S.L. Armstrong's Blog, page 14

Recipe Monday: My Awesome Pulled Pork

Over the Fourth of July holiday, I was craving barbeque, but not the barbeque you find from most take away joints or in the prepared food section of the market. I wanted like… slow-cooked Carolina barbeque that was lightly spiced and coated in a sweet-hot vinegar sauce. This meant I had to create what I wanted. So, the husband-thing went to the market, picked up a 6lb bone-in pork shoulder roast, and I went to town. The results were amazing. Not a bit left over. In fact, the following weekend, the husband-thing fetched 20lbs worth of bone-in shoulder roasts so I could do it again and have plenty stocked up in the freezer for quick meals.

I’m going to share with you my rub, my cooking method, and my sauce. It’s absolutely delicious and hit the spot for us.

Meat

5-7lb bone-in pork shoulder roast

¼ C apple cider vinegar

¼ C water

Rub

1 TBSP ground cumin

1 TBSP garlic powder

1 TBSP onion powder

1 TBSP salt

1 TBSP black pepper

1 TBSP paprika

1 tsp cayenne pepper

1/2C brown sugar

Sauce

¼ C reserved rub spice

¼ C apple cider vinegar

¼ C dill pickle juice

¼ C tomato sauce

½ C apple juice

4 ounces unsweetened applesauce

1 ½ TBSP honey

1 TBSP whiskey (I prefer Jack Daniels)

Preheat the oven to 300F. I highly suggest investing in an oven thermometer. Husband-thing knows I’ve been after one for years, and he finally surprised me with one recently. Discovered my oven runs about 25F hotter than I set it, so this is an invaluable tool.

While your oven is preheating, make your spice rub. Dump everything into a bowl, mix it thoroughly, and reserve ¼ C of the mixture. With your pork roast in the pan you plan to cook it in, dump the rub on. Massage it in. Make sure every nook and cranny is spiced, and then set the roast in the pan with the fat side up. This is very important as it’s the fat that helps keep the roast moist. Add your ¼ C vinegar and ¼ C water to the pan, cover it with aluminum foil. Stash it in the oven for 6-12 hours, basting it every couple of hours until the meat falls off the bone. I test this by stabbing it with a fork and giving a little twist. The meat should pull easily.

Pull it out of the oven and let it cool. You don’t want to handle 300F meat, trust me.

As for the sauce, bang everything into a pot. Heat on moderate heat until it boils. Only let it boil a couple of minutes (to help burn off some of the alcohol bite from the whiskey), and then strain it through a sieve double-lined with paper toweling. Be patient with this. You want to remove all the particulates so this is a thin, flavorful sauce. Toss away the paper towels full of apple pulp and spices. Here is where you need to taste the sauce. TASTE YOUR FOOD.

Is it too spicy? Too sweet? Not tart enough? Adjust here with vinegar, apple juice, honey, brown sugar until you get just the right taste for you and your family. This should make enough sauce to soak your pulled pork with some left over for saucing buns or what have you.

Once the pork is cool, don some gloves and get pulling. I tend to be really picky, discarding ALL fat. Add the sauce to the pulled pork, toss it around, and viola! Awesome pulled pork with sweet Carolina barbeque sauce. It’s really disgustingly good.

New “Making Ends Meet” Teaser

I thought I would bring you another teaser for K. Piet’s and my upcoming fall release, Mae.

—

Devain smiled, patted him on the back. “Stress is a bitch.”

“Yeah, it is.” Zach nudged Devain. “But you’re right. It’s just a few hundred more words.”

“And then you have your—” Jamie lifted up another textbook and read the Post It note on the cover. “‘Pick three crimes from the list and discuss their economic impact on the local level’ assignment.”

Zach threw a pencil at Jamie, laughing softly. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Just trying to help.” Jamie grinned at him. “Which three crimes are you going to pick?”

“I have no idea. I don’t even want to think about crime and money and the impact on a city.”

“What else do you have?” Piper asked, poking around his books.

Zach let out a slow breath. “I have to do the study guide questions for Ethics. We have our first exam next week. That shouldn’t be too bad. I have all the notes and material. I also missed a second class for Ethics, and let me tell you, Professor Wall is not happy with me. She told me I could miss one more class this semester, but to make up for the second absence, I have to write a 3,000 word paper on morality, religion, and altruism. I can sum up the whole thing in one sentence: Altruism doesn’t exist, religion formed mass morality, and we are only kind because it serves Ego.”

Devain let out a low whistle. “Bitter much?”

“Exhaustion and pent up sexual frustration,” Zach said, his cheeks heating a little.

“Sexual frustration isn’t a problem for me,” Jamie said. “Jack is waiting back at the apartment, keeping the bed nice and warm.”

“Lucky you,” Piper said as she kicked him under the table. “Some of us don’t even have a Friday night date to look forward to.”

“My Friday night is just work. Work at Walmart, work on assignments, and then work to make sure Mae is amused, and then hopefully healthy enough to fall asleep without a fuss.” Zach couldn’t help but feel frustrated when all his schedule looked like was one endless pile of books, pills, and bills.

New “Mae” Teaser

I thought I would bring you another teaser for K. Piet’s and my upcoming fall release, Mae.

—

Devain smiled, patted him on the back. “Stress is a bitch.”

“Yeah, it is.” Zach nudged Devain. “But you’re right. It’s just a few hundred more words.”

“And then you have your—” Jamie lifted up another textbook and read the Post It note on the cover. “‘Pick three crimes from the list and discuss their economic impact on the local level’ assignment.”

Zach threw a pencil at Jamie, laughing softly. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Just trying to help.” Jamie grinned at him. “Which three crimes are you going to pick?”

“I have no idea. I don’t even want to think about crime and money and the impact on a city.”

“What else do you have?” Piper asked, poking around his books.

Zach let out a slow breath. “I have to do the study guide questions for Ethics. We have our first exam next week. That shouldn’t be too bad. I have all the notes and material. I also missed a second class for Ethics, and let me tell you, Professor Wall is not happy with me. She told me I could miss one more class this semester, but to make up for the second absence, I have to write a 3,000 word paper on morality, religion, and altruism. I can sum up the whole thing in one sentence: Altruism doesn’t exist, religion formed mass morality, and we are only kind because it serves Ego.”

Devain let out a low whistle. “Bitter much?”

“Exhaustion and pent up sexual frustration,” Zach said, his cheeks heating a little.

“Sexual frustration isn’t a problem for me,” Jamie said. “Jack is waiting back at the apartment, keeping the bed nice and warm.”

“Lucky you,” Piper said as she kicked him under the table. “Some of us don’t even have a Friday night date to look forward to.”

“My Friday night is just work. Work at Walmart, work on assignments, and then work to make sure Mae is amused, and then hopefully healthy enough to fall asleep without a fuss.” Zach couldn’t help but feel frustrated when all his schedule looked like was one endless pile of books, pills, and bills.

Jobs In Romance, What I’d Love to See More Of

There was a conversation about what jobs people would like to see more of in the gay romance genre. As I read through it, I was reminded of the stuff I didn’t like. I’m tired of the police and firemen because they’re not usually written right (my father-in-law is a firefighter). Right now, the wave being ridden is the rock star (which SMP is enabling by having an anthology of rock stars followed by a line, but…). There’s always some rich mogul to wave money in front of a poor, needy love interest.

You never see a plumber. A cab driver. A banker. A computer programmer. A game developer. An electrician. A mail clerk. If you do, they’re typically the one being saved by the rich mogul.

I was thinking about my characters:

Judas – independently wealthy due to being immortal

Hadi – fashion detailer for high end fashion shows

Nikola – independently wealthy due to being immortal

Aric – piano prodigy

Kasper – psychologist, and then a pedatrician

Logan – odd jobs until he landed an entry level position at an ad firm

Caleb – mail processor

Scott – CEO of a software development company

Bastian – nighttime gas station attendant

Riley – vet tech

Zach – Wal-Mart clerk

Wil – CVS pharmacy tech

Rhys – corporate lawyer

Aspen – sandwich shop clerk

Andrew – songwriter

Ben – database administrator

Cade – rancher

North – country music singer

My guys have run the gamut, I think. XD Most of my WIPs are also feature jobs not usually chosen, which I love. It tends to mean I’m researching a new job for every book, which has me learning an awful lot. I love diversity in professions and financial levels in my fiction. I’m not a huge fan of the rich man doting on a poor boy sort of theme unless it serves as a HUGE plot and character development arc. Still, I know I there’s a lot more I could do with my characters’ professions.

I’d really like to see more every day jobs. Clerks, small business owners, drivers… Yeah, working for Pizza Hut may not be glamorous, but it pays the bills! I like that touch of reality to my fantasy, you know? I’ve worked for a craft store, a video store, mailroom clerk, payment processor… a lot of it taught me how to interact with people while keeping a smile on my face. But it’s made me appreciate the hard work that goes into bringing home a paycheck.

Some of the top common jobs in the United States? Retail clerks, office clerks, food service, nurses, waitstaff, customer service/help desk, material movers (truck loaders, loading dock workers, baggage handlers), janitors, secretaries, CPAs, general managers, truck drivers, and elementary school teachers. These are not wealth-making jobs. They’re every day jobs. Jobs that keep this country moving, and I’d love to see those jobs celebrated more in fiction (even romance, where fantasy reigns supreme).

Hell, maybe when I start forming my next book, I’ll just put on an episode of Dirty Jobs and pick one of the professions there! XD That would be fun. I like the challenge, and it might just help build an awesomely different story.

So! Come on, fellow authors! Challenge yourselves. Write outside the box. Even if it scares you.

Recipe Monday: Strawberry-Rhubarb Crisp

For a short time in the spring, fresh rhubarb shows up in my grocery store. It’s a brief, wonderful season here that I try to always take advantage of. I buy it cheap and freeze it. When I run out, I can usually find it sold frozen online, and I can buy it then. I much prefer buying it locally and freezing it myself, though, so I can use it year round. I love the tart, astringent flavor of it on its own, but paired with strawberries (also perfectly in season in spring), it’s a match made in culinary heaven.

Ingredients

1lbs rhubarb, sliced thickly

1-1 1/2lbs strawberries, quartered

3/4C sugar

1/4C flour

1TBSP lemon juice

1/2tsp salt

Crisp topping:

1C old fashioned oats

1/2C flour

1/2C brown sugar

1/4C white sugar

1 stick butter, cold and cubed

1/2tsp salt

This makes six individual servings in 6oz ramekins.

Using softened butter, grease the interior of the ramekins. Preheat oven to 350F.

In a bowl, combine strawberries, rhubarb, sugar, flour, lemon juice, and salt. Mix thoroughly. Portion into the six ramekins.

In another bowl, add oats, flour, sugars, salt, and butter. Using your fingers, work the butter into the dry ingredients until it makes a crumble topping. Top the six ramekins. Don’t pack it on tightly, just enough to keep it in place. Put the ramekins on a sheet tray lined with foil and bake them for 30-45 minutes. Let cool 15 minutes before serving.

“On the Edge” Teaser

K. and I are working on a short story for the anthology, Fraternal Devotion, at the moment. Twincest is one of our niche kinks that we enjoy writing, but don’t indulge in often. This anthology gave us a perfect opportunity to delve back into that niche. This is the story of fraternal twins Andrew and Ben, and I’m loving it so far.

—

The music was loud, fast, and the smell of sweat and booze wafted up from the dance floor to the upper catwalk. Below, a throng of men danced, limbs flailing in time with the hard beat. Blue, purple, and green laser lights panned back and forth over the dancers, strobe lights near the DJ booth creating an almost frightening mass of writhing bodies. From his vantage point, Andrew could easily pick out his brother in the center of the whole mess, half-naked, flushed, and rubbing between two men much bigger than himself. Another night of clubbing. Another night when Ben would party sober, and then drag Andrew’s wasted body home.

Andrew kicked back another shot of whiskey, and then pushed off the railing of the catwalk. He had to piss. Pushing his way through the crowd in the upper level, he tried to escape. The bathroom, rank with piss and come, was a welcome respite from the vision of Ben. He locked himself into the stall, pissed into the toilet, and then fished into his jeans pocket. His fingers closed around the baggies, and he pulled them out. In moments, he had swallowed another tablet of ecstasy and was looking around the stall. Damn the lack of flat surfaces. He flushed the toilet and stumbled out of the stall.

The countertop was wet. Quickly, he used wad of paper towels to sop it all up. Bone dry. He needed the counter bone-fucking-dry. As the base thundered below, Andrew laid out a line of coke. Careful. Had to be careful with the ecstasy and booze. Too much and he’d be dead before he hit the ground. He bent to the counter and snorted up the line, straightening as the sting spread through his nose, the rush flooding his brain. He stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes bright, drugged, and his nose red from all the rubbing. A laugh bubbled up inside him, half-crazed and drunken. But the beat of the music pounded through him, brought the vision of Ben into his mind, and he groaned.

Goddamn it! He closed his eyes, trying to erase the image of his twin dancing, wet with sweat, laughing and happy. It didn’t matter. Nothing he did changed it. Nothing he tried put out the fire he felt inside for Ben. Just thinking of Ben’s lips, curved and full and damp had him hard in his jeans, a desperate whine in his throat as he stumbled into the nearest stall. The room spun as he sprawled on the toilet, fumbled with the fly of his jeans. It wouldn’t help, either, but maybe… maybe this time it would be different. Maybe one indulgent moment of jacking off, drowning in all the intimate moments he had of his brother would put an end to the torment that had been dogging his steps since he turned fourteen.

Ben, young and scared, spread out across the bed in the room they shared. Ben, kissing him, whispering that it was all right. Ben, assuring him no one would know. Ben, moaning into his mouth as they touched, tasted each other. Ben—

“Andrew?”

In the middle of pumping his cock, Ben’s voice filtered through the din in his head. He panted, staring at the door of the stall. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, and he watched Ben’s shoes—he’d know those shoes anywhere—stop just outside his hiding place. Ben turned to face the stall door, and Andrew swore Ben knew what he was doing.

“Andrew.” Ben’s head thumped against the door. “Let me in.”

“Go away,” Andrew slurred. “Don’t need you yet.”

Ben was quiet a moment. “Yes, you do. Open the door.”

Andrew clenched his eyes shut, his head throbbing in time with the bass of the club, his cock hard, insistent, and his heart bleeding as desire rose inside him so potent as to choke him. “Ben, I can’t—”

“Open the goddamn door,” Ben hissed.

Diversity, More Of It!

Diversity. You would think, writing in the genre I do, that there would be quite a bit of it. Problem is, there just isn’t. In fact, when you step out of the expected mold, you tend to get thwacked in the head for changing it up. The books I see are a parade of white men, no religious affiliation, with decent jobs, good apartments/homes, and great one-dimensional friends who don’t do anything of interest. It’s really quite depressing. Sometimes, I see something that might pique my interest, but just reading the blurbs or glancing at the reviews puts me off.

It’s saved me a ton of money, but at the same time, it depresses me. We see a lot of readers calling for diversity, but I wonder if the sales hold true that it’s diversity that’s really wanted. I don’t know. So far, all my published works have been with white main characters. Some are Christian or they don’t declare their religion in the course of the book. I admit, I haven’t done much myself to further the cause of diversity. >.> I’ve promised myself to change that as soon as possible. I do have one interracial story brewing in my head, the full story of Malachi and Phinn from Breaking Point, but other than that…

We need more diversity. More people of color. More people of various religious backgrounds. More characters with disabilities–both physical and mental. More women. More trans* characters. More scope of employment. More financial backgrounds. More characters over the age of 25. More character who aren’t 6′ and 200 pounds ripped. We simply need more diversity in the fiction presented.

I love that Kasper was almost 40 in Catalyst. I love that Zach is on welfare and scraping by in Mae. I love that Hadi and Judas in The Keeper aren’t white. However, I know I need to up my game, bring more to the table than the occasional older man or impoverished main character. Hopefully, while I’m dragging my ass to get my current WIPs done, other authors will provide me with awesome reading material offering the diversity of color, class, religion, physicality, and gender I’m seeking!

Recipe Monday: Cheeseburger Sliders

I’m a sucker for two to three bite items. I like things I made on my indoor grill. I like things I can make in bulk, freeze, and save for a later day. These sliders are all those and more. They’re juicy and tender and absolutely delicious!

Ingredients

2lb ground sirloin or ground turkey (I prefer sirloin)

4TBSP good, whole fat mayonnaise

6 scallions, chopped finely (white AND green parts)

2TBSP Worcestershire sauce

12 bun package of Hawaiian sweet rolls

6 cheese singles, cut into quarters

salt and pepper

thinly sliced shallot

steak sauce

In a mixing bowl, combine room temperature ground meat, mayonnaise, scallions, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper. Don’t over mix, as it will make the meat tough. Portion out into 2oz burgers, making them rather thin, as they will tighten up as they cook. You don’t need any oil on your grill or in the pan, so just cook them until your desired doneness (I like my burgers well done).

At this point, you can pull them off, cool them, bag them, and freeze them for about three months. If you’re going to serve them immediately, place them all on a baking sheet, using two of the cheese quarters per burger, and bake in a 300F oven for about five minutes (until the cheese melts). Serve on the Hawaiian rolls with thinly sliced shallots and steak sauce. I love adding some lettuce and pickle to mine.

“Unwilling Compromise” Teaser

This is another teaser from a short in the Love & Agony collection. This is actually the first dubious consent piece K. and I ever wrote, and we know we want to tell Seth and Talon’s story in full in a novel, but that’s at the bottom of the to write pile. Still, readers can enjoy this glimpse at them!

—

Seth shivered in the corner of his cage. A cage. He was in a cage. He was in a cage, and he was naked. Everything had been taken from him. He was left with only a wide leather collar buckled around his throat, a D-ring at the front. In a matter of days, he’d been reduced to an animal. His sire had lost the city to the wolves, and now the vampires were nothing but animals in cages.

Hunger rolled through him. That was how they did it. A vampire could go a long, long time without feeding before true death ever came to him. Even after four days, Seth was parched, his veins like dry husks inside him. He looked at every passing human and wolf with desperation, hoping they’d remember him. But, they never looked. Never stopped. All he could do was sit in his cage, try to hide his nakedness, and wait for whatever ultimate sentence the alpha wolf would pass down.

A big, broad man—smelling of blood and wolf and sweat—stopped in front of his cage and crouched down. He grinned at Seth, all yellowed teeth and rotting breath. “Alpha is ready to see you,” he ground out. He held up a leather leash. “You going to be a good puppy? Heel and not bark or bite?”

Anger boiled up in Seth, his fangs sliding from their housings behind his incisors, and he hissed, exposing the dangerous teeth. “Fuck you.”

The wolf snarled. “You’re either a good puppy and do what you’re told, or you stay here until you’re nearly dead from hunger, and then we’ll drag your sorry, blood-sucking ass out of there and to the alpha.”

Seth almost preferred the latter option. At least then he wasn’t giving in. His sire would be ashamed if he gave in, but if he cooperated, maybe the wolves would offer mercy. Not that the vampires had ever offered a captured wolf mercy… and that was the bit of knowledge that held Seth back. The wolves wouldn’t be kind, just as the vampires had never been kind. The wolves had been powerful pets and disposable warriors. Now, it seemed, it was the vampires’ turn to be the disposable meat in the den.

“Tick-tock, puppy.” The wolf grinned again. “Make a choice.”

He didn’t have long to decide, and so Seth moved on instinct. He crawled close to the door of the cage and lifted his chin, exposing the ring on his collar. If he’d had enough blood in him, he would have blushed with the humiliation of the act, but as it was, his face remained pale, his eyes glaring daggers at the wolf.

“Good puppy,” the wolf rumbled. The leash was latched on through the cage, and then the wolf opened it, pulling the leash through, and then giving it a tug. “Heel!”

Seth bit back a yelp as he was yanked forward, and he thought to actually bite into the wolf’s heel. He dismissed it an instant later, not daring to do something so harsh in his current position, but it was still a thought he took pleasure in, if only for a moment. He crawled stiffly, inwardly embarrassed by his own lack of grace. After spending so much time curled up in that cage, his muscles refused to follow his commands at first. The wolf sneered at him, tugging him along with cruel jeers and the occasional slap of the leash loop to his bare ass.

Every word and gesture made him acutely aware of how exposed he was, how vulnerable to attack, and he had to force back the urge to cower every time another wolf passed. Even when they didn’t bother acknowledging him, it was humiliating to crawl and stumble his way after the wolf. Every movement ached, as if it pulled at skin already stretched far too tight over his blood-starved body. He concentrated on moving one hand in front of the other, his knees following on instinct as they moved from the common area down a long hallway. He vaguely recognized the path, and a chill raced through him as he heard the heavy doors of the Master’s old room open, sending a draft through his short, unkempt hair.

I Have Issues, I Know — Three of Them, In Fact

First and foremost: Happy Independence Day to my US readers! Enjoy your fireworks and pie and BBQ and day off, but be safe about it.

Now, onto the post…

I’m just going to come out with it: I see a lot of issues in fiction. Not drama-issues, but issues-issues. Tropes and stereotypes and recycled ideas that just make me less and less eager about buying books. I may be a writer, I may be a publisher, but I am first and foremost a reader. As a reader, I want to be happy. I want to be entertained. I want to be challenged. Now, my primary genre is GLBTQ erotic romance (and I do prefer writing gay romances, but don’t limit myself), and so this is the genre I am faced with most often.

Some of these things have been stewing in my brain for a while. This will be reminiscent of my Five M/M Genre Peeves, but not.

* I want to see less ‘eww, girl bits!’ and more ‘awesome, there’s a woman in my erotic fiction’. This on-going trend I see of negativity regarding the sexual inclusion of women in fiction that has two men being sexual has got to stop. I don’t read erotic romance to masturbate to, despite what mainstream media would like to think. When I watch porn, I either watch gay porn or lesbian porn or bisexual porn (not big into het porn, the road-kill orgasm faces they use are just creepy); key is, I watch porn when I want to get off. I read because I like stories, characters, awesome plots, and skilled writers. I can enjoy a va-jay-jay and appreciate its inclusion since, you know, women do account for 50% of the damn population of this world. Gay men feel erased in gay fiction? Guess what? I feel non-existent. Less of the ‘no girl cooties’ and more of the ‘let’s celebrate the many genders on this planet’, please.

* When I buy a novel proclaiming BDSM as being a serious part of the book, I want to read that book and recognize consent. You know, I can do without safe or sane, but consent is the cornerstone of BDSM. The rash of abuse and torture masquerading as BDSM at the moment—offset by the badly written flogging and TPEs (total power exchanges)—really bother me. I have absolutely no issue with dubious consent, rape fantasy, torture!porn, or any of it, but what I do take issue with is labeling it BDSM. Labeling it as such brings about certain expectations, and when you mislabel it (and do so proudly), you do a disservice to BDSM. I am a practitioner of BDSM in my real life. I am a submissive with an awesome Dom. It deeply disturbs me (as it has since my fandom days) to see rape, torture, abuse, and brainwashing being called BDSM and lauded as groundbreaking.

* I’d like to see less pooh-poohing over the happily ever after/happily for now endings that include a traditional ending of marriage and kids. I think it’s incredibly insulting that authors are told that marriage and children are unacceptable in gay romance/M/M romance. Gay men don’t want marriage? They don’t want children? Funny, I know dozens of gay men—and lesbians, as a matter of fact—whose HEA would include marriage, children, and equal rights under the law. I don’t understand. I find the same complaints in het romance, too. Let’s get rid of the women, and if we don’t, then she shouldn’t reproduce. I’m not saying a HEA should boil down to a ring and a shrieking small human, but sometimes, that’s the next step along that HEA path, and I’d like to see more of them. Balance, folks, it’s a wonderful state of being.

Not a huge post, but three main issues that have been nagging at me. I don’t know if the genre will change. I can only write and publish and use my dollar to make my desires heard. But, after hearing the feedback at gay pride this year, coupled with what I’ve digested from OutlantaCon, I think we need to stop writing the same things. We need to push the boundaries, test the limits, challenge our readers, but I think it needs to be done with some thought, a lot of planning, and a hell of a lot of respect.

Let’s celebrate the dark fantasies, the bright futures, and show diversity in gender, orientation, and race. I think it could make for a hell of a time.