of losing such a big client made his skin turn clammy under the weight of his heavy suit. He was sure Ethan knew he couldn’t afford to lose the commission; in fact, he wouldn’t put it past him to have picked Niall’s firm simply because he knew Niall’s desperation would make him agree to just about anything.

 

“You’d be much more comfortable at a hotel.” Niall ground the words out, forcing himself to smile.

 

Ethan studied him for a second before patting his pockets in search of his phone. Niall was about to point it out on his suitcase when Ethan pulled a slimmer, sleeker phone out of his shirt pocket. It was much more in line with what Niall had expected a man like Ethan to carry.

 

“Change in plans.” Just like before, Ethan didn’t pause for the person on the other end to get a greeting in. “Refuel the plane and have it ready for me in ten minutes.”

 

Niall’s eyes widened and he stepped forward slightly, panicked. “I—”

 

“Joe? Never mind.”

 

Niall watched Ethan end the call, Ethan’s full lips twisted into a smirk. It made Niall wonder if Ethan really would have left. The calculating gleam in the other man’s eyes made him pretty certain it hadn’t been an empty threat.

 

“You be needin’ a car, Mr. Niall?” Jacks’s voice took Niall off guard, and he shook his head slightly. He’d driven to the airport, as he was sure Jacks well knew. The parking lot wasn’t very big, and Jacks would have seen the familiar battered Mercedes when he parked his cab.

 

“No, Jacks. We’ll be fine,” Niall said. His brain felt woolly and like it was trying to catch up. He’d been in a fog ever since Ethan had stepped into the terminal, and he needed to shake it off.

 

“Storm’s comin’,” Jacks said, picking up Ethan’s bag and walking toward the exit as if Niall hadn’t spoken. For a second, he wondered if he hadn’t actually said the words out loud, but then Ethan turned toward him and arched an eyebrow.

 

“Your car?”

 

“Right.” Niall jogged a few paces to catch up with Ethan and Jacks, the wind outside drawing his attention for the first time. It had kicked up considerably since he’d arrived at the airport. The tall palms were thrashing from side to side and the sky was an ominous shade of dark gray.

 

“Didn’t think Sookie was supposed to make landfall here,” Niall said, squinting at the clouds that seemed to be hovering unusually low.

 

“That’s Thalia.” Ethan shrugged when both Jacks and Niall looked surprised to hear him weigh in. “Sookie fell apart, but Thalia was right behind it. Looks like we won’t get so lucky with her.”

 

God, he hoped the storm didn’t actually hit, Niall thought sourly as he opened the trunk for Jacks. That’s all he needed, to be stuck in a tiny bungalow with his jackass of a client during a tropical storm.

Buy links: Dreamspinner Press, Amazon, ARe

 

 

 

 

 

Bru Baker is a freelance journalist who writes for newspapers and magazines. Fiction makes her happiest, whether it’s creating her own characters or getting caught up in someone else’s. She and her husband live in the Midwest with their two young children, whose antics make finding time to write difficult but never let life get boring.

Visit Bru online at www.bru-baker.com or follow her on Facebook and  Twitter.

 

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Please welcome Charley Descoteaux!

Thanks for having me, Kim, and Happy Holidays!

I’m visiting some of my wonderful friends to talk about my holiday story “Toy Run” and give away some goodies! The Rafflecopter will be open through December 19th, and it’s packed with prizes—a hand-knit wool hat, Dreamspinner store credit, and, of course, books!

“Toy Run” was my contribution to the 2013 Dreamspinner Press Advent Calendar, Heartwarming. “Heartwarming” isn’t always easy for me—my stories usually veer off into darker, more angsty territory fairly quickly. That’s why I kept “Toy Run” short. The only problem with short stories is they don’t have a lot of room for backstory. But I need to know the backstory if I’m going to write about a character, so I do a lot of daydreaming about my guys and write some flash fiction just to see what’ll come out. Today I’m going to share a flash fic that takes place almost twenty years before “Toy Run” when Ian was in high school.

 

Wake up and smell the ninety-weight. 

“Ian, get in here!”

I leaned my shoulder against the wall beside the kitchen door and peeked in. Wasn’t about to pull off my boots unless it was lunchtime.

“What’s up?”

“That boy down the street—what’s his name, Mike? He’s on the phone for you.”

My gut clenched and the rag that’d been spreading the grease over my hands dropped onto my boot.

“I’m busy.”

Granddad squinted at me and I showed him the grease on my hands. He pointed a finger at me so I’d stay where I was, and told Mickey he should stop by later.

“What’s that about? You mix it up with him too?”

I rolled my eyes, because that’s what the guys at school did whenever someone asked if they’d been fighting.

“No. The carburetor’s in pieces. It’s not—”

“Wake up and smell the ninety-weight, son. That bike’s a basket case. Only thing worth saving is the frame, and I’m not a hundred percent on that.”

After a short stare-down he waved me back outside. I sat down hard on the driveway on the far side of the bike. Mickey’d better not be stupid enough to come by while Granddad was still awake.

“Toy Run,” by Charley Descoteaux

Former physical therapist and reluctant loner Ian Bowen has spent the three years since his grandfather’s death searching for a man to inspire him to park his Harley for a while—without much hope of finding him. On a whim, he shows up for a Toy Run and meets Ed Gonzalez, another loner with a pile of toys lashed to his bike. A few beers at the end-of-the-run party turn into an invite to Ed’s for homebrew. But instead of a night of fun, the unseasonable cold renders Ed immobile with pain. When he tells Ian he just needs meds, Ian does one of the things he does best—he massages Ed’s pain away, allowing him a rare restful night’s sleep and creating intimacy neither wants to lose. Ian thinks two men have to follow certain rules to be together, but Ed’s prepared to show him how wrong he is.

Toy Run is available to purchase from Dreamspinner Press.

Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Where and When:

Nov. 29: Tempeste O’Riley

Dec. 1: Grace R. Duncan

Dec. 8: Jana Denardo

Dec. 10: Kim Fielding

Dec. 11: Amber Kell

Dec. 16: Anne Barwell

Dec. 18: Skylar Cates

 

Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived droughts, earthquakes, floods, and over a decade living in an area affectionately known (in her strange little world) as Portland’s middle finger, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.

Rattle Charley’s cages—she’d love to hear from you!

Blog:  http://cdescoteauxwrites.com/blog/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/charley.descoteaux.3

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/CharleyDescote

Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/aqe7g7r

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/charleydescote/

e-mail: c.descoteauxwrites@gmail.com

 

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Release day blitz: DIY Delights by Taylin Clavelli

Title: DIY Delights

Author: Taylin Clavelli

Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing

Synopsis

While renovating his first house with his partner, Mike, Duncan discovers a plethora of reasons to use his favourite word… Bollocks!

Buy the short story:

AMAZON US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00OJZ2GUE/

AMAZON UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00OJZ2GUE/

AMAZON AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00OJZ2GUE/

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/diy-delights-taylin-clavelli/1120558942?ean=9781925222197

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-diydelights-1682069-145.html

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/diy-delights-by-taylin-clavelli/

Excerpt

I LOVE the word bollocks. It can be used in so many situations. For instance:

Accident: “Bollocks! Mike, I broke a plate.”

Frustration: “Bollocks! Fuckin’ thing’s not working—again.”

Wonder: “Bollocks! Look at the size of that! Isn’t the Grand Canyon deep?”

Haha—I bet you thought I was going somewhere else with that.

Statement: “You’re talking a load of bollocks.”

Action: “Those would be a pair of bollocks you’ve just dropped, nurse.”

Description: “Those bollocks are far too hairy to belong to a gay man.”

And my favorite—fact: “Don’t you go anywhere, Mike! Those bollocks are mine.”

I’ve used the word with all those meanings during my brief history. I didn’t wait until adulthood, either.

In the course of my adolescent years, I went through the stages every teen did.

Couch potato.

Do I have to?

I’m playing a game.

What, now?

And the ultimate

Pft…

Through those phases, bollocks was used as an under-the-breath forerunner to the answer I shouted to my parents. If ever they heard me say it as part of the answer, I was truly bollocksed.

In later teen years, it was my parents who used the word, mostly. Mum and Dad were stoked I was getting off my bum and doing stuff. Unfortunately, for some, vacating a seat meant putting a power tool in my hands—and that scared them. Following the development, I’d usually hear the word in anger from Dad, due to the mess left behind after a job.

“Bollocks! Duncan,” he’d yell.

While getting to a place to save my game, I’d slowly slide off my bed.

Walking down the stairs, I’d hear Mum say, “You should know he can’t do any job unless a power tool is involved. The broom doesn’t plug in.”

Frequently, during that couple of years, my mouth wasn’t attached to my brain. Basically, I was a cheeky bastard.

“One step at a time, Dad. I’m not at the stage where I can do a job andclean up. The transformation takes time.”

About the author:

Taylin Clavelli lives in the United Kingdom, about 15 miles south of Birmingham, and a short journey from the world famous Cadbury’s Chocolate factory. She’s married with children and loves her family with all her heart.

Her love of books has been a long standing affair, with Taylin liking nothing better than to lose herself in an imaginary world.

Until she met Lily Velden, she never considered trying her hand at writing. However, after talking ideas, Lily encouraged her to put pen to paper—or rather, fingers to keyboard. Since, with a few virtual kicks in the right place, she hasn’t stopped. Her confidence eventually led to her writing an original work for submission.

Her first published work was Boys, Toys, and Carpet Fitters, developed for the Dreamspinner Press Anthology – Don’t Try This At Home.

Now she absolutely adores immersing herself into the characters she creates, and transferring the pictures in her brain to paper, finding it liberating, therapeutic, and wonderful.

Outside of writing, her interests include; martial arts (she’s a 2nd Degree Black Belt in Taekwon-do), horse-riding, all of which facilitates her love of a wide variety of movies. Her action heroes include Jet Li and Tony Jaa—finding the dedication these men have for their art combined with their skill both amazing and a privilege to watch. If pressed, she’ll admit to thinking that the screen entrance of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Caribbean – Curse of the Black Pearl, and Shadowfax in LOTR, to be the greatest screen entrances ever. Her all-time favorite movies are Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.

The simple things in life that make her day, putting a smile on her face are:

Laughter – especially that of her children.

The smell of lasagna cooking – it makes her mouth salivate.

The dawn chorus – no symphony ever written can beat the waking greetings of the birds.

Social links:

Website: http://www.taylinclavelli.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005234535413

Twitter: https://twitter.com/taylinclavelli

More from Taylin Clavelli

Dakota Skies

Born in the wrong time…

In 1875 Dakota, Sheriff Jamie Carter has to hide his interest in men, even from his gutsy twin sister, Anna. On a good day, the truth can mean a bullet between the eyes, and on a bad, one in the back.

A man on a mission…

Jamie leaves Anna in charge of Blackrock and he hits the bounty hunting trail, along with his faithful equine companion, Houston. Five territories, scores of ‘Wanted’ posters, and many bullets later, his path unexpectedly converges with that of enigmatic loner, Kit Brooks.

Two men with one soul…

Will the smoldering fire between them rage into an inferno and break down protective barriers, allowing them to find love? Or will it separate and kill them?

Beneath Dakota skies…

Jamie and Kit’s story is a sweeping saga of cowboys, Indians, persistent broads, and vengeful villains, where the cowboys aren’t always the good guys, and love can’t be taken for granted.

Buy links:

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/dakota-skies/

Amazon US:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NHPMJ7C/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00NHPMJ7C/

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dakota-skies-taylin-clavelli/1120358729?ean=9781925222036

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What’s Kim Reading Now: Purpose by Andrew Q. Gordon

Actually, I read this one a while ago, but it’s stuck with me.

William Morgan lost his humanity 40 years ago when he was possessed by a spirit of vengeance. Over the years, he’s served his Purpose–but he’s also lost touch with all that is kind and good in the world. Things change when he meets Ryan, a young man who lacks self-confidence but who turns out to be stronger than either man thinks.

I liked the premise of this story a lot. The theme of vengeance stealing compassion, sympathy, and love from the heart is very well done. It’s all put together in an original way, with strong, tight writing. I easily got lost in the world the author has created.

In some ways, this is not a typical romance. Yet the growing relationship between William and Ryan serves a major purpose in advancing the plot. I also liked both characters very much. It’s not a light read, but definitely an engrossing one.

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Blast from the Past: Deception by Grace R. Duncan

Tagline: Cyrus and Nadir care deeply for each other but they’ve forgotten the first rule of love: communicate in honesty. Their love remains strong enough to weather the changes—if they have the courage not only to face the coming dangers, but to put aside deception and find their truth.

Title: Deception Author: Grace R. Duncan Series: Golden Collar #2 Genre: M/M, Historical, BDSM, Erotic Romance Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Release Date: November 1st, 2013 Cover Artist: Paul Richmond Format/s: eBook / Paperback Length: 380 pages

Blurb:

Cyrus and Nadir first met as hungry orphans on Behekam’s streets at twelve years old. They became friends, then partners in the thievery that enabled them to survive, and as they passed their days together, they fell in love. When they are both taken as pleasure slaves in the opulent palace of the Malik of Neyem, love becomes more complicated.

Rumors of an attempt on Malik Bathasar’s life put Cyrus and Nadir’s relationship to the test—they must pose convincingly as intimate slaves to the young malik as part of a plan to lure the assassin into the open. Teman—Malik Bathasar’s real personal pleasure slave and true lover—was once trained by Cyrus for the same duties, and the attraction and care Cyrus developed for him then still remains. The Malik of Neyem proves an easy man to love and Nadir’s feelings for him grow while they’re pretending to love each other.

Cyrus and Nadir care deeply for each other but they’ve forgotten the first rule of love: communicate in honesty. Their love remains strong enough to weather the changes—if they have the courage not only to face the coming dangers, but to put aside deception and find their truth. A Timeless Dreams title: While reaction to same-sex relationships throughout time and across cultures has not always been positive, these stories celebrate M/M love in a manner that may address, minimize, or ignore historical stigma.

Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4384 Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GDGY15K/ All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-deception-1334872-147.html

Excerpt: (Rating: Mature)

“Your hair is getting long, Cyrus. About due for a trim?” Karum asked.

Cyrus nodded and tilted his head back as Karum poured the water over him. “Yes. It is. Nadir says he likes it like this, but it gets in my eyes and drives me insane. Though, if Nadir likes it, I may just leave it and learn to deal.”

Karum laughed. “Makes me glad I don’t have a lover. I like my hair the way it is.”

Cyrus glanced over his shoulder at Karum’s very short black hair. It was cropped almost to the scalp and in tight curls. Karum had dark skin, much darker than any of the other slaves, and it was rumored that he had been picked up by a trading caravan on the other side of the sea. “Oh, it is worth it.”

“Even here?” Karum asked.

Cyrus hesitated. How many times had he said something like absolutely! But he wasn’t sure that was true anymore. He glanced up at Nadir, who caught his eye and smiled. That smile always made him feel better, always warmed him, and he put aside his gloomy thoughts. He returned Nadir’s smile, and his lover’s widened. “Yes, even here,” Cyrus replied. “We are limited, but I can accept that to have Nadir with me. I love him.” He shrugged a shoulder at the simple statement and closed his eyes so Karum could rinse his hair.

Karum made quick and silent work of the rest of Cyrus’s bathing; then he was dried off and moved to the bench to be adorned. These adornments hadn’t changed much since Bathasar had taken the throne, as the nobility they appeared at dinners to entertain still liked to see them. So the basket Karum brought over contained a familiar jumble of gold in chains, clips, and other things.

Salehi stepped in at that moment and crossed the room. “Just a moment, Karum. They won’t be using all of that yet. They will be taking some of it along.” He lifted a cloth bag. “The snake and chains that connect to it will be put on them later.” So saying, he lifted a few items from the basket and placed them in the bag. He handed a light golden version of their cock cages to Karum. “Put this on him first,” he instructed, and Karum did as he bid, oiling the inside of the cage portion before securing it in place and locking it.

The next thing Karum picked up was a metal plug. Cyrus braced himself on the bench as oiled fingers stretched him just enough to take it. Karum worked it into him slowly. Then, at a light tap on his back, he stood and fidgeted slightly as the pressure on his prostate increased. It was one thing he never really got used to. He wasn’t plugged all that often, except when he was present for court dinners.

His collar and cuffs were returned to him next. His collar was like the other slaves’: wide and thin, made of etched gold. It was hinged in the back with a loop in the front for the lock and another below it. Originally, the second loop had been for a leash to be attached, but Bathasar refused to allow them—one of the changes he made to the slaves’ treatment—and so it was reserved to connect simple decorative chains instead.

The cuffs were made just like the collars, without locks. Roughly two inches wide, they were very thin and etched in a similar pattern as the collar. They had small rings on either side of the wrists, but that was all.

Karum next fitted small gold nipple rings that surrounded Cyrus’s nipples, and pinched them closed. They didn’t hurt—barely even put pressure on them, just enough to stay in place and cause his nipples to harden. Cyrus could—and often did—take pain during the course of his service, so he didn’t mind a bit of it, but he liked these rings because they didn’t cause any. Chains were attached to the rings, then hung between his nipples and connected to the loop on his collar.

He was given gold hoops for his ears and more snakes to wrap around his biceps. Karum carefully combed his hair, Salehi handed him the bag with the other items in it, and he was ready.

When he looked at Nadir, adorned as his lover was, his cock jumped. He never got enough of seeing Nadir done up like this. Nadir’s lighter olive skin warmed with the gold, and the thought came to Cyrus that someday, maybe, he could put jewelry on Nadir—jewelry he had purchased just for his lover.

He closed the distance across the room and took Nadir’s hand. “You are, as always, beautiful,” Cyrus murmured and kissed Nadir on his cheek, near his ear.

Nadir’s smile was wide. “You are the beautiful one, Cy.” Cyrus shook his head, but Nadir just laughed. “Stop. You know it is true. Lord Atherol tells us all the time. So does Teman. Even the malik.”

“They also say that you are, as well,” Cyrus countered, and Nadir laughed again.

“That is true,” he conceded. “Well, we shouldn’t keep our master for the night waiting, should we?”

“No, we should not,” Cyrus agreed. He turned toward the door, and, with head bows at Salehi, they made their way out of the slaves’ wing.

 

Praise for GRACE R. DUNCAN

“I really enjoyed the characters, and loved watching them on their journey. Duncan does a great job of giving a really detailed story, and taking us on a great ride as two men find their happily ever after.”

—Joyfully Jay, on “No Sacrifice”

“There were so many wonderful themes going on in this story, I was wrapped up in them all and couldn’t wait to see how Grace brought them all together.”

—Love Bytes Reviews, on “No Sacrifice”

“I don’t really read a lot of historical fiction but some of it is damn good, including Grace Duncan’s Choices… The world building is excellent and draws you right in. The character development is also wonderful.”

—Mrs. Condit & Friends Reads Books, on “Choices”

 

Grace’s Bio:

Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica. A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Grace’s website: http://www.grace-duncan.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GraceRDuncan2 Twitter: @GraceRDuncan Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/gracerduncan Google +: https://plus.google.com/+GraceDuncanAuthor/posts

 

 

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Holiday stories off the beaten track

It’s that time of year–holiday stories! And I wanted to give you a list of mine in case you’ve missed any of them. Most of mine tend to be a little unusual in some sense.

All my royalties from the first two go to Doctors Without Borders, so please consider making a purchase!

The Festivus Miracle

It’s finals week during Tony McNeil’s second year in law school, and he’s struggling to keep up. Frankly, he’d rather be cooking. Then he meets first-year student Eddie Cohen-Fernandez, who’s heartsick over missing his family’s annual Festivus celebration. Tony can use his culinary skills to lift Eddie’s spirits, but finding long-term happiness? That just might require a Festivus miracle.

Available at Amazon

Joys R Us

Reece is a practical, orderly man, a financial analyst who considers most holiday events wasteful. But his sister coerces him into standing in line overnight for this year’s must-have toy. Supplies prove smaller than expected, and Reece gets trampled in the resulting stampede. Toy store manager Angel tends to Reece’s wounds. When Angel discovers Reece’s cynical attitude, he invites Reece to spend Christmas Eve with him. Over the course of the day, Angel shows Reece what Christmas means to him. With Angel’s guidance, maybe Reece can finally understand the joy of the holiday—and maybe even find love as well.

Available at Amazon

Saint Martin’s Day

Five years ago, Neno Kovac fled California, graduate school, and his lover, Toby Cowan, to return to his native Croatia. Since then, he’s led a quiet life as a librarian—until one November afternoon when Toby, who has never stopped loving Neno, shows up in Zagreb. When he left the United States, Neno wasn’t ready to give up his home and family to take a chance on a long-distance relationship. But Saint Martin’s Day has arrived, the day pressed grapes turn to wine and autumn turns to winter. Perhaps it will be a day when other changes are possible as well.

Available at Dreamspinner Press and Amazon

Alaska

Best friends Scott and Marco meet on a rooftop on Christmas Eve, each temporarily escaping from his difficult home life. With no gift to share, Marco instead promises to someday rescue Scott and take him to Alaska. As the years pass, they meet—first by design, then by chance—on occasional Christmas Eves, only to find life growing increasingly difficult. They treasure the few moments they have together, but will they ever reach Alaska?

Available at Dreamspinner Press and Amazon

A Great Miracle Happened There

This winter, Jude Bloch can’t decide what bothers him more—the crowds of people or the holiday revelry. Even meeting handsome chef Mac Appel fails to cheer him up because Jude knows the most he could hope for is a one-night stand. But one night turns into two and then more. Maybe Mac can bring some warmth into Jude’s holiday season.

Available at Dreamspinner Press and Amazon

 

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Ooh! That’s Interesting!: Glass dildos

During a recent trip to San Francisco, a friend and I wandered into one of Good Vibrations several Bay Area locations. I’d been to a different location before, but not this one. It’s a great store–very sex-positive and non-scrungy. The type of place in which the sweet salesclerk (who, it turns out, is a human sexuality major) can get into a lengthy and enthusiastic discussion with you about a personal training device for one’s kegel muscles. (All three of us immediately concluded that it’s a Fitbit for your nether parts).

The store has a lovely display of glass dildos and other glass dildos, all of which would be suitable as art pieces. If you don’t mind explanations to mothers-in-law or young children. My friend was skeptical about whether these items would really be safe to insert in one’s body. But the sales clerk assured her that they’re very safe and completely shatterproof. She also listed a bunch of advantages of glass dildos. Among them:

Easy to clean
Can be used with any kind of lube
Can be used for temperature play by first submersing them in cold or warm water
Their firmness feels good
No nasty chemicals
Last forever

Neither of us bought a glass dildo (they’re pretty expensive). But wow. Interesting.

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