Cameron D. James's Blog, page 11

New YA gay romance coming soon!

As I’ve mentioned a few times around the internet, I’ve branched into young adult gay romance. These stories have none of the sex, but all of the heat.

My first book under my new YA pen name (Dylan James) is called Gay Love and Other Fairy Tales and it comes out next week on Tuesday September 11!

Heads up — I seem to have a high “cry rate” among readers! More than half the readers so far have reported crying or tearing up during the ending. Can you keep it together?

Blurb:

Jordan Ortiz decides he can no longer hide who he truly is. He’s gay.  He comes out to his family, then he comes out to everyone, and it goes well. Like, way better than he thought possible. But that’s about where it ends. There aren’t enough out gay kids at school for him to build a queer social life or even consider the possibility of dating. For now, he’s happy to be the gay bestie for his BFF, Hannah.

Benjamin Cooper is the captain of the football team and has known Jordan for almost his whole life. And he has a secret. When they won an award at the science fair in grade nine, Jordan hugged him—and that’s when Ben realized he had feelings for Jordan. As he watches Jordan come out and flower into who he is, he can’t help but feel ashamed—ashamed at what a coward he is compared to Jordan.

When a broken leg and fair-weather friends leave Ben feeling lonely on Christmas break, he spends New Year’s Eve with Jordan, just hanging out in his basement like they used to years ago. But as the countdown to midnight happens and the ball is about to drop, Ben has something else in mind. At the stroke of midnight, he kisses Jordan.

What starts with a surprise kiss leads to a year of shared secrets, hidden love, relationship troubles, and broken hearts. Through it all, one fact holds true—Jordan loves Benjamin and Benjamin loves Jordan. But is that enough to carry them through when Ben wants to stay firmly in the closet, to the very point that this might destroy what hope they have of true love?

Pre-order your copy now so you’re the first to read it!

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Excerpt:

Nineteen minutes and thirty seconds.

I can’t keep counting down like this. I’m going to drive myself insane. I’m going to kill the mood if I’m glued to the clock. I hear some rustling beside me and I see that Jordan has pulled out his phone and he’s scrolling through Instagram. He suddenly angles his phone away from me.

“What?” I ask.

He hesitates, then says, “Nikki’s posting pics of her and Winston.”

“I’m not her boyfriend,” I say automatically. I’ve never actually said that to anyone. I’ve always just let people make their own assumptions and I was happy to play along with it. “We were never together.”

“Really?” Jordan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I make her look good in photos, but I have no interest in her,” I say. I can feel a bead of sweat forming at my temple.

He scoffs. “You put on a good act then.” He goes to her profile and scrolls down until he finds pictures of me and Nikki. Together. Kissing.

“That’s exactly what it is. An act.” My heart is beating so hard it feels like it’s going to punch through my ribs.

He looks at me like he’s assessing me. “She’s gorgeous,” he says. It’s like he’s pushing me, like he knows what I want to say, even though I don’t think he has a clue. “She’s a control freak sometimes, yeah, but she’s gorgeous.”

“Not my type,” I say.

“Oh?” He shuts off his phone and tosses it on the couch between us. “What is your type?”

You. You’re my type. But can I say those words out loud? Hell no. Coward.

Instead, I turn my attention to the TV. Fourteen minutes left.

“I’m still figuring that out,” I say.

He seems to accept that as an answer, or at least accepts that I’m not ready to talk more about it. We silently watch the rest of the countdown and inwardly I’m kicking myself again — way to ruin the mood right before the hug! I’m saving my last mouthful of Bud Light for midnight, so I’m just sitting here idly holding an almost-empty can of beer.

Finally, what seems like ages later, we’re down to less than a minute. Slowly, the energy in the room warms up. I lean forward, like getting closer to the TV is going to somehow make this more exciting. Beside me, Jordan does the same.

“Ten!” he says out loud, joining the cheering people on the screen counting down.

I join in with him. “Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy new year!”

I take that final swig of beer, letting the alcohol give me a burst of courage. I stand up and hold my arms out and Jordan stands up and comes into them. I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight.

“Happy new year,” I whisper.

“Happy new year,” he whispers back.

I know I should let go, end this hug, because it’s getting too long — it’s past the limit of how long friends hug. But I don’t want to let go.

I never want to let go.

Jordan feels so right in my arms.

But there’s something I want even more.

I loosen my arms a little bit and he backs up just an inch or two and he looks up at me. His eyes sparkle in the light and I can see a question behind those clear, brown eyes. He knows something is different.

With the alcohol pushing my decisions, I angle my head in and kiss him.

He puts his hands on my chest like he’s ready to push me away, but I keep kissing him, even though he’s not moving his lips, even though he’s as still as a statue. Panic starts to rise in me and I can feel myself starting to shake. Jordan isn’t responding.

Pre-order your copy now so you’re the first to read it!

Donovan’s by CC Strix

Wyatt is at the top of his game. His restaurant, Donovan’s, is booked out six months in advance and his goals of having the top steakhouse in Las Vegas no longer seem like a dream. Despite his professional success, it’s not enough, because no matter how hard he works, he’s still alone at the end of the day. Wyatt can’t let anyone close. A lesson that’s been drilled into him time and again. There’s too much at stake. One mistake could cost him everything. So, he keeps his head down and stays out of trouble, until a customer drops dead in his dining room and he realizes his past may not be as far behind as he hopes.

Rhonan needs a change. Small towns and small town minds have worn on him. When his granddad calls and says he needs help, they both know it’s the excuse Rhonan needs to make the move from Illinois to Las Vegas. The change of pace and fresh start is just what he needs to find himself. When a guy drops dead at the restaurant Rhonan’s eating at and he overhears something he shouldn’t, his journalist instincts kick in before he can stop himself. Soon, he finds it’s only the beginning of the whirlwind that trails behind the mysterious chef. It may not be quite what Rhonan had in mind when he decided to turn his life upside down, but there’s something about the handsome chef that keeps Rhonan coming back for more.

Buy your copy now or read for free on Kindle Unlimited!

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Excerpt:

Rhonan paid for his drink and tipped the gorgeous blue eyed, black haired, muscles on top of muscles, bartender then turned his head slightly towards the center of the club. The way the club was set up, there were two levels for the bar, but the upper level was quieter, if only marginally, due to the huge open center than revealed the dance floor below. He let his gaze run over the crowd below and his heart kicked in his chest when his gaze landed on those same hazel eyes he’d been trying to chase from his head since Rhonan walked away from them hours before. He had tried to brush off his interest in the chef as a simple curiosity. After all, someone was murdered in his restaurant and a threat was found. Add in the fact Rhonan was having visions about the same man, how could he not be curious? After that brief run in with Wyatt in the parking garage, Rhonan knew his interest ran deeper. It had taken all of Rhonan’s self-control not to get closer to Wyatt as they stood there smoking. His deep timbered voice had soothed Rhonan’s nerves and he had actually considered slipping Wyatt his number before he remembered himself and walked away. He knew it wasn’t something he should pursue at this point. Wyatt would be busy enough at the restaurant and Rhonan had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life. There was no sense in starting anything up until he knew if he would even be sticking around. Then again, they could have simply had one night. Apparently they still could.

Rhonan shook his head, trying to rid himself from these thoughts and found Wyatt on the dance floor once more, still staring up in Rhonan’s direction. His heart skipped a beat like it had back in the parking garage when he caught Wyatt staring at him. The chef was definitely going to be bad for Rhonan’s heart at this rate. What was he doing here? Had they closed the restaurant down? Rhonan stopped caring once Wyatt flashed a predatory smile his way. Through a bold move of trying to maintain disinterest, Rhonan turned away from the sexy chef and focused on the bartender instead. He laughed and flirted with the man while he discretely pulled out his phone to check for new information on the restaurant or the investigation, but found nothing other than the standard, ‘police are investigating, business as usual after today’. Rhonan had just slipped his phone back into his pocket when the bartender gasped quietly and took a step back, his eyes pinned on whoever was closing in on Rhonan’s personal space.

“Two of whatever he’s having.”

The rough voice with the slight accent to it, one Rhonan still couldn’t place, sent a shiver racing right down his spine. He leaned his head back without turning around, “You might be sorely disappointed in that, Mr. Palmer. It’s only soda for me tonight, I’m afraid.”

Wyatt leaned down so his lips were close to Rhonan’s ear. “I’m not looking to get drunk. There are plenty of other ways to get a buzz without liquor.”

The bartender quickly returned with two more lime sodas, flashing his megawatt smile as he tried to flirt with both men. Wyatt slapped down a twenty, barely giving the bartender a second glance as he told him to keep the change. His attention never straying from Rhonan, “I was thinking about you. Or rather trying not to think about you. I came here looking for a distraction,” Wyatt leaned in near Rhonan’s ear, again, and dropped his voice, “and imagine my surprise when I found the source of my frustration instead.” He shook his head, “I don’t think it’s a coincidence I ran into you. I think I was drawn here to find you. Maybe I need to try a different way to get you out of my system.”

Wyatt’s body pressed closer to Rhonan’s and Rhonan found himself shifting and pressing his ass back against Wyatt’s groin. Rhonan tipped his head again, bringing his lips dangerously close to Wyatt’s. “That’s funny, I was thinking about you too. Figured you’d be at the restaurant though and I didn’t want to keep stalking you in the garage.”

Wyatt let out a low chuckle, his hot breath fanning Rhonan’s face, “So you admit to stalking me, then? I do believe that’s a crime, Mr. Blackwell.”

Buy your copy now or read for free on Kindle Unlimited!

About the Author:

As a young child, CC would often immerse herself in books, loving the ability to lose herself in the magical worlds. As she grew older, she was no longer content reading about magical worlds and instead started to create her own.

She likes to explore worlds where magic is real and supernatural creatures walk among us. Vampires, angels, demons, were creatures and those with other supernatural abilities have their own challenges but one thing CC tries to remember is they all deserve a little love.

CC holds the firm belief that love has little to do with what’s in a person’s pants and celebrates love in all forms. While she primarily writes M/M,  sometimes the voices decide it’s not always so cut and dry. She gave up pretending she had control of the characters in her head long ago, it makes them all much happier that way.

Butt Week Deals!

Butt Week — an annual celebration of MM erotic fiction — is almost over!

I’ve got three books on sale for 99 cents each, and prices go back to normal on Sunday August 25th — so pick up your copies now!

Find the buy links, and info on tons more MM books and fun, at CB Archer’s official Butt Week webpage!

 

The Art of Falling in Love by Eli Summers

Greetings, book lovers!

Today I’m thrilled to share The Art of Falling in Love by Eli Summers! I read this book and I loved it — Holden and Aaron have some nice, easy chemistry — and the conflict comes from those around them, often in the form of micro-aggressions. The ending is wild as secrets get revealed. It’s fun! You should read it!

The Art of Falling in Love comes out next week — Tuesday, August 28th, 2018 — and you should preorder it now!

Blurb:

Love is never easy to find or to keep especially with the hormone and cliche induced drama typical within the walls of a small town high school. For seniors Holden Rogers and Aaron Stevens, it’s not just high school drama that stands in the way of love and happiness.

Holden struggles in the shadow of his older brother’s success by a father who berates and demeans and a mother who stands back and does nothing while neither one can see the man their son has become or the dreams of the successful man he wants to be. Aaron is expected to take over the auto shop his family has run for generations whether he wants it or not.

When word gets out the two have been seen together, racial and homophobic microaggressions that have been brewing in shadow breach the surface of this small town atmosphere. When big money talks, morality walks, and strong family ties that will break or bind, will this made for each other couple overcome the mounting obstacles or crumble beneath their weight as hard choices and sacrifices must be made?

Amazon | Smashwords | Eli’s Site | Goodreads

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Excerpt:

It all started at the local burger joint down the street from our high school at lunch. I was with my friends, a large group of us chatting about our plans after high school. The time we could kiss our high school lives goodbye and move on to what lay ahead, be it college, real jobs, or adulting in the real world was getting closer. I could feel it in the warmer, more humid air signalling we’d soon hit the beach for the summer and spend our time in the sand and water, outwardly not caring how much was going to change once the fall hit. I could pretend we would all remain friends, keep in touch even if several of us were going to universities and colleges across the country. Was it ignorance? Wishful thinking?Whatever it was, I didn’t see the point. I knew it wasn’t possible. The distance would eat away at us, and early lectures and coursework would eventually erode the friendships we had carefully cultivated throughout our four years at Elmwood High School. For now, it was easier for them to focus on the excitement of being seniors and the mystery of what lay ahead, but I couldn’t do it. Something much more within my reach, yet, not quite real was far more appealing than faking ignorance of what I knew was coming.

While everyone discussed where they’d be going, what they’d be majoring in, and where they’d be living, I had already checked out of the conversation. My mind focused on the waiter behind the counter. I had been spending the majority of my time here, much more than usual, staring at him from a table where my friends were more than oblivious of the fact I hadn’t heard a single word they were saying. Or so I thought.

“Holden, are you even listening? Your head hasn’t been in the game for the last few weeks. What the hell is going on up there? You’re going to have a rough time if that’s how you’ll be acting in University.” A quick jab to my arm from Tiffany made me lose focus on the waiter as I turned to my group of friends. “Have you figured out where you’ll be going after this? I’m sure your parents have a plan for you, just like your older brother.”

I shuttered, the thought of my older brother was unpleasant. I hadn’t thought about him in several months; I had tried to pretend I was the only child in the family now. I must have had a dramatic look on my face because my best friend, Tiffany, rolled her eyes and slapped me on the arm again.

“Oh, come on, he wasn’t that bad. Sure, he had an ego the size of this town, but he did have a good side.” She returned to the fries on her tray, drenching them in almost half a bottle of ketchup before shoving far too many in her mouth at a time. I couldn’t control the slight cringe of disgust at her fry habit despite years of witnessing the disaster.

Tiffany and I had known each other since kindergarten. I used to have a crush on her sometime in elementary school. It faded out and turned into the friendship we now had. I can’t quite remember where it ended, but I think it had something to do with the fact her dad loved me a little too much. I swear if I had decided to date her, he would have planned our wedding the next day. I wasn’t ready for that step just yet. It probably made her much less desirable. It also might have been the fact I liked the thrill of the chase. I liked having to earn someone’s approval, and I wouldn’t need to with Tiffany or her father.

I returned my attention to the waiter behind the counter, my mind trying to come up with any scenario about how I could get him to talk to me beyond ordering food. I had been daydreaming about him for a few weeks, wondering what it would be like to have a friend that appreciated me more than my current flock of associates. My breath hitched as he looked over at me, so I quickly turned away, accidentally spilling Tiffany’s drink on her.

“Shit. Tiff, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, oh god.” I grabbed napkins from the table, trying desperately to soak up all the Diet Cola I could. Tiffany was in shock; she just stared at the cola that was starting to seep into her clothes and onto her skin. “Tiff, you need to get up, we need to clean this fast.”

Tiffany slowly turned towards me, her eyes, small slits, her cheeks a bright shade of red, and her lips thinned and trembled in anger. Then she shoved me out of the booth onto the floor. She got up and stared down at me, Diet Cola dripping from her skirt to the floor. “What the hell, Holden!? Did you see a ghost or are you just trying to get on my bad side? You might as well be an only child; you’re nothing like your brother.” She stalked away, slamming her hand into the bar on the windowed door, shoving it open, and storming outside. I quickly looked at the rest of our friends and muttered a quick apology before smiling and running after her. She stood at her car with the trunk open. I hoped she wasn’t getting her tire iron out to hit me.

“Tiff, I’m sorry. I’m clumsy; I was distracted.” I was pleading. I hated when she was mad at me. Then again, I hated when anyone was mad at me. My social anxiety would flare up at the first sign of conflict. She was the kind of person that felt an intense flare of anger when something happened and let it out in unpredictable ways, even if she cooled down a little later.

She just turned to me, yanking out a bag from her trunk, and slamming it shut before stopping to glare at me, “Sometimes you can be a complete idiot, you know? What were you even looking at before you decided to ruin my day?”

I started to stutter as the panic set in. What was I going to tell her? She wouldn’t understand. Hell, even I didn’t understand my fascination with him. I hadn’t figured out if she would be cool with me trying to be friends with someone new right before graduating. Would she think I was trying to replace her?

“That’s a good look on you, Tiffany. Maybe you should call it something new, like Wet Dog.” Snickering, Clarissa probably felt like she had just made the sickest burn of them all. I don’t remember why we were even friends with her. She was outcasted from the popular kids a few months ago when her dad lost his business, and they became middle-class working folk. “I have to give props to the artist though. You’re such a visionary, Holden.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could say anything, Tiffany got into Clarissa’s face. “Listen here, bitch. I don’t know who the hell you think you are. We invited you into our group because we felt bad for you. You’re not some rich class girl anymore. You’re just like the rest of us, so back up and remember your place.” She shoved Clarissa aside before entering the business again, a small bag in her hand.

I just shrugged before moving around her, heading into the building as well. I waited at the door, hoping Tiffany would be in a better mood after a fresh change of clothes. She wasn’t someone you wanted to anger and still had grudges from kindergarten. She would bury you six feet under before she forgave you, and even then, it wasn’t a guarantee.

“Hey, are you alright? Your uh … friend gave you quite the treatment there.” He moved beside me, and I could smell the grease from the burgers wafting off his clothes. I couldn’t tell if I was okay or disgusted by it. I turned to face him, almost crashing into him. I hadn’t realized he was so close to me.

“Oh shit. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were that close. She’ll be fine. She just has a thing about my clumsiness. We all thought it would be a phase, but since it’s been a few years, turns out I’m just meant to be the clumsy friend for the rest of my life.” A small smile crossed my face before I looked down at the floor. I could feel the sweat beading on my hands.

“I’ve seen you come in here quite a few times since the start of the school year. I only learned your name because your friends say it every so often. I’m Aaron Stevens; my dad owns Stevens Cars & Trucks over on Fifth Street.” He stuck out his hand, and I hesitated a second before shaking it. A feeling of electricity flew through my body, and I couldn’t look at him at all.

“Hey Aaron, I’m Holden. Your dad is the mechanic in town?” Aaron nodded, a small smile on his face. “He’s currently working on a truck I brought in a couple of weeks back, and it’s a fixer-upper for sure.”

Aaron let out a boisterous laugh. “My dad swears at that truck more than I’ve ever heard him yell at anything. He says it’s totally messed up, and if you weren’t eighteen, he would tell you to find a new car to buy. You’re sure giving him a lot of work.”

I let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yea, it’s been sitting in my garage for several years. My father kept saying he’d teach me how to fix it, but then he got busy helping my brother with a truck he bought and ‘forgot’ he was supposed to help me. I’m working to pay it off and hoping for it to be ready before college starts. Not like I’ll need it, I’ll probably end up going to the community college here anyways.”

A woman called over to us, something about service. That’s when I realized we were still at the burger joint. I turned to see Aaron walking away, waving at me as he made his way back behind the counter. I was about to say something when Tiffany burst out of the bathrooms in her new outfit.

“We need to get back to school. I have a strong feeling Amanda Rothford is going to make some snarky comment about the change. I hate that girl. This is your fault; I hope you realize that.”

I just smiled, “We’ll just make some comment about being fresh, something she knows very little about, and maybe for shock value, we’ll add something about fish.”

Tiffany smacked my shoulder again, a little harder than the last time. “That’s disgusting, Holden. As much as I hate her, you know we only have to be nice for a few more months. Her family is moving to France or something for her school. Must be nice to just jet off across the ocean to some stupid art school.” As much as she claimed to hate how rich the Rothfords were, she couldn’t hide the tinge of jealousy in her voice. Getting into her car, she slammed the door and tossed her bag onto the back seat. I stood outside of the car, watching as Tiffany started her car. “Are you getting in or what?”

I waved her off, “I’ll let you cool down and just walk to school. I’ll see you in sixth period, alright?”

Rolling her eyes, she peeled out of the parking spot and threw up her middle finger. I hoped she’d get over this soon because I couldn’t afford to not have her as a friend right now. I threw my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed the headphones from one of the pockets, put them in my ear, and turned on some music for my walk. As the music drifted into my ears, I started walking to the school, feeling like it was going to be a much longer day than I would have liked.

“Hey, Holden. Wait up.” I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around, fear and panic in my eyes. I felt surprise and relief when I realized it was Aaron.

“Holy shit, sorry. I was listening to music. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” His apron was gone, as was the hairnet he had been wearing only a few moments ago. “Didn’t you have someone to help?”

Aaron smiled, starting his walk with me, “I’m a little ahead of the credits I need, so I only have classes after lunch. I work in the mornings for some extra cash because my dad says my helping him out in the evenings is ‘good experience not work.’ Can I walk to school with you or would you rather drown out the shrieks of your friends before you have to deal with your classes? I can leave if you’d rather be alone.” He looked so shy as he stuttered the last few words.

I put away my headphones, paying attention to him as we walked, “No, I’m all yours. I mean, you have my attention. Like, yes … you can walk with me. I don’t need to be alone.” I felt like such an idiot right now, why was I acting like this? This was too socially awkward even for me.

Aaron didn’t seem to mind, he just started talking about college after high school, “I won’t be going anywhere. I’ll probably end up not even going to college. My dad is committed to me taking over the shop from him when he retires. He took it over from his dad who took it over from his dad who took it over from his. It’s been in the family since the thirties or something. I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t really want to take it over but I will. If I didn’t, he would probably blow a gasket and maybe even kill me.” He looked at my horrified face, “Not actually kill me! But he would be mad, this business is a mainstay of our family, and if I don’t take it over, it’ll go to his brother’s kid, and he cannot stand that child. He says he’s too immature to manage the shop, and that he should never have passed the eighth grade.”

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, “Well that’s good.” I stopped, “I don’t mean it’s good you have to take over the business, it’s just good because I’ll probably end up being stuck in this town anyways, so maybe we can be friends for a while. I mean, I’m not saying you have to be my friend, but if you want to be friends, we can. Or like, maybe you’d rather just not be friends. I don’t know.” I couldn’t stop myself. I could feel my face burning up, not from the sun but the damn boy standing next to me.

Aaron just smiled as we walked up the school steps, “I’d sure like to think we can be friends. I’ll see you around and then maybe you’ll finally talk to me outside of ordering food.” He turned on his heels before heading in a different direction than me. I wanted to yell something at him, but that might make me look desperate or something. I just sighed before heading to my next class, with thoughts of Aaron running through my head. Would I even be able to concentrate today?

Something told me I was going to have a really hard time.

Amazon | Smashwords | Eli’s Site | Goodreads

About the Author:

[image error]Eli Summers was born and raised in Saskatoon, Canada, a small city in the middle of the Saskatchewan prairies. It is said you can watch your dog run away for two days straight. The city and the surrounding area make the perfect backdrop for most of Eli’s novels. Although he plans on moving to somewhere with a little more mountain, like Kelowna or Banff, he’s content to sit in his apartment, drinking coffee and dreaming about what his characters will get up to next. Sometimes he even drives out to the middle of nowhere to lie on the top of his car and watch the stars.

Eli has a knack for turning the copious amounts of caffeine (that no normal human should consume) into #ownvoices novels about boys that love other boys. Sometimes this includes a happy ever after, sometimes it involves tears, and sometimes the characters take the story in a direction even Eli didn’t realize would happen. He adds a generous heaping cup of fluff, love, and angst in everything he touches, most of the time on purpose but sometimes his characters make him do it. He wrote his debut novel, The Winter Experience in 2014 and followed up with the sequel The Summer Experience in 2015. He took a hiatus of about three years because his imaginary friends wouldn’t talk to him but now he has a new novel, The Art of Falling In Love coming out on August 28, 2018. He is also working on a much different kind of novel that involves the Devil, five chosen warriors and a whole lot of evil. The first episode is expected to come out on January 5, 2019.

When he’s not toiling away with word counts and a thesaurus, you can probably find Eli playing video games (Saints Row 2 and Witcher 3 among his favourites), daydreaming about the mountains or cuddling with his House Panther, Salem. He dreams of one day opening a publishing press that serves the LGBT+ community with a place to get their books out to the world.

Amazon | Smashwords | Eli’s Site | Goodreads

Encounters of Passion by Aaron Blackwood

Greetings book lovers! Today, Aaron Blackwood is back with another book! (Check out his other book, Phat Boi, by clicking here!)

Don’t miss Encounters of Passion!

Blurb:

This bundle of 4 urban erotica short stories tells of the hookups of gay black men out cruising; looking for sex, romance and passion in all the wrong places sometimes with disastrous results.

T-mac

A young brother meets a handsome chiseled thug at a local bathhouse. The attraction between them is immediate and intense, but they are not able to hookup just yet. Hot, horny, and bursting with desire, they desperately search for a way to make it happen.

Taken

At a summer music festival a 40-something year old man meets 29 year old Kavon, who is young, dark and hung. The man invites Kavon back to his home, but as the night winds down he notices some unsettling habits from his new friend. Before the night is over the man gets more than he bargained for.

The Trip Across Town

A community college school student travels fifty miles across town in the middle of the night to meet an established lawyer with a weakness for younger men. They have nothing in common but the obvious. Mark, the lawyer is sensitive yet full of contradictions. He thinks he has the young student under his control, but finds out otherwise.

Just Another Liar

Late at night, in a deserted movie theater parking lot, a young guy named Rod is approached by Sam; a hot and horny thirty-something cruising the lot looking for a good time. Through cautious conversation Sam determines that Rod is not a cop, but makes the foolish mistake of going to Rod’s house.

Buy Your Copy:

Amazon | Draft2Digital | Author Website

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Excerpt:

T-mac, was a brother I met at the bathhouse, Flexx, Labor Day weekend of 2003 in Atlanta. That night I was hanging out by myself, once again, due to poor planning on my part. I was alone, but not of my own choosing. All of my few friends were occupied that night. So, I ended up here.

The place was crowded with men from out of town. I did my rounds of the dimly lit rooms; going downstairs to tour the sauna, and steam room –lingering for a moment to check out the naked bodies in the showers. After multiple trips around the club, I became bored and tired and wished I had not come. There was little that appealed to me, and the white boys outnumbered the brothers and as usual ignored us. I knew it would take a lot to convince me to stay at this point.

I headed for the coffee machine. Ahead of me stood a tightly muscled brother with a black du-rag on his head. I liked how he looked from the back, now I wanted to see the front. I reached around him to get a cup, intentionally brushing his arm. He quickly turned around to see who had touched him. I looked into eyes that belonged in the bedroom. They were brown and reeked of raw street sexuality. Instantly I knew he was the one.

“Sorry man.” I said.

“It’s all good man.” He said in a southern drawl.

I quickly checked out my prize; all five feet seven inches of swarthy loveliness. His thick eyebrows embedded on a face that was darker than the rest of him. He had the kind of body I loved; Slim, dark, extremely cut with a tiny waist of about 28 inches, a six-pac and no visible body fat. He had the shape of a long distance runner. He was masculine, compared to many of the men in here tonight –most of whom were overweight, feminine, and loudly social. He turned around stirring his coffee while he checked me out. I returned his leer of interest.

“What’s your name man?” I asked.

“T-mac.” He responded simply.

“Does that mean anything?”

“It does but that’s a long story. My mama calls me Chris.”

“I like T-mac.”

“I like the way you say that dawg.”

“Oh! And what way is that?”

“Like we in the middle of sex.”

I wasn’t ready for that comment. But it let me know he was feeling me, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before we did something about it. Standing by the microwave we exchanged small talk, most of which was complementary, yet at the same time we tried to figure each other out. I know that he kept my attention, because he turned me on and I liked the way he kept licking his lips making my dick swell.

I commented on his lip action, which made him self-conscious, as he struggled to control it for a moment, but occasionally glancing south of my chest to see if he had succeeded. We stood there for a long time talking and flirting, competing to see who held the others gaze the longest, apparently the severity of mine was so intense he looked away for a moment as if embarrassed.

A very muscular brother with thick thighs and a handsome face walked up and stood behind him eyeing me suspiciously. T-mac turned and introduced his younger brother Michael, who was adorable. He was Polite and friendly in that southern kind of way. A little coy maybe, or so it seemed. They looked nothing alike, they were complete opposites, maybe they were half brothers?

Michael reminded his brother that their time in the club was almost up. T-mac, still focused on me, gave him the keys to their locker and told him to take money out of his wallet and pay for another six hours. Michael took the keys without protest and headed for the front desk.

Alone again, I looked down at his petite frame, aware that I was not his only admirer. Many other brothers –mostly sissies – would pass and linger with lustful looks in their eyes. One in particular would not go away. A sharp look from me dismissed him. He retreated sucking his teeth, rolling his eyes in a dramatic fashion and throwing an extra switch – for effect, his plumb behind disappearing behind a row of lockers.

My impatience was getting the better of me. All this flirting made me mad horny. I wanted to fuck! Earlier, in my rounds, I noticed an empty room that was under construction. It had been purposely left open with three chairs in it. It was a room that you did not have to pay for, providing some privacy for the locker renters. I suggested to him that we go there.

Buy Your Copy:

Amazon | Draft2Digital | Author Website

About Aaron Blackwood:

[image error]I am a passionate writer of gay short stories that touch on real social issues and inner conflict that confront gay black man. While sex is an important part of the content, its use to titillate is not abused but based on character choices and the consequences of that.

My aim is to engage the reader; entertain, arouse, move and think. I hope that my stories stimulate and leave an aftertaste for more.

My stories touch on a variety of topics that include: love, dating, sex, health, homophobia, aging, depression, religion, politics and much more.

I live in Atlanta GA and have lived in London, New York and the Caribbean. When I’m not writing or working (still have a day job…yawn), I work out, and haunt coffee shops till they throw me out. I am a night owl and write best at night when it’s quiet and the spirits are out (I’m kidding). I love to laugh and appreciate anything that’s creative.

AUTHOR LINKS
Website: http://aaronblackwood.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aaron.blackwood.77
Twitter: https://twitter.com/1AaronBlackwood
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard

Review: The Winter Experience by Eli Summers

I’m on a bit of a gay YA kick.

I saw Love, Simon and loved it. Then I read the book (Simon Vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalii) and though it was great too — though it’s one of those rare instances where I liked the movie better. (The book takes a slightly different approach, focussing on how gay kids are normal kids, whereas the movie focussed more on the romance plot — so both totally valid and worth exploring, but I liked the movie better.) And I’ve started reading The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee and I’m enjoying it a lot so far.

It was through a Twitter post made by YA author Eli Summers about Love, Simon and how he stole a some random girl’s boyfriend that I discovered this author and his books. (Read the cute and hilarious Twitter thread here.) I was curious, clicked my way onto Eli’s website and found his book, The Winter Experience, a gay YA novel.

I loved The Winter Experience.

[image error]It’s got a bit of a happy-go-lucky feel to it with a rather homonormative cast of characters and supportive characters. (As in LGBT relationships are seen pretty much as equal to MF relationships, so there’s little to none of the awkwardness and homophobia that can often come along with books set among school-age / teenage kids. I tend to write homonormative books too so I’m on board with that.) It was a delight to read along as Mattie moves to a new town and a new school, has an instant crush on Morgan, a slightly older boy, and then finds out that Morgan is also gay and likes him back.

The relationship moves a little fast and gets a little heavy at times, but that’s reflective of young love. When it’s a first relationship, which I think it is for Mattie, it’s easy to fall into it head over heels, it’s easy to get carried away, and it’s easy to very quickly develop those very deep feelings. Part of me was worried that Mattie would have a hard lesson to learn for falling too in love too fast.

Thankfully, Eli Summers doesn’t take the reader on that emotional roller coaster.

However, not all is perfectly wonderful in Mattie’s world.

Each chapter opens with two paragraphs in italics. Mattie is exploring a box of photos of his relationship with Morgan and the framing narrative sets up the story of each chapter. However, about halfway through the book, it clicked in my head that the italicized framing narrative talks of Mattie and Morgan’s relationship is in past tense.

The book became an emotionally tense read from then on. Each chapter sees Mattie and Morgan’s relationship continue to blossom and strengthen. They’re adorable together and as a reader you want them to stay that way forever. Every obstacle that Mattie sees in the way of his relationship with Morgan is quickly dealt with — and it leads the reader into thinking that they can overcome anything.

But with that past tense framing narrative, an astute reader will know that something happens.

What that something is, I won’t tell you. You have to read the book to find out.

Though the book ends with that down note — a very effectively written one, I must add — the very final line gives the reader a glimmer of new hope, which directly leads into the sequel, The Summer Experience.

Those who follow my blog know that I rarely review books anymore. (That’s admittedly partly because I read too many Star Trek books and I don’t want this to turn into a Star Trek blog.) With The Winter Experience by Eli Summers, I felt a review was a must, because I want other people to enjoy this book too.

And — good news! — Eli offers The Winter Experience as a FREE download if you sign up for his newsletter! Click here to sign up and get your free copy! (If you prefer to buy your copy, you can find it on Amazon here.)

Phat Boi by Aaron Blackwood

Hi book lovers!

Today we’ve got Aaron Blackwood here with his newest novel, Phat  Boi! Check it out!

Phat Boi

Cedric is a gay, overweight black man with self-esteem issues, which he hides behind his sense of humor. He has a smart mouth but is vulnerable when it comes to love. At a spiritual retreat, he meets Walter, who is attractive, masculine, intelligent and entirely out of his league. Cedric is immediately infatuated. To his surprise, Walter responds favorably. As their friendship develops, so do Cedric’s feelings for Walter. When unsettling secrets about Walter emerge, Cedric chooses to overlook them. A devastating event takes Cedric by surprise and forces him to confront the truth about Walter—his life will never be the same again.

Buy Your Copy:

Amazon | Draft2Digital | Author Website

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Excerpt

I’d met Walter at one of those spiritual retreats meant to rejuvenate your spirit and put you more in touch with yourself. Ant had suggested I go to replace a friend of his,who’d fallen sick; Ant said I needed it more than him. Maybe it would help with my self-esteem. I refused at first, of course. I didn’t need any damn course. I already knew my self-esteem was in the toilet, and didn’t need a therapist or yogi to tell me that. And for me to go by myself, without my sistah—no way. But when Ant showed me the brochure, and I saw it was a wonderful hideaway in the mountains with manicured lawns, a huge pool–which I wouldn’t be caught dead in–with lovely chalets and an all-you-can-eat buffet, I was sold.

Two weeks later, when the Metro-North train finally arrived at a deserted country station called Rhinebeck, I was glad to get off. Stiff and hungry, I was bored of seeing green fields and grazing cows, with not a Checkers or Chick-fil-A in sight. The old, hard-cushioned train seat had made my butt sore. Shoving my way down the narrow corridor of the train, I picked up my two-piece Louis Viton luggage,which I’d bought ‘bootleg’ from an African guy off Canal Street. When I stepped off the train,there was a woman in a blue dress holding up a homemade sign that said, ‘Shady Pines Retreat’. She looked like Mary Ellen from the old TV show The Waltons,but older. That blue dress is not your color, gurl; not with that pale skin. I and other passengers who got off the train approached her. The woman in the blue dress announced herself as Mary Lou, which was no goddamn surprise to me. She looked like a Mary Lou something. There were about ten of us listening to her frenzied gibberish about what a good time we’d have this weekend,and we’d come to the right place and all that. All I kept thinking was,gurl, take me to that buffet; I’m famished.

I looked around at the crew with whom I was to spend the weekend. They were mostly women. I ignored them at first to see if there was any prospective eye candy to hold my interest while doing yoga or something. Unfortunately, the pickings were poor. Two middle-aged men who seemed like uptight business types. A young hippie-looking fella with the darkest tan,long hair,and a guitar on his back. A big boy like myself, who was white, gay, and eyed me with suspicion and contempt. I guessed I’d just be buddies with the women for the weekend. Some certainly looked more fun than the men. Like Candy—named appropriately—who had big breasts, blonde hair, and a big booty, for a white woman. She was checking out our hippie friend, then smiled and winked at me when I caught her.I knew she would be my drinking partner and a good girlfriend for the rest of this trip. We clambered into the two mini-vans there to pick us up. The drivers were as cheery and effervescent as Mary Lou. Lord! I thought, I’m gonna need a drink. You’d think I was in Tennessee or Alabama, not Duchess County, New York.

I sat in the first bus, pressed up against an uptight businessman named Burt. He started to sweat. I eased off him a little, thinking I was the cause of his rapid perspiration. He was stuck next to a big black gay man, and it was probably making him crazy. I planned to do other things to wreck his homophobic nerves on this trip. Mary Lou sat in the front passenger seat next to the driver and continued to gush with pleasure, repeating what a good time we were in for. She laid out our immediate itinerary, which did not include eating. I was dying for a sandwich. Cramped and frustrated, we rode through the entrance gates of the retreat, past a big sign which read, Welcome to Shady Pines.

The van curved around a long driveway lined with tall, majestic pine trees, and stopped at the main building. Shady Pines did look as beautiful as the brochures. I stumbled out and followed my pack of fellow travelers to the banquet hall, where others were already waiting, which surprised me, because I thought the motley crew I’d arrived with was all I had to deal with for the weekend. But no, there was a diverse assortment of people waiting, some younger and more vibrant, around my age—in their early thirties. People were chatting and getting to know each other. Mary Lou told our group to leave our luggage at the back of the hall. We could collect it after the introduction ceremony and then assigned to our rooms. We were given bright yellow name tags with bold black lettering. I noticed the people already there had plastic cups in their hands and little matching plates with sandwiches on them. I looked around and saw the table with treats on the west wall of the hall. Naturally, I went over and loaded up my little plate with six sandwiches, but became conscious of Burt watching me, so I put back two.

We were all told to be seated. On the dais was the director of the program at the podium,various instructors seated behind him. They all looked trim, healthy, tanned, eager, and fucking happy. I was only one of three people of color in the room,including a Hispanic couple.But I didn’t get that uncomfortable vibe you sometimes get from white people,when they  feel you’re someplace you don’t belong—except from Burt, who was both anxious and curious around me. We were introduced to all the instructors. Each one got up to tell their story and talk about their specialty. There was the yoga instructor named Sven from Sweden—of course. He was unusually tall, with all the characteristics of a typical Swede; thin, with tanned skin and blond hair. There was Natasha the Russian masseuse. Another stereotype, she was big and burly. Her arms were larger than mine, and I suspected she was a dyke. Gloria the Reiki Master looked like she’d just had a hit of Ecstasy, and Vincent, the meditation guru, looked like he’d joined her. Frankie the lifeguard was the only normal-looking one. He was just beefy. Then there was Gerald,who would conduct various interactive workshops. I didn’t know what to make of him.

The introductions dragged on a bit too long, to the point of making me sleepy. I wanted a nap. I headed over to the table and got myself a cup of coffee.

“You’re bored already, too, I see.”

After putting my fifth lump of sugar in my coffee, I turned around to see a tall man. I hadn’t noticed him before. How could I have missed him? I’d already scoped out all the men. This delightful creature was about six-foot-two; not athletically built, but thick and solid. His massive hands looked strong, with veins running all over the back of them. His shoe size hinted at confirmation of a certain myth. His powerful cheekbones sat under expressive eyes, like a narrow ledge on a mountain. Generous lips opened to invite a beautiful smile, with almost perfect teeth.Oh! And did I mention that he was black? Nice mocha brown skin that looked like worn suede.

“No, not really,” I lied.

“I saw you yawning.”

“Oh. You caught that, huh?”

Then we both started to laugh. His laughter was high spirited and loud.

“Yes…Cedric.”He squinted to see the name tag I had been given stuck on my shirt.

“And you are Walter. Please to meet you.”

I wasn’t sure if this man was hitting on me, because he appeared straight, but I was loving the attention.

“Have you been to one of these before?” I asked.

“Yes, but not here. Shady Pines is my first time.I come to retreats to regroup and get away from the city and certain people.” I wondered who those certain people were…family, girlfriend, boyfriend…wife?

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” he responded quickly. “I can always tell the rookies.”

“How?”

“There’s always resistance to this sort of thing in their body language. Why are you here?” The question was bold,and took me by surprise.

“My best friend suggested it,” I blurted out.

“And where is he?”

“Home.”

“So you came alone.”

“Yes.”

“Well, Cedric, we’ll see what we can do to make you more comfortable for the next couple of days.”

At that moment, he was called away to handle sleeping arrangements. Mary Lou was beckoning me to do the same. I walked over to her and listened while she cautioned me on the rules of the sleeping arrangements. I would have a roommate; a wake-up call was given at six for those who wished to jog or do yoga, which would be at six-thirty, until breakfast at eight. As she went on and on, I only half-listened, turning to look for Walter, but he had already gone. Retrieving my luggage, I was pointed to my chalet and headed there with a light swing to my step. I had met a man. I grinned all the way to my chalet.

 

Buy Your Copy:

Amazon | Draft2Digital | Author Website

About the Author

[image error]I am a passionate writer of gay short stories that touch on real social issues and inner conflict that confront gay black man. While sex is an important part of the content, its use to titillate is not abused but based on character choices and the consequences of that.

My aim is to engage the reader; entertain, arouse, move and think. I hope that my stories stimulate and leave an aftertaste for more.

My stories touch on a variety of topics that include: love, dating, sex, health, homophobia, aging, depression, religion, politics and much more.

I live in Atlanta GA and have lived in London, New York and the Caribbean. When I’m not writing or working (still have a day job…yawn), I work out, and haunt coffee shops till they throw me out. I am a night owl and write best at night when it’s quiet and the spirits are out (I’m kidding). I love to laugh and appreciate anything that’s creative.

AUTHOR LINKS
Website: http://aaronblackwood.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aaron.blackwood.77
Twitter: https://twitter.com/1AaronBlackwood
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard

Daddy Bear by BJ Smyth

Happy Friday, smutty book lovers! Today I have BJ Smyth here with a sexy new book — I’ve read this one, trust me, it’s HOT!

Daddy Bear

It all starts with attraction.

Carter is Twenty-Two, insecure and desperate for a boyfriend. He also has a secret desire for older bear type guys.

Frank is Forty-Five, just out of a relationship. He has recently moved to the area escaping his old life and looking for a new start.

After a brief encounter at the local swimming pool, Carter can’t get Frank’s hot body out of his head. Can he make his Daddy Bear dreams reality?

But is Carter really what Frank needs in his life?

Buy your copy on Amazon or read it in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | Amazon IN

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Excerpt

I hear him drop his bag onto the bench as I resist the temptation to turn and face him. My body tingles with excitement knowing he is in the room with me and is about to get undressed. I can feel my cock stiffening as I imagine what he looks like naked. Trying to distract myself, I take my things out of the locker and place them on the bench.

Picking up my towel I sit down on the bench so I’m facing him and pretend to dry my feet, keeping my stiffening cock covered by the towel. He has his back to me as he removes his shirt. I take a deep breath as I watch him, his skin has a slight tan and his back is smooth, the muscles in his shoulders and arms look hard and tight. He has a large, black tribal tattoo running down the right side of his body. I take another sharp breath as he drops his trousers, bending over to remove them from his feet, he is wearing tight, white briefs, stretching across his arse, snugging his balls tight to his body. My cock stiffens more and I can feel pre-cum leaking from the tip as he stands and folds his trousers to place them in the locker. His legs have dark hair over defined muscles and I can now see a small patch of hair in the centre of his lower back just above the waistband of his briefs.

I’m staring in awe of his fucking hot body, built like a fit rugby player. He suddenly turns and sits down on the bench to remove his socks. We are now facing each other and I continue to pretend that I’m drying my feet, feeling my face flush at the thought he may have caught me staring at him.

“It’s quiet here in the morning,” he says, his deep, gruff voice sending shivers down my spine.

“Yeah, I’m usually the only guy around and there’s two women here regularly,” I reply, trying to keep the excitement showing in my voice.

As he stands, he slides his briefs off, balancing on one foot to remove them. My eyes scan his body, his pecs toned, covered in thick, dark hair, which runs down the centre of his chest, over his taut abs, meeting a thick patch of pubic hair nestled around his seven-inch uncut cock. His large, hairy balls hang between his thighs. I know I’m staring at his sexy hot body, but I can’t seem to look away.

Buy your copy on Amazon or read it in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | Amazon IN

About the Author

[image error]B.J. enjoys writing MM Erotic Fantasy to tease and entertain his readers. Having experienced many of the situations in real life he brings these into his books. Preferring to have mature characters in the stories, escaping the cliché of college boy romance.

I Hope you read and enjoy my MM Erotic books as much as I enjoy writing them.

If you already enjoy MM books or are just curious about MM love. Why not have a browse of the books, you may surprise yourself.

Follow the rainbow to your dreams.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BJSmythAuthor

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BJSmythAuthor

Finding Yourself at the Movies: The Power of Story

For those that have followed my blog closely, you may know that I participate on the group blog Oh Get a Grip. I recommend you check it out to see what I and my fellow erotic writers talk about.

Today, I posted a rather lengthy essay/post about diversity in movies and other media — and how this is and will be reflected in my writing. It was a big post, and rather personal, so I thought I should cross-post it here and share it with you.

I don’t watch a lot of movies. I find them boring.

It’s basically Heterosexual White Guy confronts an enemy that wants to destroy the world (or the world as Heterosexual White Guy knows it, which can mean his career, his marriage, his city, etc.) and only Heterosexual White Guy can save the day. It’s gotten real boring, cliche, and repetitive.

Other than Guardians of the Galaxy, I don’t watch superhero movies. They’re all the same. Good Heterosexual White Guy must save the world from Evil Heterosexual White Guy. They have a big battle. Buildings are destroyed. But just when it seems Good Heterosexual White Guy is about to lose and all hope is lost, he finds the strength within him to overcome. Yawn.

The trailer for Infinity War, the culmination of the last several years of Marvel movies, is a snooze fest. I struggle to pay attention to the whole thing.

Then there’s Black Panther. I haven’t seen it yet, but it’s one Marvel movie that I will make a point of seeing. Everything I’ve seen and heard about the movie tells me that it’s one I have to see — I dare not miss it.

What’s drawing me to the movie? It’s not about Heterosexual White Guy. Even more, it’s not even set in Heterosexual White Guy’s world. It features a nearly all black cast in the fictional African country of Wakanda and it thrives on the energy and vitality of the Afrofuturistic world it portrays.

Black Panther has so captivated audiences worldwide that it’s smashing box office records. There are news stories of inner city kids of colour in Canada and USA filling theatres, seeing themselves in the heroes on the screen (for the very first time), and being filled with inspiration and hope.

Last year, Wonder Woman did the same thing for young women that Black Panther did for kids of colour. Theatres were packed for Wonder Woman, smashing all expectations, because audiences were craving a strong female superhero.

Last night, I saw the movie Love, Simon. This movie is about a closeted high school boy who finds the strength to come out and find love. Love, Simon is so powerful, so heartwarming, so honest, and so true that it’s inspiring young people around the world to scrounge up the courage to come out. Social media is filled with stories of people who came out after watching the movie, then feeling so free and loved after doing so. (Honestly, I cried through two-thirds of the movie and I’m really not a crier. My sister calls me an emotionless robot — so this is a testament to how powerful this movie is.)

And it certainly didn’t escape my attention that **spoiler** Simon’s love interest is a black Jewish boy.

A while back, I watched Call Me By Your Name — a story of gay love in the 80s. It’s one of my favourite movies of all time. It is so beautifully done.

Diversity is on the rise in Hollywood. It’s good for business — all of the movies above have been critical or box office successes, or in most cases, both. All of them have drawn in audiences who may not share identities with the main characters, but they still find points of connection. When I saw Love, Simon yesterday, I highly doubt that the room was filled with LGBT audiences. My mom (who is straight) saw Call Me By Your Name and raves about it, and she’s going to see Love, Simon very soon.

During the Oscars, they televised a pre-recorded segment about diversity in movies. Oscar nominee Kumail Nanjiani had this to say:

“Some of my favorite movies are by straight white dudes about straight white dudes,” he said. “Now, straight white dudes can watch movies starring me and you relate to that. It’s not that hard. I’ve done it my whole life.” (source)

Audiences are finding themselves in these movies. And these movies are far stronger for it.

I hope this trend continues. I’ve mentioned many times before that I’m a die-hard Star Trek fan. I love how diverse the cast of the new Star Trek: Discovery is. In the past, Star Trek has been celebrated for it’s diversity, but it seemed diversity meant heterosexual white people and heterosexual black people. Until Discovery, I could probably name and count non-white and non-black characters on one hand.

With Discovery, among the main cast and secondary cast (which includes regularly-seen-though-not-always-named bridge characters), we have white, black, Latino, Malaysian, and Pakistani actors. (Shazad Latif is actually British, but his Pakistani heritage is a refreshing splash of diversity.) We also had Star Trek’s first official gay couple.

There is strength in storytelling reflecting real life. It makes it more honest, more true, more relatable.

A while back, there was outrage on Twitter (haha, when is there not outrage on Twitter?) over a writer who said that she is writing an all-white all-heterosexual cast of characters because that’s life as she knows it. The response from the internet at large was that if that’s life as she knows it, she’s likely ignoring the world around her. Almost no one lives in an all-white all-heterosexual community.

But reflecting diversity of characters is only half of it. The other half is diversity is emotional honesty.

In Love, Simon, Nick Robinson (who plays Simon) does a phenomenal job of exhibiting the awkwardness, discomfort, and ongoing nervousness of coming out. I saw a lot of myself in him and his portrayal of Simon. I’m sure many people did.

In Call Me By Your Name, Elio (brilliantly portrayed by Timothée Chalamet) has a very different journey than Simon — he struggles with the same issues, but doesn’t really have a coming out aspect to his journey. It’s reflective of the journey that many people have with their sexuality. No two people have the same journey.

Watching these very diverse movies and these movies that pack an emotional gut punch has me thinking about my own writing and what’s lacking — and what I want to achieve. I’m working on a very long novel right now, New York Heat, which is a sequel to two series I’ve already published. Since it’s a sequel, I’m mostly working with pre-existing characters … who are all white. Thus, with the two new characters I added to this book, I made one of them an immigrant from Ghana. It’s a small piece of diversity, but just the start of what I plan to do with my writing. I also made two men bi rather than gay, because I’m increasingly recognizing the threat of bi-erasure in erotic literature (and society in general, for that matter).

The sequel to New York Heat will be a book called New York Ice. Presently, I know of two new characters I’ll be introducing — one will be a trans man and the other will be a Thai gay man. The books are set in New York City, after all. I remember back when Friends was on TV, there were occasional articles in the media about how white the show is given where it’s located. I don’t want my books to suffer the same criticism. Really, though, it goes much further than wanting to avoid criticism. They say “write what you know” — so, what do I know? My close friends and family are white, Filipino, Malaysian, Pakistani, gay, straight, lesbian, trans, and more.

By writing diversity, I’m writing what I know. I’m writing a reflection of the world I live in, the world as it is.

Then there’s the emotional gut punch. One could very easily argue that erotica and erotic romance is no place for emotions other than lust and love.

I disagree.

Emotions and emotional storylines of all types add diversity to story.

The ending of Orphan’s Triumph by Robert Buettner (book five of the five-book sci-fi Jason Wander series) turned my world upside down for weeks. I still get chills thinking about how Buettner created such an emotional gut punch that was so unexpected — especially for the genre of military sci-fi — but was so perfect. After spending five books fighting an implacable enemy, one who has utterly destroyed everything and everyone Jason Wander cares about, **spoiler** the book ends with a final confrontation between Jason and the enemy (a planet-sized hive-mind being). I saw this coming half-way through the series. Then Buettner turned it all upside down by having Jason talk to the enemy, understand the enemy, have the enemy understand him, and then forgive the enemy and letting it go. Regularly in life, we are challenged to forgive our enemies and to show compassion to those who have harmed us. This book shows us how powerful that moment can be.

This four-panel comic strip from the often-hilarious and often-sombre Pearls Before Swine packs an incredible emotional gut punch in only a few words. This is a pain that almost anyone can relate to, whether or not they’ve experienced a school shooting.

Seasons three and four of Futurama, an often-goofy animated sci-fi show by the the guy that made The Simpsons, often has me in tears because of the unexpected but oh-so-perfect emotional gut punches. Peppered among the goofy episodes are emotional stories about love, family, loss, and more. The Jurassic Bark episode often has me tearing up just by thinking about it — a thousand years in the future, Fry discovers the petrified remains of his dog, Seymour, from before he travelled to the future. **Spoiler** As he’s about to clone his dog from the DNA they’ve found in the petrified remains, he discovers that Seymour lived a long life after Fry left and travelled to the future. In the closing scene, we discover that Seymour spent the rest of his life waiting at the spot where he met Fry, hoping that his master would return to him. The very closing second is Seymour passing away.

So is there room for this kind of emotional gut punch in erotica and romance?

Fuck yes.

I’ve mentioned before that I have a few pen names — under my other pen names, I basically write wank stories. They’re short and they’re meant to get the reader off. There is a place for those in the market and I’ll continue to write them.

But for this name, for Cameron D. James, I’m seeing a shift in where my writing is going. I will still market my stuff as MM erotic romance and/or gay erotica — but it will be so much more than that. New York Heat and New York Ice are both going to pack an emotional gut punch that is extremely atypical for the genres. But it’s the story I want to tell.

The best stories are often the ones that the writer is most invested in. Under this pen name, I write the stories I’m most invested in. I throw my whole heart, mind, and soul into these books. I try to reflect diversity (and I’m striving to do better at it) and I try to reflect emotional honesty — and to do that, I have to create stories that are deep and rich, which means I can no longer just do surface-level love stories. I can’t be afraid of taking a risk and going for something sad or painful.

Will I lose some readers? Undoubtedly.

Will I gain some readers? Undoubtedly.

But who am I writing for? The reader or myself? I’m writing for myself. But that doesn’t mean the reader won’t get something out of it. With novels of emotional depth and honesty, featuring characters that are diverse and true to life, who face the same struggles and trauma that real people face … there will be people who read my books and say, “Finally, a book that I identify with.”

I’ve always struggled with the vociferous argument that condoms must be used in MM erotic romance. The key argument is typically that featuring condom use or over-long explanations on how getting tested is a normal thing that loving couples do is written into the book for the young gay man who might be reading the story — maybe he’ll internalize that message and have a healthy approach to his sex life. The problem with that, though, is the key readership of MM erotic romance is women, not gay men. The message is nice, yeah, but it’s directed at the wrong people. (And, honestly, I think it reinforces the idea in non-gay-men’s-minds that gay men are diseased and must use condoms to stay alive — but that’s an argument for another day.) By including this in the books, these writers are trying to reflect a rather narrow exeperience that is not shared by their largest readership.

But by writing a diverse cast and plots that feature that emotional gut punch — and stories that reflect life itself — I can write something that almost anyone can identify with. That Pearls Before Swine comic I linked to above has a message that anyone can identify with, whether or not they’ve been personally affected by a school shooting. The ending of that book, Orphan’s Triumph, is about forgiveness in the most extreme of situations. Jurassic Bark, that episode of Futurama, is about loving your dog. These are relatable to anyone who consumes these media. And all of these media are richer and stronger for it.

I’m finding my way in my writing.

I was lost for quite a bit. I wrote some wank stories and thought that was the extent of it. I was going to write some stuff in other genres (in fact I have a sci-fi novel on my hard drive and plans for a trilogy, as well as plans for a line of thrillers that my writing group says is strong enough to land a traditional deal) — but I’ve put all of those projects aside and have no plans to pick them up again.

Why? Because they’re just plot. The don’t have the diverse characters (though I could certainly put that in) or the emotional gut punch that I now realize is what I love most about books and movies. To rewrite those books to include those things would make them very different beasts. I may return to them at some point, but I’m not ready for it yet.

I write stories of transformation, growth, pain, trauma, healing, hope, love, loss, and family. I write stories about life. Yeah, there’s a lot of sex along the way. Sex is part of life. There are probably people who read my books for just the sex. But there are also probably people who would read my books even if there wasn’t sex in it. I’ll write what I want to write and my audience will find me.

Just like audiences are now finding themselves in the movies, I’m hoping readers find themselves in my books.

New Podcast!

I’ve got a brand new podcast!

Sex For Money is about the business of writing, publishing, and selling erotic and romantic fiction — and two episodes are up already!

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Look for Sex For Money on Apple Podcasts, Google Play Music, Stitcher, or at indieerotica.com/podcast/!

Episode One: Facebook Changes — I tackle the changes Facebook recently made to how pages do and don’t appear in a user’s newsfeed, and what this might mean for the future of marketing on Facebook.

Episode Two: Goodreads for Authors — I explore Goodreads and discuss when, where, and how to market on Goodreads.