C.C. Williams's Blog: Scribbles with C.C.
May 18, 2016
What an appropriate time to have this hop! I’m taking advantage of our current craziness to have a small rant this year as I typically avoid politics.
Between bathroom police, religious protection laws, and the most divided—not to mention, divisive—presidential primary in decades, it certainly appears that no one’s umbrella is big enough! All we seem to hear are variations of “Us” versus “Them,” and lots of Us are on the Them side of whomever is speaking.
While progress gets made in one area—say, marriage equality—we move backwards on others—read, for example, transgender bathroom rights. I mean where did this national emergency come from? Not a single instance of any transgender person ever bothering anybody anywhere. But we need to protect our children!! Never mind that Dennis Hastert coached children for years. Now, what’s really comic about these wardens of poo-poo privacy is that they would scream bloody murder about the invasion of privacy if someone were to question their “genital genuineness.”
Yet, these people are the first to claim infringement of their right to religious freedom when called out on their prejudiced actions. We are referred to as “perverted,” abnormal,” and lots of even more colorful things by trolls galore, yet to object to being name-called is to be “biased.” Pointing out their bigotry is being “intolerant of their opinions.” So, to protect their ability to discriminate they resort to religious freedom laws. Never mind that our infrastructure is crumbling, schools are failing, and government is at a standstill, we must save backwards, narrow-minded thought patterns from being influenced by progress.
And don’t even get me started on how thin-skinned people have become! Every minimally inconvenienced, slightly put-out nebbish is suddenly outraged about all the minor non-events that bother him! Whatever happened to suck it up and walk it off? The major problems we have—climate change, economic inequality—require serious discussion, yet people get riled by stupid stuff they blame on “Them”!
So who’s “Them”? White, black, brown, yellow; christian (Catholic, Presbyterian, Baptist, Unitarian, etc.), Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, Shinto, atheist; 1%ers, middle class, takers; straight, gay, queer, bi, questioning; male, female, trans, cis; and on and on and on. We’re each part of an Us and part of someone else’s Them—but we’re all people.
So, the next time someone starts spouting off about Them find something about Them that makes Them human. After all, humans are all of Us.
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Each of the participants is hosting a giveaway, so don’t miss out. I’m offering one winner a copy of my latest release, Those Grandville Guys, as well as one winner’s choice of two stories from my back list. To get entered, check out below:
April 16, 2016
Hey, everybody! Let’s get the weekend started with a Sexy Saturday snippet!
Since this week’s theme is “My Sexy Vacation” I chose to do a clip from my novella, Busting the Greenhorn. Jake is on vacation at a resort along the Russian River, when he garners the attention of one of the locals while sunbathing:
Silence fell, leaving only the murmuring of the river as it babbled over rocks and roots. The birds had stopped their chirping in the trees, and Jake heard rustling in the thick foliage along the watercourse. Tales of bears and other wild animals crossed his mind. He sat up and gave some thought to packing and leaving. The rustling grew louder; Jake heard actual snapping of branches. A dark figure moved out from the undergrowth; someone on a large horse trotted out of the bushes onto the sandy margin. In the gold afternoon sunlight the figure resolved into a man in a black Stetson. Seated atop a black stallion, he appeared to have ridden straight out of an old Zane Grey western. A faded blue chambray shirt and jeans completed the likeness. He reined in the horse and waved to Jake. “Howdy! Did you happen to see a golden retriever pass this way?” Removing his hat to wipe his forehead, he flashed a big white smile framed by a thick black mustache. The deepest blue eyes Jake had ever encountered sparkled in a handsome, tan face. The rider’s eyes held the writer’s gaze hostage with their intensity.
“N . . . no, no I haven’t,” Jake stammered out after a few seconds. He didn’t seem to be able to get his tongue to work right. He was trying not to stare but wasn’t having much luck—he couldn’t look away from the horseman.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your vacation, but my dog ran off.” The baritone richness of his smooth voice played counterpoint to the alto burbling of the nearby water. The man replaced the hat, adjusting its position. “He knows the way back to the ranch, though. If he sees you, he’ll probably come over to say hi.”
Jake swallowed past a lump in his throat, wishing the cowboy would come over. “If I do see him, I’ll tell him to go home. Good luck finding him.”
The horseman touched the brim of the Stetson. “Thanks, I appreciate it! See you ‘round.” He set his spurs to the horse and wheeled about to disappear back into the brush.
Jake fell back on the towel; his heartbeat thudded in his ears, galloping away of its own accord. For too long he’d been among starchy, corporate types and pale, technophile geeks; the horseman’s sheer, raw masculinity set his heart racing. The rancher had worn his shirt open; every time he had moved, the hairy cleft between his chest muscles had rippled, and Jake wanted to explore that valley. The horseman’s wind-burned face had been open and honest with deep-hewn laugh lines embracing his mouth. Lizard-skin boots and black, denim jeans spoke of a working man, not some weekend cowboy. He’d sat the horse comfortably, clearly in command of the large animal.
Yawning, Jake stretched and decided to go take a nap until cocktail time. There wasn’t any point becoming a lobster on his first day. As he climbed the bank to his cabin, he turned and glanced down to the riverside. Briefly he saw a black horse and rider moving back into the trees. Had his cowboy come back for another look? Jake hoped so.
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April 13, 2016
Hello, folks! Time for this Wednesday’s Mid Week Tease!
We continue with Ron and Charlie’s “tour” of the Alpha Gamma Pi fraternity from The Pledging:
“Joining a fraternity is joining a family.” Low and hypnotic, Jamal’s voice held his attention. “There’s a reason we’re called brothers—just like biological siblings, we’re alike in some ways and different in others. We’ll laugh, we’ll argue…” The coasting fingers had become stronger; Jamal pressed and massaged with his hand, as Charlie relaxed more and more into the caress. “We’ll fight, we’ll play…”
Doubt and fear still clamored in Charlie’s mind, but those apprehensions were quickly drowning in a rising tide of hormones. Christ! He wanted to feel something on his cock other than his own hand. Jacking off in the shower—unlike his dorm-mate, it bothered Charlie to masturbate with a non-participant in the room—was not good enough; orgasm dispelled the immediate craving, but did nothing to solve the problem—he was horny. And now, with a hot upperclassman half-naked and rubbing his back, why was he thinking all stupid and scared?
“But, most importantly, we’ll also love—which is my favorite part.” An arm followed the fingers and hand to lay across his shoulders, heavy with expectations.
Aww, fuck it, Charlie thought. He melted against the warm, firm body, wrapping himself into the embrace. Lips brushed his cheek, and he turned toward the fraternity brother. Jamal’s mouth was hot velvet against his skin, as the older boy traced along his jaw line to nuzzle beneath his ear. Wandering lower, Jamal moved aside Charlie’s shirt collar to ghost over his collarbone. The water bottle slipped from his grasp and thumped to the floor, forgotten.
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April 9, 2016
For today’s snippet I’ve chosen a little bit from my historical piece, The Greek Room.
The Earl’s manservant is just showing Christos to his new living quarters:
Christos’ head swam.
The suite of rooms was larger than his father’s entire house in Arpos. A sitting room furnished in heavy chintz pieces connected to a bedroom dominated by a four-poster bed; there was even an adjoining bathroom, gleaming with white tile. James set the tiny valise at the foot of the enormous bed. “This is the best bed in this wing.” He brushed at the counterpane. “Care to give it a tumble?”
Christos turned around; James stood close behind him. “Excuse me?”
The Englishman took his hat from his hand and tossed it onto a table. “I asked… if you’d… like… to fuck.” James’ hands settled on his shoulders, neither pushing nor pulling. This close to the servant, Christos realized a spicy scent, like cloves or cinnamon, hung about him.
“Wha—“Christos swallowed with difficulty. “Why would you ask that?”
“Why not? You’re a fine looking fellow. And you are Greek after all, aren’t you?” James’ fingers had found their way under his suit coat and were gliding over his chest. “Nice and solid, too—just like I like.”
Christos’ thoughts spun. Never had anyone approached him so brashly. He was adept at the dance of secret glances and small gestures that was the way of the tavernas; but to have a man—particularly one as handsome as James—offer sex directly sent him into a spiral. Fear and surprise struggled with a desire that had smoldered since he entered the manor house. Lust won.
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April 2, 2016
For MSS this week, it’s moving day for Max and Damien from my novella Side Effects:
Damien entered from the bedroom. “I’ve ordered the pizza, so you’re going to get paid. There’s soda in the fridge if you want some.” Jerry and Noah whooped and headed for the kitchen, hand in hand.
“It’s like they’re attached to each other.” He turned to me, wiping at something on my nose. “You’re dusty.”
I gave him a peck on the cheek. “You’re not so put together yourself.”
He struck a pose worthy of any GQ hunk. “I am the very picture of sartorial perfection.”
“For the long-term homeless maybe.” I brushed cobwebs out of his hair.
Damien grabbed my hand, wrapping me close in his arms. “Well, I’m not homeless now.”
I looked into those eyes—one green, one sexy hazel—and couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else. Our lips met.
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March 30, 2016
Welcome to Wednesday! It’s time for a Mid Week Tease!
Last post we had a clip of The Pledging from Ron’s point of view. This week we join the action from where Charlie is sitting:
Charlie’s heart raced so quickly he thought he might faint.
He could feel the sex radiating off Jamal like heat from a furnace, and the cologne was just like Kevin’s—sharp and spicy, it went straight to his brain stem. He was so hard it hurt and—goddamn, he wanted to get off.
But just as much he wanted to run.
He knew he talked a good game—loud and confident, when he needed it—but this was different. He’d never had sex with anyone but Kevin. Sure, they’d tried some kinky stuff—ropes and wax mostly—but it had only ever been Kevin, whom he’d known for as long as he could remember.
He knew what Jamal was offering to him, to both of them. But he knew he would say or do something stupid, something to humiliate himself or worse to embarrass Ron. He couldn’t move for fear of betraying his lack of experience.
Jamal continued, his voice soft and easy. “I heard Jake give his ‘The fraternity is all about support’ speech.” A hand ghosted across Charlie’s back, and he flinched, but Jamal seemed not to notice. “Now I know we like quality pledges, and I’m all for support, but that’s not everything that Alpha Gamma Pi is about.”
The hand returned, and Charlie didn’t jump. More definite this time, the fingers coasted along his spine, stopping here and there to rub at a particularly rigid spot. He began to unwind. Maybe it won’t be too bad. Without moving his head, he glanced sideways. Jamal lay back, his legs splayed out and a large bulge distended his cargo shorts. Ron had nestled into the corner of the sofa, his head thrown back and his right leg against Jamal’s left. Ron’s hand stroked up and down the fraternity brother’s thigh. Even with Ron’s tan, his skin was pale against Jamal’s
Charlie’s cock got harder still.
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March 29, 2016
Be sure to stop by Chelsea Crumbaugh’s M/M Romance event on Facebook! There are ten of us posted today with 10 more tomorrow.
Grab the opportunity to find someone new to read and play along for some cool prizes.
See you there!
March 27, 2016
Today for WeWriWa we have another piece from my swords and sorcery romance, Radiq:
The noon sun beat upon Radiq’s shoulders, flattening his resolve like a slug of iron upon an anvil. As much as he wanted to, there was little the warrior turned ambassador could do to delay the inevitable approach to the Guild House—the streets of Thal Qedoq were nearly empty, the city’s inhabitants having escaped indoors away from the broiling heat. His mission was simple: He need only meet with the Red Guild Master and secure his assistance—for surely the greatest mage in the eastern world would readily know the location of a crown lost for three millennia?
Radiq snorted at the ludicrousness of that thought. His real concern should be avoiding an encounter with Marron—his brother would unquestionably want to pick up the fight where Radiq had dropped it ten years ago—and Radiq had no time to spare on Marron’s ambition and self-justification.
Laying further consideration of his brother’s errors aside as unproductive, Radiq turned his horse onto Qed Harraq, the great thoroughfare that ran straight as a lance to the gates of the Guild House. The First Sword of Thessalia reined Jessel to a halt within the deep shadows of the great entrance. His nerves crawled with the sense of being watched; that discomfort angered him, and he called out sharply to the guardhouse, “Make way for the envoy of Crown Prince Vadim, heir to the throne of Thal Thessaly!”
“We know who you are, Radiq, son of Thorrim,” replied a voice from the shadowed gate house, “and we know why you have come.”
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March 26, 2016
For MSS this week I decided to take a walk down memory lane with one of my favorite stories, Giant Killer. This short is my re-telling of the biblical story of Jonathan and David (with a walk on by Goliath):
David lifted the pitcher, glad for the clean scent that cut through the coppery tang from the gore-sodden tunic at his feet. Water sloshed out of the basin as his hand shook. Wetting a rag, he began to wipe dully at the brownish stains on his hands and arms.
Unexpectedly Jonathan was there, taking charge of the cloth. Deep furrows split his forehead as he considered David. Softly, he began to wipe the dried blood from David’s face. “You were very brave.”
David wanted to look into those hazel eyes forever. He raised a hand to Jonathan’s brow, seeking to smooth away the worry lines. “I did it so you wouldn’t have to.” Some mix of thoughts and emotions played across Jonathan’s face.
Jonathan ran a knuckle along his jaw, and a cool fire burned his skin in the wake of that touch. Then Jonathan’s mouth was on his, and David drowned in the flavors of honey and wine and the cloves that Jonathan loved to chew. Lush and insistent, their tongues met and played, tasting each other’s passion.
David wrapped his arms around Jonathan, willing himself closer still to the soldier. His hands roamed, exploring the expanse of firm, muscular frame. Jonathan’s hands, rough and callused, gently cradled his head as their mouths continued to duel. Suddenly Jonathan swept him up, lifting him clear of the floor, and laid him unto the larger bed.
He remembered he was naked, still speckled with blood. “Jonathan—”
“Shhh, be calm!” The soldier poured fresh water and continued to bathe him, gently wiping away the day’s horror. Once David lay clean and fresh, Jonathan pulled off his own tunic to stand boldly, yet somehow reserved, at the bed side.
Giant Killer appears as 1000 B.C. in the ManLoveRomance Press collection, Lust in Time, edited by the wonderful Rob Rosen.
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March 16, 2016
Welcome to this week’s Mid Week Tease!
Continuing a tour of the WIP pile brings us to The Pledging, a contemporary college romance with interesting bits, which is in that difficult stage of first draft edits. This clip finds our protagonists Ron and Charlie having a private tour of the Alpha Gamma Pi workout building:
“Sit, relax!” As Jamal walked toward the fridge, he pulled off his shirt in one fluid motion, tossing it aside on a chair. “We’ve got water—bubbly or flat—juice, soda. No liquor is allowed down here, so it’s all virgin—present company excluded, that is!” Again that wonderful laugh.
Ron knew he was staring, but he couldn’t look away—Jamal had broad shoulders, an incredibly slim waist and not an ounce of fat. Textbook definition on the fraternity brother’s back made Ron want to run his fingers along each of the clearly visible muscle groups. They flexed and relaxed, dancing under Jamal’s skin, as he rummaged around for drinks. “What’ll it be, dudes?”
“Water,” Ron managed to croak; his fingers weren’t the only thing that wanted to play with the half-naked brother. He glanced over at Charlie who was clearly trying to look anywhere but at Jamal. “Definitely water.”
“H two O, it is.” With three sweating bottles, the AGP brother returned to the sofa and handed out the water. When he flopped down between Ron and Charlie, a tangy scent wafted around him. Patchouli, Ron thought, and he had to squirm to get more comfortable; he twisted a little to lean against the arm of the sofa, trying to seem casual and still disguise the growing bulge in his pants.
On the other side Charlie sat ramrod straight, his hands clasping the unopened bottle in his lap. He perched on the edge of the sofa like he were in church—or on trial. He always seemed so self-possessed—he was out, proud and didn’t take shit from anybody—why would he be nervous now? Ron wondered at that.
A sharp crackle made Ron jump. Jamal was rubbing himself with the cool water bottle; some of the condensation had beaded in the curly hairs scattered across his equally magnificent chest. Two silver bars pierced his nipples. Ron’s pants had definitely gotten too tight.
“I wanted us to have some quiet time.” Jamal crushed the plastic bottle and tossed it into the nearby recycling bin. “You know, to answer any questions you might have.” His glance slid between them as his arms settled across the back of the sofa. “To get to know you guys better.”
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