Rick R. Reed's Blog, page 52

COVER REVEAL: WEREWOLF’S TALE AND A DRUID’S SWORD by Lexi Ander

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Lexi Ander reveals the beautiful cover art of her next book titled WEREWOLF’S TALE AND A DRUID’S SWORD coming out from Less Than Three Press.
It releases on August 31, 2016.
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BLURB
After he's kicked out for being gay, still reeling from being abandoned by the man he loves, Jude goes to live with his brother Beck, who thankfully is more than happy to take him in. But Jude has other secrets he's yet to share, for fear that even Beck will reject him, leaving him well and truly alone.Then he draws the attention of werewolves, and discovers that everything he thought he knew about Levi, the man who abandoned him, is a lie. But one lie leads to another, ending in a vast conspiracy that threatens to destroy everything Jude loves—and that doesn't even begin to include the challenges that Beck is facing.
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PRESENTING
Cover Art by Aisha Akeju

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TEASER
If fairytale beings walked the earth and there were humans who had extraordinary abilities, then what he saw could be something along those lines. Perhaps he wasn't such a freak. Could there be a place for him where people believed him, where he could fit in? Even though he was reticent to share that part of himself, Jude did want to tell Beck and Diego, but how did he prove something no one else could see? 
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.
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DON'T JUMP! An Excerpt from BIG LOVE

Big Love is about accepting yourself for who you are. And that lesson can be very, very hard-won, especially for those of us who are “different.” This scene illustrates how hopeless that acceptance can seem:
“He’s up there!” Betsy pointed to Truman on the roof ledge, her voice high with hysteria. “You have to do something, Dane!”
Dane peered up, squinting. For a moment he could see nothing. Although the day was bitter cold, with the temperature in the single digits and, with the wind chill factored in, most likely below zero, the sun was blinding and bright. The sky was a brilliant cerulean blue. The anxiousness and terror in Betsy’s voice ramped up his own terror, making him feel like an animal being plunged into nightmare.
Quickly, his eyes adjusted to the sun’s glare, and he could make out a silhouette on top of one of the two towers that fronted the school, one on either side, like a castle. A small figure with its legs dangling casually over the ledge flung Dane’s heart into his throat. Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered desperately to Betsy, “Who is it?”
“It’s Truman Reid.”
“Oh God. Of course it is.” Dane flashed back to only a short time ago and what he had witnessed on the school’s central bulletin board. He must have seen. The kid was desperate. Dane recollected that it seemed like almost every week, maybe even every day, the boy was the punching bag for a bully, the butt of a joke, or a target for derision. Dane tried to step in when he could, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once. With staff cutbacks and growing class sizes, it had become harder and harder for Dane to concentrate on individual students, no matter how compassionate he wanted to be or how much they needed him.
And today, right now, Truman Reid needed someone.
He let out a shuddering breath and reached for Betsy’s hand, clutching it for a moment and squeezing for courage. “What do I say to him? What do I say?” Dane felt on the verge of tears. There was a quivering in his gut that made him feel dizzy, as though it were he and not the boy dangling over the edge of that rooftop. His next few words could, quite literally, mean the difference between life and death.
Betsy Wagner, teacher of social studies and human sexuality, could be relied upon for her well of knowledge in a desperate situation. She leaned in and whispered, “Hell if I know.”
Dane turned away from Truman for a moment to glare at her.
“But you’ll think of something. All the kids trust you,” she said, and Dane was sure the smile she gave him was meant to be reassuring, if not inspiring.
Like Truman, Dane once again found himself alone. Betsy stepped back and away from him, presumably to give him more space to conjure up just the right words, the magic speech that would coerce the kid into swinging his legs back slowly off the ledge and then to retrace his steps back inside the school, where he could get the help he needed.
Dane put a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. “Truman?” he yelled. “Truman? Can I just talk to you, man?”
A shadow fell across the ground to Dane’s left as someone stepped up next to him. He turned quickly and saw it was Seth Wolcott, the new teacher. Seth’s hazel eyes, behind his glasses, seemed darker with concern. He handed Dane a bullhorn. “We had this in the theater department. Thought you could use it.” Seth clamped a hand on Dane’s shoulder and squeezed. The simple touch gave Dane courage.Dane lifted the bullhorn to his mouth, grateful for the amplification. He only hoped he could hear if and when Truman responded.
“Truman?” he repeated. “I just want to talk to you. Okay?” He glanced behind him, stunned to see a massive crowd had formed. It appeared the whole school stood outside now, behind him. It was both a comfort, a horror, and eerie, because there was no sound from any of them. Dane hadn’t even heard them assemble.
He whispered to Seth, “Has anyone called 911?” Dane longed for official help. He also feared it—the sound of a siren could startle poor Truman right off the roof.
Seth answered, “Betsy called a few minutes ago from her cell. Someone should be here soon.”
For now, though, silence prevailed. Dane lifted the bullhorn to his lips once more. “Listen, son, whatever’s got you up there is something bad. I’m not gonna kid around with you or insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise. Life has dealt you a raw hand, and that really sucks.”
Oh God. This is terrible. I can’t make this speech. I can’t. Where are all the wise words from the books I teach?
Dane drew in a quivering breath and called up, “But whatever it is, the one thing I know, and I think you know too, deep in your heart, is that nothing stays the same. Nothing, Truman. There’s no one on God’s green earth who can say what’s gonna happen tomorrow. Or even a few minutes from now. We just don’t know.” Dane looked up at the boy’s silhouette, unmoving, above. Was he getting through at all?“Truman? Can you just throw me a bone and let me know that you hear me, son?”
Dane waited, figuring he’d give the boy some space in which to reply. The wait seemed to go on for hours, when Dane’s rational mind told him it was only seconds until he heard the boy’s high and thin voice filter down.
“I hear you.”
Dane shut his eyes for a moment, feeling immense gratitude for such a small gift. “I’m glad you can hear. But can you listen?”
“I’m not going anywhere… yet,” Truman called down.
Dane was relieved to see the tiny trace of humor in his response. Gallows humor, but it was better than nothing.
“Then listen to me. What you’re thinking of is an end. There’ll be no coming back. What you’re doing is taking hope out of the equation. What you’d be doing, if you jump or even accidentally slide off that roof, is removing any chance at all for things getting better.”
“They always say ‘It gets better,’ but they lie,” Truman screamed. “Nothing ever changes!”
“Truman, you’re too young to be so pessimistic. Everythingchanges. Constantly. Whether we want it to or not. Things go from bad to worse, from good to better, and everywhere in between. And most of the time, none of it makes sense.”
BLURBTeacher Dane Bernard is a gentle giant, loved by all at Summitville High School. He has a beautiful wife, two kids, and an easy rapport with staff and students alike. But Dane has a secret, one he expects to keep hidden for the rest of his life—he’s gay.
But when he loses his wife, Dane finally confronts his attraction to men. And a new teacher, Seth Wolcott, immediately catches his eye. Seth himself is starting over, licking his wounds from a breakup. The last thing Seth wants is another relationship—but when he spies Dane on his first day at Summitville High, his attraction is immediate and electric.
As the two men enter into a dance of discovery and new love, they’re called upon to come to the aid of bullied gay student Truman Reid. Truman is out and proud, which not everyone at his small-town high school approves of. As the two men work to help Truman ignore the bullies and love himself without reservation, they all learn life-changing lessons about coming out, coming to terms, acceptance, heartbreak, and falling in love.
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Exclusive Excerpt: The Hardest Part About Being an Escort: A Taste of A DANGEROUS GAME

It’s all fun and games in the escort business until someone gets hurt, or falls in love. Here’s what happened to one of the escorts in   A Dangerous Game .


BLURB
Sex can be a dangerous business. So can love.
On the worst day of his life, Wren Gallagher wants oblivion when he steps into Tricks for a drink. When a mysterious stranger steps up to pay his tab, he offers Wren the key to fulfilling his dreams of prosperity and true love.
But appearances are not always what they seem.
His savior owns the escort agency À Louer, and he wants the young and handsome Wren as part of his stable of men-for-hire. Down on his luck, Wren figures, why not? He needs the money. When he joins, though, he doesn’t count on meeting Rufus, another escort with whom he falls hopelessly in love.
But their love story will have to overcome the obstacles of not only trading love for money, but À Louer’s dark—and deadly—secrets.
1st Edition published as Rent by ManLove Romance Press, 2012.
EXCERPT
During this time together Evan realized he had done the unthinkable and crossed the line he had been told, not only by Dave but by other escorts, that he should never cross—he had fallen in love.

The words, as they lay side by side in Dan’s king-size bed, slipped out of him just before they drifted off into slumber. “I love you,” Evan whispered huskily into the darkness, wishing, as soon as the words had escaped his mouth, that he could take them back. In what world, Evan had wondered, was it appropriate for a prostitute to say such a thing to a client? He lay still, feeling heat rise to his face, waiting for Dan to tell him he’d better go, that he would call him a cab.

But that wasn’t what had happened. Dan had risen up on one arm to gaze down upon him in the wan light afforded by a crescent moon shining in through the window. Evan couldn’t bear to look at him, certain Dan’s face would reveal disappointment, ridicule, anger, disbelief.

He never imagined that Dan would be smiling—and not in a mocking way. When he allowed himself to look, Evan could have sworn his heart leaped into his throat, because even in the darkness he could see Dan was happy, yes, maybe even a little thrilled, with his admission.
Dan reached out to run a hand across the smooth expanse of Evan’s chest, then leaned down and kissed him, his lips a soft counterpoint to the rough stubble scratching against Evan’s smooth face.

Dan pulled away and, gently stroking Evan’s cheek, said, “I love you too. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but there it is. I wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t spoken first, but I do believe, Mr. Maple, I have felt this way from the very first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Me too,” Evan whispered, hot tears of joy gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“You were not the first escort I hired, but I do believe you’ll be the last.”

Evan could see in his mind’s eye the enraged and disapproving glance of Davidson Chillingsworth as he let even more unwise words slip from his lips. “Oh, Dan, I could never charge you. Not again. Not with what we know.”

Evan, who was all of twenty-four, had yet to experience real love in his young life, and his mind flooded with fantasies about a future with Dan, leaving his escort days behind him, becoming a couple.

Now Evan took a sip from the latest drink the bartender set before him and shook his head, remembering how quickly Dan dashed those fantasies.

Dan had slowly made circles around each of Evan’s nipples with his forefinger, at last letting out a long sigh. He spoke. “Yes, you will charge me. Because what we have here is what fits.”

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We Need Pride More than Ever: Some Positive Affirmations on Orlando

“This is a sobering reminder that attacks on any American — regardless of race, ethnicity, religion or sexual orientation — is an attack on all of us and on the fundamental values of equality and dignity that define us as a country. And no act of hate or terror will ever change who we are or the values that make us Americans.”--President Barack Obama 

We need pride more than ever.

I know that love surrounds us, is within us, and is us.

I know that the joy of human connection will always overcome hate.

I know that an open heart is infinitely stronger than a closed one.

I know that a gentle touch with an open hand will always resonate more strongly than a closed fist.

I know that we are all one--a spirit that's alive and perfect.

I know that our similarities define us way more than our differences.

I know that we will heal and emerge stronger.

I know that hate is never the solution, only the problem.

I know that love is at our core.

I know...love heals every one and everything

I say these words two days after the massacre of my brothers and sisters in Orlando, FL. I hope that by directing my thoughts toward the good, toward the positive, toward love, toward grace...will help myself and others heal.

FLASHBACK FRIDAY: OBSESSED, My First Book!

Here's a very positive review (5 Stars and a Top Pick!) for OBSESSED from Night Owl Reviews. In part, Lilyraines, reviewer said:

"A portion of that feeling stems from the fact that I am picky with the horror I read and pickier still with what would stay on my "keeper" shelf... Obsessed fits into that category.a story that I found difficult to put down..."

BLURB
I kill, therefore I am…

Voices slam through the corridor of his wounded mind. The words of his dead sister cry out. His parents' taunts fill the silent room where he sits and waits--waits for the murderous rage, filling him with strength, driving him to kill, to touch the cold flesh, taste the warm blood--to feel alive again… A witness has seen him, but his killing only turns her on and now she wants to protect him. His wife suspects him, but the private detective she hired cannot stop him. Joe MacAree fears nothing--except that he may no longer be human. The thirst that drives him is relentless, moving deeper and deeper into his own shattering, private realm, where each murder is a delicious new gift of life, where revulsion is beauty, and the obsession will never let him go.

"A harrowing ride through cutting-edge psychological horror, this one's got a vicious bite. Rick R. Reed's Obsessed is a twisted nightmare." - Douglas Clegg, bestselling author

Read the whole review here.

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Coming Out of the Closet is Never Easy: BIG LOVE

Big Love has a tagline on the cover, “Coming out of the closet is never easy.” Although I’ve written many, many gay-themed stories, I don’t know if I’m sure I’ve ever tackled coming out as directly as in this one.
You can read Big Love  (and I hope you will!) if you want to travel the tears- and laughter-strewn path of the coming out process of my main characters, but I wanted, in this post, to share a little bit about my own coming out, some of which mirrors the process of my characters Dane and Truman in the book.
Remember—knowing you’re gay isn’t the same as accepting you’re gay. I might have known I was gay when this picture was snapped, but I certainly gave it no credence.
That's me at about age seven at the party my father’s workplace held for employees’ kids every Christmas. It would not be the last time I would sit on a burly-bearded guy’s lap, but let’s keep this sweet and simple. Even then I was fastidious about my appearance and like to think that my bowtie, V-neck sweater, and Chukka boots would look good even today. As a gay child, I knew even then that classics never go out of style.
I was pretty happy when that picture was taken, but with the advent of adolescence, the bad stuff was in full swing. I was a very troubled young man, at best called a sissy (or fag, queer, homo) and tormented verbally by classmates and, at worst, physically bullied for sport (just like Truman in Big Love ). Like the song goes, I was always the last chosen when choosing sides for basketball. I had no friends. I spent my time with my baby sister, walking her around the neighborhood in her stroller. How I loved that little girl! She was my salvation without even knowing it. Unfortunately, a little boy pushing a stroller around back in the early 70s only added to the abuse for my being “different.” Back then, I had no self-esteem and could only cast my tormentors as right in their abuse—after all, deep inside I knew was some kind of freak. This is when the self-loathing started and I retreated deep into the closet, thinking and praying for deliverance from being “that way.”
I remained hidden and tormented until I went away to college, to Miami University, where I could not only fulfill the dream of sharpening my craft as a writer, but where I could cast off the shackles of being derided as a sissy and someone only worthy of being punched as I stood in line for lunch in the school cafeteria. Because I chose a school where almost no one else in my class went (save for an overly bright girl, who had been tormented as much as I), I could recast myself as one of the guys, a blessedly straight boy…and I was able to fool most everyone. I wonder now if I was naïve in thinking my dark secrets were as hidden as I believed.
University was where I met and fell in love—with a woman. We were engaged; we got married. We had a wonderful sex life (when I could make myself believe I wasn’t passing some sort of test or that I was pretending); we had a child. Through all those years, I was deep, deep in the closet, wearing the thickest of masks, so thick I could barely breathe. But I weathered the storms of self-doubt, of recrimination, or terror, telling myself, throughout a decade, that if I played the part long enough, I would become the character I thought I should be (much as Dane does in Big Love ).
But that gay guy inside me would not rest until I paid him heed. The harder I fought to be someone I wasn’t, the harder the gay part of me fought back. It came to a point where I realized that no one in my life—not family, not friends, not my wife, not my child—loved me for me. Because no one knew who I was.
It became a matter of living a lie and watching my soul, my very essence, shrivel up and die, or make a choice—a choice that, as time went on, became more and more unavoidable. Finally, at age 30, I had to lay down the shield and the sword and stop fighting.
With the help of a therapist, I stepped cautiously out of the closet. I was so scared, I leapt at the first cute guy who smiled at me and we were living together within a few months, causing, in part, a contentious divorce and custody battle. At age 30, my face of gay was out of the closet, but still yet unfulfilled.
See, I never had an adolescence, that experience most people go through when they try on different personas, play the field, experiment with life to see who they really are and what suits them.
My adolescence came way too late, in my mid 30s and early 40s. I plead the fifth on those years, but let’s just say there was a great deal of experimentation and pushing the gay envelope. I tried everything (and everyone) at least once.
My face of gay in my 40s was accepting, but unloved. I went through many relationships, some as long as two years, others lasting only minutes. Some of those affairs were conducted in only seconds, on a crowded Chicago el train, spoken with the eloquence of the eyes.
It wasn’t until I had given up on love and accepted me for me that I found true love. And that’s my face of gay today, with someone I am now proud to call husband, legal in all 50 states.
Because at this point, being out and being gay is all about one word: family.
BLURB Teacher Dane Bernard is a gentle giant, loved by all at Summitville High School. He has a beautiful wife, two kids, and an easy rapport with staff and students alike. But Dane has a secret, one he expects to keep hidden for the rest of his life—he’s gay.
But when he loses his wife, Dane finally confronts his attraction to men. And a new teacher, Seth Wolcott, immediately catches his eye. Seth himself is starting over, licking his wounds from a breakup. The last thing Seth wants is another relationship—but when he spies Dane on his first day at Summitville High, his attraction is immediate and electric.
As the two men enter into a dance of discovery and new love, they’re called upon to come to the aid of bullied gay student Truman Reid. Truman is out and proud, which not everyone at his small-town high school approves of. As the two men work to help Truman ignore the bullies and love himself without reservation, they all learn life-changing lessons about coming out, coming to terms, acceptance, heartbreak, and falling in love.

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All Romance
This post originally appeared at Prism Book Alliance.

BLOG TOUR: Lane Hayes Stops by to Talk About A KIND OF ROMANCE

TITLE: A Kind of Romance
SERIES: A Kind of Story 

AUTHOR: Lane Hayes 

COVER ARTIST: Aaron Anderson 

LENGTH: 82,963 words 

RELEASE DATE: June 06, 2016 

BLURB: Zeke Gulden is a ruthless Wall Street exec. His hard-edged, no-nonsense attitude has served him well in the cutthroat business world, but less so in his personal life. When he finds out his ex-boyfriend cheated on him with a coworker, Zeke can’t let go—not until he finds a way to get even. However, his meddlesome father has other ideas. The new hire at the family-owned bagel store is somewhat colorful, but his dad is sure he’s the perfect man for Zeke. 

Benny Ruggieri is a fiercely proud New Yorker who dreams of making it big as a costume designer in the theater. In the meantime, he’s working two part-time jobs in the food biz. When his new boss sets him up with his successful son, Benny has zero expectations. If nothing else, he figures he can entertain himself by making the uptight businessman squirm. Instead, the two become unlikely friends with an inexplicable attraction they can’t ignore. Benny might be the one to help Zeke set aside his quest for revenge, if he’s willing to let go and forgive what he can’t forget… and give in to an unexpected kind of romance. 


  

He narrowed his eyes and hummed softly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I want to kiss you again,” said someone who sounded like me.

Surprise and pleasure flitted across his lovely face. He gave me a crooked smile that slowly blossomed into a gorgeous megawatt grin I couldn’t help returning. I moved toward him and raised a tentative hand to cup his chin. This wasn’t a dare or a trick. This moment in the moonlight wasn’t orchestrated. It simply was. I could take it or leave it. His gaze was steady. I had a sudden notion I was looking into the eyes of an old soul. The shirt, the hair, and the eyeliner were surface affectations, designed to fool the casual observer so he could hide in plain sight without ever truly giving himself away. I smoothed my thumb over his bottom lip and then bent to kiss him.

It was a featherlight connection. A mere touch. Until he licked the corner of my mouth. I crushed him against me and drove my tongue between his lips. He tasted like honey and sunshine and something I’d always wanted but didn’t have the name for. I ran my fingers through his hair and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, loving the feel of his small body and sure hands on my back and over my ass.

The city moved around us but time stood still. I was lost in the kiss in a way I hadn’t been since I was a teenager groping with the new hire in the alley outside Bowery Bagels. But this was different. Benny felt familiar somehow… like I’d known him for years. It wasn’t déjà vu, though. It was more like coming home.

A honking horn broke the spell a moment later.

Benny took a deep breath and took a step backward. “There’s my ride. I’ll see you round.”

“Wait!” I grabbed his elbow to stop him. “I—uh… bowling. Call me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You call me. And if you change your mind, it’s fine,” he repeated as he reached for the car door. “See ya, Zeke.”

I watched the car pull away from the curb before heading home. As I walked up the mostly deserted street, I felt a lightness I hadn’t felt in years. My thoughts were carefree. I didn’t mull over work or family. I didn’t feel the weighted burden of responsibility or the intense desire to prove myself. I was in the moment. And it felt good.




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Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to a well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles both be men! Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her first novel was a finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Awards and her third received an Honorable Mention in the 2014 Rainbow Awards. She loves travel, chocolate, and wine (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and the coolest yellow lab ever in an almost empty nest.
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The Novel Approach

A DANGEROUS GAME Releases Today!

A Dangerous Game , my rent boy romance/thriller is officially out today. Read on for more details. And isn't the cover art (by Reese Dante) gorgeous?
BLURB
Sex can be a dangerous business. So can love.
On the worst day of his life, Wren Gallagher wants oblivion when he steps into Tricks for a drink. When a mysterious stranger steps up to pay his tab, he offers Wren the key to fulfilling his dreams of prosperity and true love.
But appearances are not always what they seem.
His savior owns the escort agency À Louer, and he wants the young and handsome Wren as part of his stable of men-for-hire. Down on his luck, Wren figures, why not? He needs the money. When he joins, though, he doesn’t count on meeting Rufus, another escort with whom he falls hopelessly in love.
But their love story will have to overcome the obstacles of not only trading love for money, but À Louer’s dark—and deadly—secrets.
1st Edition published as Rent by ManLove Romance Press, 2012.
EXCERPTDevin’s apartment looked as though a set designer for a modern-day Boys in the Band had decorated it. It couldn’t have been gayer if it had rainbow-hued hardwood planks installed on the floor, a touch Wren would keep to himself because he was afraid Devin might actually implement it.

Wren set down the duffel bag he had brought and surveyed the small but orderly space. As promised, Devin had left a key with the building manager, and Wren was grateful for the arrangement, glad Devin wasn’t home to greet him.

It was nice to have some time alone before Devin’s innuendos, roaming fingers, Listerine-scented tongue, and eight-inch dick began trying to probe him. It was nice to simply sit for a minute and rest. He plopped down on the couch, noting the neatly stacked copies of the Advocate and Architectural Digest on the glass-topped coffee table, the framed Herb Ritts and Robert Mapplethorpe posters on the wall, the latter of which were triple X-rated and caused Wren’s heart to beat faster. He took in the leopard faux-fur print rug on the floor, the black leather sofa on which he now reclined, and the sterile-looking stainless, granite, and melamine kitchen beyond a breakfast bar decorated with dolls all tricked out in leather drag.

“There’s no place like home,” Wren said. He allowed himself to lean back into the soft leather cushions for a bit, closing his eyes. The last few days had been so stressful. He let his hand loll along the surface of the leather, and his forefinger caught on something cotton and elastic. He looked over, giving a tug, and extracted a jockstrap, sticky with dried come, just about concealed between the cushions.

“Toto,” Wren said, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” He stood to go wash his hands, already wondering if he wouldn’t be better off on a park bench along the lakefront or, if it was raining, Lower Wacker Drive. He dropped the offending athletic supporter in a hamper in the bathroom and thoroughly scrubbed his hands. 

What had he gotten himself into?


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Armistead Maupin & Me

When I think of Armistead Maupin, the first image that comes to mind is not San Francisco, nor is it a mustachioed charmer with mad storytelling skills.

No, when I think of Armistead Maupin, I think of a skinny young man in his early 20s on an L train in Chicago, devouring all of the Tales of the City books. That skinny young man, with his dark feathered hair and his own mustache was me. If you had seen him on one of those trains back in the day, you probably would have had a hard time making eye contact, because my head was bowed in both reverence and fascination, living in my head the fabulous, friendly, and dangerous lives of the residents of 28 Barbary Lane.

Sure, the Tales of the City series of books was a triumph of pulp culture, a nostalgic and really innocent marker of times-gone-by. The books were entertaining, funny, and touching, because they were about people whom we could truly love living out far-fetched, often soap-operatic situations. We cared about Maryann, Mouse, and Mona because they were real...and we were hungry to see them thrive and find love in a confused and confusing world.

But I loved the Tales of the City books especially back in the early 1980s because to me they
represented a kind of utopia for a young man who was hiding so desperately in the closet. Those books were an escape hatch into a world populated by love and acceptance, things I thought were out of my reach as someone who was was different, as someone who deepest self was buried under equal heaps of shame and self-loathing.

That young man, engaged to be married and barely breathing through a mask he believed he could never remove, found salvation, hope, and redemption in the denizens of 28 Barbary Lane. He found a world where you could have friends, lovers, and acceptance not only despite being different, but also because of it.

It was a rare and wondrous thing and to the shy young man in that time, the books almost seemed like fantasy. But it was nice to live in that world for a while, to let loose of my fears and inhibitions and live vicariously through Maupin's characters, people I longed to know, but could never allow myself the freedom to do so.

Those books take me right back to that time, a time of bittersweet innocence, angst, and often uncomfortable growth. I didn't know it at the time, but they were lighting a future path for me, one that showed me that being different didn't mean I had to turn away from love. One that showed me I could not only accept myself for exactly who I was, but celebrate it.

So, maybe I'll roll a joint tonight, and open the very first book and start all over again. And I'll savor those who came before me and showed me the way...

New and Notable: SEND LAWYERS, GUNS, AND ROSES by Heloise West

Today, Heloise West drops by to tell us a bit about her incredible new book, Send Lawyers, Guns, and Roses . It's the second novel in the Heart and Haven series released April 19, 2016. This is the sequel to Hitting Black Ice (Loose Id, 12/2014)
All Alex and Hunter want now is a little peace and quiet…
Send Lawyers, Guns, and Roses #2
BLURBWhen Hunter and Alex (formally Shawn) are given the vacation of a lifetime, it’s a chance for them to pay attention to romance and get out of the path of danger. The tiny Caribbean island of Saba is gorgeous, the first to have marriage equality, and the Sabans are the nicest people on earth.
There’s lots of rum poolside for relaxing and a room with a mirror on the ceiling for passion. Hot karaoke nights, cold beer, and new friends. 
Their new friends Orfeo and Max, and Max’s sister Talisha, share a troubling secret. Alex and Hunter want to help. As a hurricane bears down on them, a dead body surfaces, and a purple backpack loaded with stolen jewels leads a pair of dangerous men to the island.
Alex would rather poke his own eyes out with a pointy stick than call on his old enemy Nick Truman for help; he’d also do anything to keep Hunter out of danger. But even his nemesis can’t reach them now.
Once again, they only have each other to depend on as their paradise is about to become hell on earth.
Hitting Black Ice #1ER physician's assistant Hunter guards his heart carefully, but that doesn't stop him from falling for Shawn, the front desk clerk.  He keeps his distance from relationships for a reason, but just can't help himself when it comes to Shawn.
Shawn is on the run from the law and love to protect himself and anyone else involved. One man is dead because of him, and his life now is simple and easily thrown into a bag at any hint of danger. Until he meets Hunter, and he no longer wants to run.
Forced into a hostage situation, buried passion explodes in the aftermath, and sex in the supply closet brings their hearts back to life. Tentatively, step by step, they begin to explore a relationship together until the past catches up with Shawn.
FBI agent Nick Truman has finally found his man, but when Shawn escapes, he focuses his attention on Hunter. Shawn returns, even though it means sacrificing himself to save Hunter from the man who framed him for murder.
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ABOUT THE AUTHORHeloise West, when not hunched over the keyboard plotting love and mayhem, dreams about moving to a villa in Tuscany. She loves history, mysteries, and romance of all flavors. She travels and gardens with her partner of 10 years, and their home overflows with books, cats, art, and red wine.
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