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Exciting Times

I am so excited about my latest release! For many many reasons so I thought I would share a few with you and give you a peek.

Yesterday the second book in The Were Chronicles was released. Pack Enforcer continues with the wolves and we get to meet Cain and Emily.

*** I actutally wrote Pack Enforcer (with a different title) before I wrote the first book in the series Pack Alpha. It was also the first book that I ever completed.

I decided to try to make it a series and decided to use it as the second book. Only because I thought we should start with an Alpha. And what an Alpha Gage made, right?

Cain and Emily have a special place in my heart. Their struggles and constant attraction just made me sit back and think: hmm- are they going to get it together?

Pack Enforcer also introduces the future players in the series. We meet Adam and Tony from book 3 and 4. Cain like Gage from the first book is a very important part of the series and I am glad has made an apperance in all of the books so far.

** So needless to say I hope you enjoy Pack Enforcer as I did writing it and now getting to look back and read it.

Pack Enforcer Blurb-

Enforcing his control never felt better.

As Enforcer for his Pack, Cain is used to people listening to him and following his orders without question. The only one to ever challenge him is Emily. Emily is good at pushing his buttons and making him want things he has no business wanting.

Emily has loved Cain all her life, but he denied her years ago. The two are thrown together when Emily returns home because of terrible attacks on Pack females. The sexual tension between the pair is explosive. No one is safe when this alpha male and strong female get together.

Reader Advisory: This book is best read in sequence as part of a series.


Cain knocked on the door to his Alpha’s study and waited for the grunt meaning to come in. He entered and remained silent as Lamont finished his phone call. If Lamont hadn’t wanted the conversation overheard, he wouldn’t have let Cain in. Werewolf hearing was better than any device you could buy.

Cain immediately recognised the young Were’s voice on the other end of the line. She spoke softly to the Alpha of the Pack, although her tone showed frustration. Hearing her voice sent a shiver down Cain’s spine and a jolt to his cock.

They all worried about the young Were women who were out of the Pack’s territory. In all of the attacks that had recently taken place, the females were away from home, out of Pack territory. Showing why he was Alpha, Lamont was calling them home before Cain had thought of it.

“Have some bags packed when your ride gets there,” Lamont said sternly into the phone.

Cain barely held back a smile when he heard the order.

“No, someone will be there to pick you up.” He looked over at Cain. “It will be someone you recognise from the Pack. Do not leave with anyone else.”

Lamont listened for a few more minutes before cutting her off. “No. You will stay in one of the cabins. It will be fully furnished for your arrival.” He waited again. “You’ll stay until we know what is going on and I tell you it’s okay to go back.” That was all Alpha speaking to one of his Pack. Cain knew how Lamont felt about Emily. How everyone felt.

Emily had been changed as a child, which was against every rule and law they had. Most children could not handle the stress of change. That was why it was forbidden. Too many children had died back in the settling days before his family had a Pack leader. It was Lamont’s father who had forbidden the change of children or anyone who did not choose it. There were too many risks.
Someone could carry the Were DNA two ways—through birth or by being bitten. However, being bitten did not mean they would automatically change. They must carry the strain somewhere down their line.

Cain’s brother, Tony, could explain it better. Tony was a natural born talker. He could smooth over anything or anybody. He was the face of the Pack. When the Packs had decided to come out in the open, to stop hiding from the world, there needed to be a recognised face. A face that people could see and not think of a monster. Cain was just glad it wasn’t him. He would rather stay home in his Pack’s territory, keeping watch and protecting his Alpha.

He turned his attention to the man who sat behind the desk. A man he respected more than anyone else.

“Emily Black,” Lamont told him once he hung up the phone.

“She’s coming home?” Cain asked even though he knew the answer.

Lamont nodded at him. “I want every female home and safe. Especially her.”
Cain understood what Lamont was saying.

They had rescued her from the cage she had been put into after she had been changed—when the ones who had changed her couldn’t handle her. She had been filthy and bruised from head to toe. Neglected and scared with no idea what was going on. She’d been twelve. Now, ten years later, she would be coming home to be kept safe once again.

“I want you to go get her and get her here safely,” Lamont told him.

Well there is your little peek!


Under the Covers

Does it ever feel like time is moving much slower than normal? That, while some things rush by, others seem to float there, just hanging in the wind, never moving forward? I remember the feeling from when I was a child, waiting for Christmas to arrive. It seemed like everyday was twice as long and the nights seemed to stretch on forever. Then, when Christmas Eve finally arrived, you'd toss and turn and wonder how eight hours could take a lifetime.

Well, if someone had told me I'd feel like that again, and in a good way, I never would have believed them. After all, isn't all the wonder gone?

Oh, I've felt time stand still before. Like when you're waiting for lab results or you're in labour. But I'd thought that the art of waiting on something truly magical was all but lost. Luckily, I was wrong.

Yes, after what seems like forever, I finally got my first two emails of cover art. I have to admit, watching cover after cover appear on the loops and on the website, I started to worry all the great ideas would be used up. An irrational fear, I know, but, since when are fears rational? And then, an email appears out of no where with an image staring back at me. I couldn't believe it. After months of waiting, it was finally here. The cover for my first story due out October 26th as part of the Voracious Vamps series, and the first book in one of my series—Dark Prophecy. Here's the awesome job of Sacred Talisman...

As you can see, it's got that gothic feel oozing out from the building, with the blood red series title dripping along the bottom. I was speechless. I wandered around the house wondering, 'can I flaunt this? Is it final?' I think I bugged everyone with questions about protocol and the like, only to have another fabulous piece of art show up the very next day! It was like having Christmas twice in a row. Now take a look at my other beautiful cover. I LOVE this one like there's no mañana. Oh, I could just eat the guy in one bite, and I suppose the girl's not too bad either :D

Anyway, it got me to thinking just how much a cover sells a book. I mean, how many of us actually pick up a novel if the site of it turns our stomach. Or if we look at it only to discover the image isn't about anything in the book. Like editors, cover artists are behind the scene warriors, always fighting for us without us really knowing they're there. Sure we send back an email saying, 'I love it', but does that really say it all? Without a great cover, a perspective reader might never read the blurb, let alone read an excerpt. The cover is your first impression, and as the commercial always reminds us, "You never get a second chance to make a first impression."

So I'd just like to say thanks to all the unsung heroes of the publishing world. To the editors and final line editors... to the cover artists and proofreaders... to those who make decisions everyday, all with the author's best interest in mind, even though they've never met them.

Oh, and the best part... I've still got that "excited waiting feeling." In just under one month I'll have my first ever published story... who knew waiting could take so long.

Romancing adventure at a time.


Just Released, and a sweet chance to win!


A prince without a kingdom, and a princess without a master. A Satyr's passion knows no bounds.

As a princess of the Satyr confederation, Minerva has been coddled, spoiled and revered, as well as taught and trained just how to serve her Satyr. Beautiful, sexy and a prize in herself, she's anxious to meet the man that will become her lover, master, and reason for living.

Esben Chambers, a half demon, half something else orphan lives on earth with few cares or ties. His family partially unknown, he's embraced his Strigo, or time demon, heritage, though some of his powers are well out of the scope of the lords of time.

When an Imp shows up at his estate and claims he's the only living Satyr prince to clan Tempest, Ben realizes there might be something to figuring out just who his father's people were, and agrees to go to New York for a Convergence Summit. He's counting on figuring out why he was left alone in the world.

What he doesn't count on is the enchanting woman he sees in a floor show, the woman that makes his blood burn to possess her.

Audra and I are extremely excited to have this book out finally and love that it is with Total E Bound! To celebrate the release, we are giving away a fantastic gift basket! This gift basket contains a t shirt with the awesome cover on it, as well as a tote bag with the cover, a set of playing cards (cover on the top) a signed cover flat, other promo, print book OF READERS CHOICE and a one of a kind set of earrings created for the book release in sterling silver, fire opal, smoky quartz and crystal.

So how do you win? buy the book today, and email us ( with the answer to this question: What is the name of the first girl in the book? You have until September 29th to get your entry in!


Gay Until Graduation

Hi everyone,

My new short novella Gay Until Graduation came out this month. It is part of the G-A-Y Collection, but it can also be read on it’s own.

Here’s the blurb:

A gay man should know better than to get involved with a guy who is only gay until graduation, but Baxter’s never been very good at saying no to Spencer…

Stunning, dominant and cheerfully bi-sexual, Spenser’s been screwing his way through both the male and female student population since he arrived at the university. Baxter is entirely gay, completely submissive and, by his own estimation at least, thoroughly average. He knows that being more than friend’s with Spencer would be more trouble than it’s worth.

When a drunken Spencer decides that he’s going to be gay until graduation Baxter doesn’t pay much attention. But when his friend’s attention suddenly focuses in on him, the guy he’s had a crush on for months soon becomes far more dangerous to his peace of mind.

And here’s a quick excerpt:

Baxter knows he should say no to a relationship that will break his heart when they graduate, but he’s never been very good at saying no to his friend—especially not when Spencer is offering him everything he’s ever wanted.

“He didn’t…” Spencer’s eyes opened very wide.

Baxter Phillips tore his gaze away from his friend for a moment, and spared a glance for the guy with all the gossip.

Jimmy nodded and quickly tossed back the last of his beer. “He dropped out last week. Got a proper job and everything,” he informed them.

“Bloody hell!”

Baxter turned his attention back to Spencer. His eyes were still huge with shock, his lips remained slightly parted as he tried to take it in. Shocked and confused was a very good look on him.

As Jimmy wandered off to get another pint and find more people who hadn’t heard about Tony’s sudden departure from the university via his girlfriend’s impending visit to the maternity ward, Baxter resumed his usual occupation—that of trying not to spend all his time staring at his friend.

“I can’t believe he got her pregnant,” Spencer said, running his hand through his hair and pushing the messy black curls out of his face for a moment. “He can’t have! I mean, seriously, how did he…?”

Baxter held back a smile as he risked raising his gaze and admiring his friend rather than his beer for a few moments. “I’d assume he did it the usual way, although I’ll happily defer to the bi guy at the table in this case.”

Spencer shook his head rapidly, sending glossy black strands swirling around his head again. “Not anymore I’m not!”

Baxter took a sip of his beer, barely resisting the temptation to reach out and push Spencer’s hair out of his eyes for him. “You’re not what?”

“I’m not going to be bi any more. Tony screws girls—look where it got him. No more girls until after graduation.”

Baxter glanced at Spencer’s half full glass. He hadn’t thought his friend had that much to drink. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re capable of staying celibate for the next six months.”

“Hell, no!” Spencer gave a theatrical shudder at the thought. “I’ll just be gay until graduation.”

Baxter nodded. Spencer wasn’t a man who coped well with any sort of rules about what he could and couldn’t do. His latest great idea would probably last for all of another half a pint or so.

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Judy later?” he asked.

Spencer gave the matter deep and considerable thought for all of three seconds. Before Baxter realised what Spencer intended to do, before he could make any attempt at damage limitation, Spencer had his mobile phone out of his pocket and to his ear.

“Hi, Judy!”

Baxter closed his eyes and then covered them with his hand for good measure as he pictured the inevitable fall out.

“No, I’m not going to be able to make it,” Spencer said into the handset.

Baxter risked a peek out between his fingers.

“I’ve decided I’m going to be gay until graduation.”

It was like watching that moment in a slasher movie when he knew someone was going to get cut into little tiny bits, but he couldn’t quite convince himself to look away.

“What?” Spencer frowned. “No, that has nothing to do with it. Have you heard about Tony?”

Baxter strained his hearing, but all he managed to catch was a murmur on the other end of the line. He couldn’t make out Judy’s actual response.

“Yeah.” Spencer glanced across at him. For a moment, Baxter couldn’t quite place the expression in his friend’s eyes. Then Spencer grinned. “Got to go.”

He hung up and stared at Baxter across the table in their quiet little corner of the Students’ Union.

Baxter held back a sigh. “Oh, God. What are you planning now?”

Spencer’s thoughtful expression merged back into a grin. “You know, you’re really hot when you do the whole disapproving thing.”

Baxter shook his head. “No.”

Spencer blinked at him, his eyes all innocent above an unbelievably mischievous grin. “You can’t say no, I haven’t asked you anything yet.”

Thanks for reading. You can find out more about Gay Until Graduation here.

Kim Dare.
Kink, love and a happy ending. Do you Dare?


You: Good And Getting Better!

If you’re like me, you don’t have enough hours in the day. Do you ever wonder what you could do with more energy, more pizzazz? Could you accomplish something really great, set the world on fire? Or if that’s a stretch, would you settle for being able to get out of bed without hitting the snooze button half a dozen times? There are days I’d be happy to make it through the day without dragging my rear end to the finish line.

But I’ve learned there are tips and tricks for managing our energy and being more effective.

As women, we have even more challenges. We get to deal with hormones and cravings, along with juggling multiple responsibilities. (Oh joy!)

First of all, ladies, taking care of ourselves needs to be a priority (otherwise we’ll continue dragging our butts all the way to the finish line, never mind setting the world on fire!).

When you’re looking at your energy level, pay attention to the great science being uncovered in this area. We need 7-8 hours of sleep a night. Sleep is where we rest, rejuvenate, heal and help our hormones balance—and this can help with us having a healthy weight.

Fueling our bodies with healthful foods makes a huge difference in our energy level. By eating every few hours, we don’t end up overly hungry and making choices that don’t support the demands of our busy lives. By eating healthy, we can help our blood sugar levels and avoid spikes and crashes. Darn it, I’ve learned I feel better after a breakfast of a scrambled egg with spinach and a multi-grain English muffin than I do after a cup of coffee with French vanilla creamer.

Regular exercise, including cardio and weight-bearing activities, are a huge help. (Of course, see a doctor before you get going on an exercise program!)

We all need breaks from stress, too. What rejuvenates you? A bath, a fun magazine, a long walk, a chat with my daughter, getting outside, are all things that fill my tank.

Just as we have a daily cup of coffee (or whatever your beverage of choice is) we can establish habits around choices that support, rather than drain our bodies.

Why not start with the rejuvenation piece? You can add more when you’re ready. But for now, can you build in a daily re-charge? If you did, what would that be? How can you set the world on fire? I’d love to hear from you!

--Supporting you…Sierra


The Moment It Hits You

I am trailing awkwardly in the wake of some amazing posts over the past two weeks! 

My topic is about the moment of realization that yes, I am an author now. And even though I've had an amazing week, finishing a ms on Friday, also signing my third contract on Friday, and having my first release day on Monday for Remarkable Restraint, it just didn't hit me until yesterday on my walk.

Running was a creative wellspring for me. Since I began to write last spring, each time I'd hit the pavement, my mind would set my body on autopilot and begin to churn over plotlines and backstories, hot scenes and angst.  I would practice dialogue out loud under my breath until I got it right. No music, no kids, no pets, no exercise partner, I would dodge soccer moms and dog-walkers completely immersed in my erotic visions.

And as a consistent backbeat to those conscious thoughts would be a slew of hopes and dreams...Wouldn't it be great to be published? I wonder if they've read my submission.  What should my pen name be? How cool would it be to go to a conference as a pubbed author? Will I ever get there?

My running was derailed in July by the infamous wine bar/clogs/curb accident that left me with such a severely sprained ankle that only yesterday, over two months later, did I feel up to trying to walk one of my shorter loops.  I set out, and my well-trained mind immediately slipped into creation mode. As I headed down the hill to the park, I began to notice small changes, the dirt lot that was now grass-covered, a house that hadn't even been for sale before was now sold.

I literally stopped dead in my tracks as it hit me...I'm now a published author. Since July, I've signed three contracts, written four new manuscripts, picked a pen name, built a website, had my first release date and my first fan mail.  All my previous aspirations and goals have come to pass, and it's the greatest feeling in the world to know that I'm now free to choose new goals to churn over while I work back into running.  Sky's the limit...

My Blog, My Turn To Write, at
And Visit My Website at


It's a Cop Thing

By Jenna Byrnes

I love cops.

No, I didn't used to feel that way when I was driving down the road and I'd see flashing red lights come up behind me. But those times were few and far between, and many years ago, so I'm back around to thinking that cops are indeed the good guys.

My first book had a cop in it, a detective, to be exact. Plainclothes, so he could wear tight jeans and a leather jacket. He had dark scruffy hair touching his collar, badly in need of a trim. A three-day beard growth (I don't know how a man is supposed to maintain the three-day beard growth look and my son agrees with me, it's a pain!) But my characters have it, and I like it.

The cop had a muscular physique and deep set chocolate eyes that could see right through to a woman's soul. The eyes had tiny lines around them that made him look tired, but when he smiled, they crinkled and his face fairly sparkled. That was Jack.

And later it was Nick. Only difference was, Nick's eyes were looking at other men. Same with the detective in my upcoming TEB release, Night Shift. Ryder has dark scruffy hair, a three-day beard growth--you get the picture. I'm enamored with the look, the fantasy.

It's funny, when I think about Jack, Nick or Ryder in my mind, I don't see the same man. They're each a special person with his own characteristics and quirks. But when I go back over the description, I have to admit, a sketch artist would have a tough time telling them apart.

I don't know any cops in real life and that works just fine for me. I'll keep them up on a pedestal awhile longer, until the story ideas run out. Which should be, oh, another fifty years or so. *G*

Night Shift
Rating: Total e-burning
Genre: M/M contemporary romantic suspense
Length: Short story
Available here September 28, 2009

Tracking a murderer on the streets of Chicago, two strong-willed detectives must work together on the case - as well as they get along in the bedroom.

Homicide Detective Cullen Ryder is worried. Someone is brazenly killing drug pushers on the grimy backstreets of Chicago. When the monthly murders jump to weekly and draw the focus of the chief of police, the Chicago P.D. starts jumping, too. The chief assigns a special task force to the case, much to Ryder's chagrin.

Handsome, dark-skinned Trevor Stone has testosterone and attitude to spare. As the head of the task force, he marches in giving orders right and left. Ryder doesn't like being bossed around, but he does like Stone. Maybe a little too much. When he discovers the feelings are mutual and the men fall into bed, neither is sure where the relationship is headed. Both know one thing - there's a murderer on the loose whom they need to catch, before he catches up with them.


Male-Male...Hell Yes.

First of all, if you haven't already read Kaenar's post before mine, you're REALLY missing out. Where does she find such glorious pictures???? And the story she wrote is fabulous, a hot m/m Naughty Nooner called Indulge Me.

Which brings me to the topic I'd like to mention today. The male-male romance. Forbidden, naughty, downright sexy. Two men (or more, hey the more the merrier) fall in love and express their desire physically. In erotic romance, yeah, it comes down to sex between people in love. What I find enjoyable about the m/m genre, in particular, is watching tough, alpha men express that other side, a deeper, emotional well of love that's often forced behind a machismo facade. I'm talking fiction here. Not every man is over six feet tall and has alpha tendencies. Most alpha men are annoyingly bossy. But in fiction, we can make them do and say whatever we want.

In my m/m stories, I write about strong, powerful men who may not be sure about what they want. Physically they're powerful, but emotionally they're needy--my favorite combination. In Caging the Beast, coming out next month, both my heroes are captured slaves who don't fit into the mold prescribed for them. They have needs they'd much rather deny than accept, but accepting themselves is the key to finding happiness. Figuring that out becomes crucial to the story.

Frankly, I don't see what's not to love about m/m erotic romance. Hot men, lots of sex, and an added bonus of love. Then again, I'm prejudiced to be open minded. Would that the rest of the world jump on that band wagon, we'd live in a much happier place.




The Gloriously Illustrated 'Indulge Me'

Friday was definitely a red letter day. The mailman came to the door with a box for me. Inside were my author copies of Naughty Nooners, a gay anthology with a story of mine as one of its six male/male tales. Oh, to hold those marvelous paperback copies in your hands. It's an incredible feeling.

The same day, I also received a new e-contract to sign as Indulge Me, my story from Naughty Nooners, will soon be released in print and audio. I am over the moon. It doesn't get much better than that.

Indulge Me was written after I spent a whole morning touring Spa Excess, the largest and most luxurious gay spa in Toronto. I'm the only woman to have ever seen the facility from top to bottom. Since women are not allowed inside, I've picked some passages from Indulge Me and put accompanying photos so you can get a feel for what it's like behind the doors of Indulgence, the gay spa in my book. If you're ever lucky enough to get a peek inside Spa Excess, you would see a striking resemblance between the two. Have a lovely visit.

The story begins with Keane Daniels receiving a cryptic, hand-delivered note.

Meet me at Indulgence. Noon today. I want you naked in the Wet Area.

‘Tall, dark and handsome’ might have seemed like a corny cliché, yet those were exactly the words he would use to describe Rayche Marquette. At six-foot-two, he towered over most men, and his golden skin and brown eyes spoke of his French-Canadian ancestry. He kept his mahogany hair longer than was fashionable, long enough that Keane often fantasised about running his fingers through the silky waves. Sharp cheekbones accentuated his exotic good looks and more than once, Keane had wanted to slide the back of his hand along the sexy five o’clock shadow that graced that jaw line by the middle of the afternoon. But he didn’t.

All the time he’d been in the locker room stripping off his clothes, Keane hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the mystery man waiting for him. As he’d walked down the long hall, the music from the ceiling speakers pounding through his body, he’d felt his cock rising against the towel wrapped around his waist. It was as if an electric current had been vibrating around him, caressing his skin as he made his way to the shower area to meet the sender of the note.

The wall to his right had showerheads placed at intervals to allow eight or ten men to shower at the same time. Keane laughed to himself. The last time he’d been here, there’d been very little showering and a lot of fucking. Slippery hands lathered with silken soap caressing slick skin. The room had been filled with the moans of men bent over as their partners moved in and out of them, the sound of flesh on flesh as wet bodies slapped together while the water poured over them.

Keane had walked in there one evening, his body embracing the smell of eucalyptus as the steam rose around the naked bodies writhing on the wooden benches. He remembered the man who’d risen from the fog, his features hidden in its depths, and reached out his hand to pull Keane to him. Those open mouthed kisses, the tender bites along his shoulder.

“Close your eyes,” a voice whispered.
His heart gave a quick kick. Do I know him? Keane wasn’t sure. The man spoke so quietly it was impossible to tell, but he did as he was told.
The stranger butted up behind him, rubbing his chest against Keane’s back. The rough hair tickled his skin.

“That’s why I wanted you to meet me here today. I wanted to tell you how I feel, show you what you make me feel.”
“So, go ahead. Show me,” Keane dared.

As Rayche pulled him upright and turned him in his arms, Keane grabbed his head and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. The hard fuck had barely taken the edge off his hunger for this man. He bit at Rayche’s lower lip, tugging it into his mouth, running his tongue along it. Then he drew back, gently pulling, slowly releasing it from between his teeth. He slid his tongue into Rayche’s mouth, slicking it back and forth over the sensitive palate.

Rayche stepped back to look at Keane. While lots of men were ‘dick men’—that was their favourite part of a man’s body—he appreciated the subtleties of a man’s back. The gentle curve of the shoulder blades, the ribbed column of the spine, that beautiful line where back met buttocks, the small of the back—those were the things he loved.

When he heard Keane’s head hit the towel covered bench, he knew his lover was enjoying the love play. Releasing the pressure slightly, he used his tongue to lightly bounce the wrinkled pouch against his palate. He popped it from his mouth then shifted his head to draw in the other side of the sac.

Eager to be with his boss a while longer, Keane led the way down the tiled hallway to the pool area. He always found it hard to believe it was a spa in downtown Toronto when one stepped through these doors. The tall pillars around the massive skylight, the stone benches scattered around the spacious room, the concrete urns full of flowers made him think of a luxurious Roman bath.

He checked out the video that was currently playing. It was more like man-oh-man porn. Four men were making use of a sling and doing some things he’d certainly like to try out with Rayche.

“What I want? What I want is to take you home with me right now and see how you look in my house. See how you look in my bed. See how you look in my life. I’m talking about having a relationship with you.”

You can read the first chapter of Indulge Me by heading over to the book page on my website.

Here's the blurb. I hope you enjoy it after looking at all those wonderful photos.

Indulge Me
by Kaenar Langford

Meet me at Indulgence. Noon today. I want you naked in the Wet Area.

Keane Daniels has received an anonymous note summoning him to Indulgence, one of the largest gay spa and bathhouses in Toronto. Since he's in unrequited lust with his boss, Keane thinks a clandestine tryst might just take his mind off his gorgeous colleague.

Rayche Marquette has wanted Keane since hiring him, but being his boss means Keane's off limits...until Rayche decides he can wait no longer and reserves the Wet Area of the spa so the two of them can spend a Naughty Nooner together.

Rayche and Keane meet in the elegant shower area, but when Keane discovers the sender of the note is his boss, his reaction is not what Rayche expects. Keane rebuffs him, thinking the lunch hour adventure is a lark for Rayche, a meaningless liaison. For Keane, that can never be enough with this man. How can he convince Rayche to turn their Naughty Nooner into a lifetime commitment?


Kaenar Langford
Tales to seduce and entice...


Erotic nude drawings

I forgot to share with you all the artistic renderings I had done of some of the characters of my White Tigers series. *head desk*. They are demonstrating the positions that appear in the love scenes of the book. So far I have Naoto and Koji ( Men of Tokyo: Sudden Bliss) and Na and Ryu (Men of Phuket: Tongue-Thai'd) but my artist, Librasart, is currently also working on Kiku and Yuzo Men of Tokyo: Sudden Surrender. That should be yummy!

Playing the Jade Flute

One man sits comfortably in a chair or on the edge of a bed while his partner kneels before him between his thighs. Holding the base of his partner’s dragon between thumb and forefinger, his other hand resting on his partner’s thigh or hip, he stimulates his partner orally in a gentle, even rhythm, sets of 6 to 9 strokes, stopping between sets to press the tip of the tongue briefly over the dragon’s mouth. The process is repeated until his partner climaxes at which time, he leans back and catches the dragon’s cloud (the emission) on his torso.

Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon (Yes, the title of the film was a sexual position!)

One man crouches on hands and knees while his partner kneels behind him, hands on his hips and penetrates his jade gate. When his dragon is fully in, he thrusts in sets of 6, keeping an even, steady rhythm, resting for several seconds between each set until climax. For stimulating and releasing yang and balancing with yin in both partners.


Simple Joy - Going to a Movie

I enjoy going to the movies but I haven't been to the theater in a little bit. Well let me clarify that. I haven't made time to go to the movies. I did go this summer when my sis was visiting but only because she said lets go to a movie. And off we went. But I haven't gone to one by myself just because I decided to go. I used to go to the movies often and also have dinner. It was a treat I gave to myself.

Well I saw a preview of a movie and said I wanted to go. Lately I usually say this and then forget or get to busy. This time I bought my tickets in advance and made time to actually go. On the day of my movie (2 actually. I decided to make a day of it) I got up excited and off I went to my movie. As I walked into the movie theater and saw the crowds of people also going to someone of the various movies the theater offers I got this feeling. There is just this feeling when you go to a movie theater. The best way I can describe it is a mixture of excitement and camaraderie with fellow movie goers.

Off I went to find the theater my movie was in. When I got there I took a seat and looked around at the other people. People were talking about a variety of things. When the lights flickered and went down it got quite. Previews started and I was on my way to my movie experience. Once the movie started I was swept away in the story. I relaxed back, ate popcorn and enjoyed the show. The other movie goers and myself laughed, grumbled and cried as the show went on . Before I knew it the movie was done and the lights came up. As I exited the theater people were chatting about the movie. It was fascinating listening to other people thoughts on what we had just seen.

I went to my next movie and it was just as good as the first. When I left the theater after and saw the lines of more people on the way to the movies I smiled and made myself a promise I would go to the movies more often. Besides all the previews I saw whetted my appetite for more movies. I made a list of some I want to see.

Glancing once more at the crowds waiting to go to their show I could see excitement, camaraderie and fun. Even spotted some people on dates (grin). That was my simple joy - going to a theater to see a movie. What things you enjoy have you done lately?

Taige Crenshaw
…increasing the sizzle factor

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Free Reads Site: http:/ /


The Wetness Test

Three days ago I finished a new story called "Crossed Hearts". It is a M/M short intended for the upcoming TEB anthology Gaymes. Claire's call for submissions for this collection says:

"We're looking for stories set around men playing games - any kind (but not the scrabble kind!!) - surprise us...but make it hot."

Of course, being the egghead that I am, I had already thought about a Scrabble-themed story, even before I got to the caveat. Fortunately I convinced my editor to at least look at at my attempt to make Scrabble sexy. (She replied, "Okay--if anyone can do it, you can...".)

Anyway, I had been working pretty hard on this submission, since the due date was September 15th. I was focused on the characters and their interactions, trying to show how a casual pick-up could morph into something deeper and more serious. I hadn't really been thinking about the sex, though of course, given that this was for Total-E-Bound, the tale contained plenty of it!

I was down to the final chapter when I took a bathroom break and discovered that I was absolutely drenched--wet, slippery, definitely aroused. I was a bit surprised, given my locus of my attention, but pleased too. Because if my stories turn me on, they have a reasonable chance of affecting my readers the same way.

The "wetness test", as I call it, doesn't guarantee that I've succeeded in producing a story that readers will love. It's always possible that I am imagining a scene in torrid detail, but not conveying the intensity effectively in my prose. It's hot in my head, but maybe not on the page. The other risk, I've discovered, is writing steamy sex scenes that don't include a powerful emotional connection between the characters. That can work in erotica, but romance readers normally don't want just a sex scene. They want a love scene.

Nevertheless, it's encouraging when my body reacts positively to my efforts at creating erotic encounters. Actually, I believe that is the key to sizzling sex scenes. You have to write what turns you on.

Over the past ten years that I have been publishing erotica and erotic romance, my own personal horizons have expanded. It's far easier for me to get into a M/M scene now than it would have been a few years ago. I find a much wider range of activities, orientations and fetishes personally exciting. Putting it another way, I've become increasingly perverse. I guess that this is progress!

Here's a blurb for "Crossed Hearts". I don't know whether TEB will accept the story or not. But I'm keeping my fingers crossed!

For the past six years, Jason Hofstadter has attended the Four States Annual Scrabble Tournament. Jason comes to the Four States for two reasons: to play Scrabble and to get laid. Every year since his first, he has managed to hook up with one of the other players for some sexual fun. This year he has a chance at the grand prize in the tournament. Meanwhile he figures that he has hit the jackpot when he spots handsome, bookish Matt Sawyer, who's competing at the Four States for the first time.

Shy and seemingly innocent, Matt turns out to be full of surprises. First he jumps Jason in the restroom at Starbucks. Then he reveals that he's into BDSM and encourages Jason to experiment with topping him. Jason finds that he has an affinity for dominance, at least when Matt is his sub. Finally, despite his lack of experience with tournament play, Matt ends up competing with Jason in the semi-final round. When Matt throws the game he should have won, Jason is forced to confront his own feelings: about winning, about casual sex, and about Matt.


PART 1: Where did it begin and what was the process?

I'm going to tell this story in two parts, so you'll have to stay tuned until next month for the remainder. So, grab your favorite beverage and buckle up, I tend to be long winded when I gab.


Where does an author’s career start? Is it that first acceptance? When you sign your first contract? How about when you can finally quit that day job you’ve hated for 20 years?

I used to wonder about this. Everyone had opinions, and I thought I’d mine with you.

I began creating stories as soon as I could differentiate between what was real and what came from inside me. I didn’t realize that most people didn’t have characters inside them jabbing at them to tell their stories until I was probably in my twenties. I thought we all tamped those voices down or that possibly I should steer clear of physiatrists. Now, when you’re married to someone who just might have you committed, and have a couple of tiny tots running around the house, you really don’t want to take that chance.

Let’s back this up to when I really began story telling. When I was very young, I had very bad eyes so my story telling took the form of verbal rantings or the creation of plays. I would imagine of the two, the verbal ranting was the more desirable form, at least my many little friends must have thought so. When it was just me going on about sea captains and mermaids, or war heroes and their many skirmishes, or the cowboys and their lady loves… ad nauseam… at least they weren’t pressured into learning lines, putting together backdrops and costumes and making fools of themselves in front of the neighborhood. Heck, I bet even the moms and dads we dragged into Fia’s back yard breathed a sigh of relief when a month went by without the hand-scribbled invitation failed to show up at their door.

But, I loved those days of sword fighting and deciding why one seaman had to die while another sailed away with the fair lady. (Who, by the way, was never me) The freedom to let those characters tell me their stories and I willingly, no greedily, took all of it in and pretended it was me who had the stories just waiting to escape. School was just a means of learning how to spell and create sentences, clumsily at first.

My teenage years were very difficult and school took a backseat to simply trying to deal with some unsavory episodes. I skipped a lot of school, yet I still managed somehow to hit the English class and do very well in it. I needed the knowledge for what I know now was a dream I had.

I remember shutting out the world and writing. It was called free verse poetry then, and I’ve got to assume it was trash because I was never trained or knew the rules. I simply let my thoughts flow and filled pages with dark fantasies.

My writing was a therapy of sorts perhaps, get it out and on paper, fill the book then destroy it before anyone could see the outpouring of anger and hurt. That did change though; slowly over time and I wish I’d kept those books. Those memories and scrawled pages meant so much to me then, I just wish I could sift through them now.

I met my sweetie during my final year in high school and honestly, he’s been my rock over the years. I think we kind of saved each other. Married too young, parents a few short years later, again too young, but we loved each other and managed to take care of each other and our children. During that time, I guess my muse gathered information and inspiration for later. LOL! That’s what it feels like now. Yet, late at night when the household was asleep, I would sit curled up on the couch with the same kind of notebook I’d been writing in for years and I’d slip into my erotic world.

I wrote BSDM pretty much exclusively back then, with the woman the dominant and some poor man (usually) the submissive. Sometimes it wasn’t a willing submission to begin with, but he always ended up more than happy to do as he was told, if only she’d let him climax. Sometimes he was allowed, often not, he was teased some more. Oh, I was such a harsh mistress.

I wrote like this for years. Clandestine, alone and destroying the books when they were filled. Over the years, I’ve wondered how many actual stories, or even books, I filled only to trash. How many ideas and characters?

It wasn’t until my kids were grown and gone that my writing dreams came back into my life. Oh, and it’s also when I graduated high school.

What, I didn’t mention that earlier? Oops!

Well, I didn’t and in hindsight, it’s something that tore at me for years. It’s difficult to push your children into doing well if you didn’t finish yourself. I never hid it from them, but I didn’t hide much from them as they were growing up.

It still surprised me when my kids and my husband decided it was time for mom to go back to school. Now, you can laugh and think about all those young guys I could ogle while studying trig, but that’s not how it happened. I got in touch with the school district who were more than helpful when it came to digging out my records. When they showed me the courses I would need to take if I actually went to school, I opted for another way… Please find me another way!

There was, and I’m surprised you didn’t hear the sigh of relief. There was just no way I was prepared to compete in a gym class with 17 year olds, no matter how much I knew and they didn’t. Correspondence is an amazing option and one I embraced with both arms and all of my psyche. The only course I didn’t have to take, and this broke my heart, was English, in any form. My hubby, lord love him, was such a help and encouragement. While taking history, he had oodles of cute quips for me. Things like, ‘Sweetie, you’re doing so well. Not surprising though since you were there for most of it.’ He did have his shoes on and the door open while he said this one. Man isn’t brilliant, but he’s not stupid either. LOL

It took me almost a year, but I did it and I had the most amazing grad party ever. All my closest friends and family got together and we partayed, like only those who have been around can partay!

What’s all this got to do with how I got published, you might ask. Well, I’ll tell you. Life and the misfortunes of our years leave us with such an amazing gift. Experience.

All the time I was studying and working on history or trigonometry or biology, my muse was busy plotting. Yup, the ugly little gnome has been crouched in the corner listening and chuckling, while he stores all those plot bunnies away for future use.

We got our first computer very shortly after this and you know, it was strange, I was really nervous about getting it. I knew, somewhere deep inside that when I got onto the internet my life was going to change dramatically. It was the same feeling I got when I saw my husband for the first time. I knew something amazing was about to happen.

I couldn’t have been more right. It took awhile, but I found my way to a group that was hosted in the Excite network called Erotica Writers Too. The woman who ran the thing called herself Aphrodite, an author of extremely flowery works who took a liking to me. She was a nice lady who thought that with some hard work and dedication, I had a chance of being published.

I never met Aphrodite. I never even knew her real name. She vanished one day; a rocky relationship among other things took her offline. I took over the group and wound up moving it twice before I finally had to call it a day. During that time, I met some wonderful people, one or two are still friends. Derek Musgrave comes to mind, fellow author and good friend.

For years, he and I urged each other on, shared editing chores and bounced ideas off each other about how to become published. I remember finding publishing sites online, and being so overwhelmed with the possibilities that I simply didn’t know where to begin. Guidelines—what were those? Contracts—I’d have to figure those out too. There just seemed to be so much I didn’t know, would never figure out and I desperately wanted to.

I also met my first publisher during this time. Roy Larkin, owner, editor, chief cook and bottle washer of Amatory Ink. He took me under his wing and while he declined my first submission, he showed me where I was going wrong and pointed me in the right direction. Somewhere on my hard drive I still have all of the emails and lessons, and man did I have some work to do.

All righty, that's it for the beginning of my journey here. If you're still awake and interested, join me next month on the 14th for the second part. I'd really love to hear how others made this amazing journey.



Wet Your Appetite - Kissing in the Rain

I'm not sure how this topic came to mind. Perhaps it's because the weather is supposed to be in the 90s today and I'm envisioning ice cubes and ways to stay cool. But I've always had a thing for kissing in the rain. Something about being out in the elements. From getting caught in a torrential downpour to an afternoon stroll in a warm summer rain - it can be great foreplay. A few of my favorite movies have a couple kissing in the rain:

The Notebook.
Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Sweet Home Alabama.

I find rain powerful, sexy, arousing. Lovers wet. Clothes tight against their skin, outlining the curves and hard lines of their bodies. Raindrops that fall against their faces as they kiss. Bodies slick. Wet. Erotic. Like I said, great foreplay that can lead to more.

I'll be wishing for some rain today.

What are some of your favorite movies with kissing in the rain?

~Ann Cory

Fucking Burned OUT!

Hello Readers,

Yeah its not an unusual heading for me but it may be a shock to some of you seeing this blog and expecting a little more tact but honestly, how else can I say I'm tired and want this year to end with such...PASSION!

So far I've attended two cons, finished probably 12 novellas, edited two full length novels, cranked out twenty radio shows (at least) and set up to finish the year, all in addition to the blogs, promotions, phone calls with assistant and new publicist, meetings with publisher, emails and all that jazz.

On top of this, I have still to barrel through one more full length novel (my own) to get that ready for either NY or smaller print publisher, organize a panel (you'll hear more about this soon) OH let's not forget the website stuff, blog updates and now I've taken on a new project with President Kelly Shibari. This is for pay. Which reminds me, I need to pick up a few new sites since I'm tired of being broke.

This is the life of a writer, folks. It's been a tough year, not good, not bad, just tough.

And no I'm NOT going to SEO this blog.

But I wouldn't do any other career if my life depended on it. Oh, except real estate which is another blog...


Writing New Things

My first menage story released this week...and I couldn't be happier. When I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago, she was shocked to hear I'd written a menage. She asked, what changed? When I asked what she meant, she said she couldn't imagine that, say, 2 years ago, I'd write a menage. Sure, I bought and read books with menages, but the fact I wrote one was a surprise to. She asked again, what changed?

I had to really think about that. Writing the menage wasn't odd--the story just came to me and I wrote it. I didn't think about the fact it had 2 heroes and a heroine. That was what the story called for. Just like the vampire series I'm currently working on--I was plotting out the next book, and had a lovely girl picked out for my hero. I worked out the plot points, but something nagged at me and things were not going well. I went back and forth on different aspects of the story and it finally hit me. My hero didn't want a girl...he had his eye on a man. Well, I wasn't expecting that. I don't write m/m--or at least had never submitted any for publication. The more I turned it over in my head and thought of the story with these two heroes, the more it fell into place. The story worked now. This story, this particularly character, didn't require a heroine. LOL

I wrote the menage and am writing the m/m because that is how the stories and characters came to me. Thinking of my friend's questions, though, I don't think I was ready to write these stories 2 years ago. Not that the subject matter was an issue, by any means--I read both types and enjoyed them immensely. I don't think I was confident in my writing years ago push the limits of what I was comfortable/used to writing. Now I am. I'm ready to go farther and write new things. And what a freeing feeling that is. :)

Now, speaking of new things--here's a short excerpt from my new release, All or Nothing.

Blurb: Two sexy men—her husband and his best friend—in her bed. Shannon couldn’t stop thinking about it, but can she let go of the doubts and go through with it?

Shannon is happily married and very much in love with her husband, Nate. Her feelings are thrown for a loop when his best friend, Zac, moves in temporarily. His intense stares and naughty whispers about a menage ignite something inside Shannon, but she says nothing to Nate. After all, Zac will be moving on soon, and there’s no reason to upset her husband over nothing.

But Zac keeps pushing, and Nate doesn’t seem all that mad at the possibility of a ménage with Zac. Can her marriage survive if the three of them go to bed together? Can it survive if they don’t?

And here's the excerpt. :)

“Hey, you looked like you could use another cold one.” She held out one of the beers and smiled—a forced smile, but at least it was a smile.

Without a word, Zac took the bottle from her. Shannon sucked in a shaky breath when his fingers brushed hers. God, what was it about this man that made her feel like a gawky teenager? He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. She struggled not to stare, but couldn’t pull her gaze from his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Who’d of thought that would be sexy?

Shannon licked her lips. “So, how are you doing?”

He tilted his head to the side and studied her a moment. Shannon resisted fidgeting as his gaze swept from her face downwards. Her cheeks heated when it lingered on her breasts. Mortification filled her as her nipples peaked under her sundress. The corners of Zac’s mouth quirked up as he lifted his gaze back to her face.

“I’m fine.” He straightened and took a step forward.

Barely an inch separated them. Shannon focused on keeping her breath even, but refused to back away. She wouldn’t let him know he intimidated her. No way. She tilted her chin up to look into his eyes. The amusement in his dark brown eyes made her grit her teeth.

“What about you, Shannon?” Zac slid a finger from her shoulder to her wrist. “How are you doing?”

“I-I—” She stammered as his fingers danced over her pulse. “Stop.”

He moved even closer until her breasts touched his chest. The linen of her dress abraded the pert tips, and Shannon bit back a groan.

“Zac,” she pleaded and despite her resolve, stepped back.

“Shannon.” He moved with her and circled her wrist with his hand.

“You can’t do this.” She glanced around, and relief filled her when she saw no one was even paying attention to them.

“Do what?” he murmured.

“You can’t touch me like this and look at me like…”

“Like what? How am I looking at you, darlin’?”

Shannon’s stomach clenched at the warm tone and endearment. Stop, she scolded herself. He’s your husband’s best friend.

“You know damned well how you’re looking at me,” she snapped. “And it needs to stop. I’m married to your best friend, for God’s sake. Nate would flip out if he found out you—” She stopped as a laugh rumbled in Zac’s chest.

“You don’t know your husband very well,” he said with an amused shake of his head.

She yanked her arm away from his caressing hand. “You’re wrong. I know Nate, and I know all about what you two used to do. He told me all about it. The sexual games, the sharing women. But that’s the past. I’m Nate’s wife, not some girl the two of you picked up at a club.”

Zac didn’t say anything. He simply stared at her. Shannon squirmed under the intense look.

“Just stop, okay? I can’t—” she drew in a deep breath, “I don’t want to ruin your friendship with Nate. It means a lot to him. I know that, but I can’t deal with this from you.”

Still, he didn’t respond. He simply watched her with a little half smile. Damn it all, did he not get it?

She turned to walk away. She scanned the large yard and froze when she saw Nate watching her from where he stood near the dock. Oh shit. He was too far way to see his expression. Had he seen her arguing with Zac? Had he seen Zac touching her?

She felt Zac behind her before he even spoke. His hard warmth pressed against her back. Unbidden, heat settled in the pit of her belly. He rested his hands on her shoulders and leaned down. His breath whispered across her cheek as he spoke in her ear.

“He’s picturing us together, right now. He’s imagining what it’d be like to watch me take you. To push that sexy little dress up to your hips and sink into your sweetness.”

The heat in her stomach unfurled and spread, right between her thighs. Shannon pressed them together and wrestled to find something—anything—to say.

“And the thoughts, the pictures in his head, don’t piss him off, darlin’. I guarantee you, he’s rock solid imagining what I’d do you. What we’d do to you.” His fingers tightened, digging deliciously into her flesh. “Are you thinking about it, Shannon? Can you imagine what Nate and I would do to you?”


Cross Dressing lessons learned from DragonCon

For those who have been following me, you know I was at DragonCon this past weekend in Atlanta, GA with Kayelle Allen, Kiernan Kelly, Ally Blue and Fiona Zedde. We had our panel on Exploring the Final Taboo in Erotic Romance (read, gay romances, primarily) and had a wonderful turnout despite DragonCon's difficulties which shall be blogged about in my White Wolf Blog later and again at Radio Dentata.

You also know I showed up for our panel drunk/drinking scotch and dressed completely as best I could as a woman.

I learned a few things dressed as a woman.

First off, I LOVE thigh high stockings but being a man I cannot easily wear the pair I bought becuase they're for a woman no larger than 160 lbs. I'm 178ish. So they stayed up, but without my garter belt that I outgrew...I had to pull them up repeatedly.

Second, shopping for women's clothes is a pain. I think it was either here, or at where I talked about the size issue. I'm NOT a size 0 and NEVER will be. NEVER was. But I'm looking at clothes and realizing that I have to buy a 1X because I"m 6'0. But if i know the right places to shop, I can go in and shop without having to feel "like a fat woman" or a wierdo man.

Third, let's talk about high heels. I LOVE them on a woman. I LOVE how some of your gender can just motor along the sidewalk in six inch stillettos like you're wearing nothing. Others of your kind..can barely walk barefoot. Guess which way I fall...

That's right. Four inch high heels with a square heel looked REALLY cute on me. Kayelle and Kiernan told me so LOL! But, I managed. My ankles hurt the next day and steps were a PAIN in the ass.

Next up, underwear. I read somewhere recently (perhaps Crossdresser HEaven) that a LOT of Cross dressing men want to really be SLUTTY WHORES and that's how we picture ourselves. The reality is, I'm 6'0 and 178ish. And I'm pretty toned. and NOT curvy. OR smooth. AND I don't generally shave my face. AND I don't do demure, even when I'm submissive to my Dominants. Neither do most men for that matter, unless they're the pasty white geek type OR they're BDSM people already.

BUT I chose the thong that came with my chemise. It's the first underclothing I've worn all weekend since I normally wear a kilt. Realized I liked the thong. Satin. And because it came with my 1X/2X chemise, it fit. JUST like it should, including the extra bits.

Let's not even go over make up. Mainly because I made Kiernan's minion do my makeup and she just applied blush, subtle eyeliner and lip gloss (which probably came off in between sips of scotch) and then I put on my glasses.

I already knew finding clothes for women was such a pain, but now I've experienced it!


Happy Birthday to Me

Yep. Today is my birthday. I am now 46 years old and let me tell you, it takes some bravery to admit that in a society that generally admires youth. Still, lots of older women have made their mark on the world and I see no reason why being on the wrong (or right) side of 40 is a detriment. For example, what man would turn down a date with Halle Berry, Jennifer Lopez or Heather Locklear.
Loreena McKennitt, my favorite singer, was born in 1957.
Sandra Bullock: 1964
Michelle Pfeiffer is also over 50.

I'm thinking - and hoping - that the days of youth equaling beauty and age equaling hag are over. Youth is, certainly, beautiful. But age also carries it's own brand of beauty - a little less exuberant perhaps, but more elegant and graceful. I find that I no longer yearn for my youth. In truth, I no longer yearn for tomorrow either. I've learned to simply enjoy this moment in time as fully and completely as possible.


Family Feuds: The Story Behind The Story

This is the story behind my most recent M/M story "Sorry Charlie" in the "Friction" anthology at Total-E-Bound. I enjoy finding out what inspired a story and how it was created. I thought you might, too.

In it, Charlie is trying to reconcile with his father. They've been estranged for 17 years, since he came out of the closet.

Jonathan, his long time partner has a lot of misgivings about this for many reasons. One, he's still hurt at being rejected. Two, Charlie's ignoring him and their relationship as he's focused on getting along with his father. Primarily, however, he doesn't trust Charlie's father. He's afraid Charlie's father will reject them again and end up doing irreparable damage to the man he loves.

Charlie and Jonathan almost break up because of this stress. Charlie can't understand why Jonathan's so against his reunion with his beloved father. Jonathan should be happy for him or at least supportive. Instead, he's acting like a jealous child. He really can't take this right now. He has enough stress.

Meanwhile, Jonathan feels left out. Charlie barely remembers he's alive. He's always distracted and annoyed. Since Charlie's dad has been back in their lives, Charlie seems to care less about him. It doesn't help that Charlie's family wasn't nice to him, either. His feelings aside, he thinks Charlie's father is just using him. Now that his other children have moved away and Charlie's step mother is deceased and he's alone, he wants Charlie to be with him. Even if the man is genuine, the rest of their family still aren't talking to them.

That's the set up.

Now, for the story behind the story.

Unfortunately, family feuds aren't pretty and unfortunately, many real family's have them. The only place they aren't painful and destructive is in fiction.

My father and I didn't speak for at least two years. After my parents divorced I elected to stay with Dad. We were buddies. I adored him. But he hated my boyfriend. Then he caught me talking to my aunt (I was allowed to have contact with my mom and her family by court decree) and he went ballistic. We fought. I mean really fought. And he kicked me out. Or maybe I got mad and left. After this many years that part of it is blurry. I went to live with my mother. Finally, my grandma (Dad's mom) stepped in and convinced us to reconcile.It wasn't easy at first but I'm so very glad we got through it.

That wasn't my last family feud, however. The next lasted much longer than a couple years. In fact, it's not over. I don't know that it will ever be completely.

This time it was with my in laws. Without going into the gory details, my husband's father and his second family (my husband's mother was his dad's first wife) disowned us. His step-mother swore we were "dead" to them. Only after she died and his half-siblings moved away is his father beginning to reconcile. This "feud" has lasted at least twenty years.

When I was brainstorming for story ideas that would be logical and emotional for a gay couple, this situation was uppermost in my mind and heavy on my heart. Unfortunately, it's not that uncommon. Especially not when step families are involved. A lot of jealousy seems to be involved.

I've lived through both Charlie's and Jonathan's side of this situation. I've felt both sets of emotions. It's quite painful and emotional whichever part is played.

Sometimes writing is cathartic. Occasionally it even makes me cry or chuckle.

This was the inspiration for "Sorry Charlie".

I can't say that writing this story has completely healed me. I haven't told my husband about it. I haven't shared with him my misgivings and distrust about this reconciliation although I think he can tell. I've stayed mum. I said too much years ago.

I hope it works out for us in real life just as Charlie and Jonathan hope it works out for them.

So far so good.

Still, it feels a lot like watching a tropical storm in the Atlantic (when you live in a hurricane zone which I do). You watch and wait as storms start. Sometimes they downgrade to nothing or go in a different directions. But sometimes, they grow strong and even reformulate and come after you.

I hope you never suffer a family feud. If you do, I hope yours won't last long and doesn't leave scars.

Life is too short and too precious.

Sorry Charlie by Ashley Ladd

Charlie's dad wants to make up after a 17-year family feud...

Charlie's overjoyed, excited, and nervous as hell that his father is finally accepting his sexual orientation and speaking to him after a 17-year family feud but he can't understand why his long-term partner Jonathan is acting jealous and clingy, when he should be happy for him or at least supportive.

Jon's afraid Charlie's family will hurt him again and he doesn't know if he can mend Charlie's heart if it shatters a second time or stand by and watch while Charlie sets himself up for more heartbreak.

Excerpt from Sorry Charlie (in the Friction anthology)

Search your feelings. You know I’m your father. The words rang in Charlie Lang’s head. For the past seventeen years, he’d wished anyone but Asa Charles Lang was his dad, even Darth Vader. His father made Vader look like a pussycat. At least, he’d wanted Luke once he’d found out about him.

Asa had been there at the moment of Charlie’s birth. He’d raised him ‘til he was seven when Charlie’s parents split. That’s when Asa had stolen off in the night to escape his debts, and according to Charlie’s mother, Gail, all his responsibilities to them. He’d found a new wife, made new kids, and only saw Charlie every few years for a measly day or two at a time.

Still, it hadn’t been too bad ‘til Charlie had come out of the closet at age twenty-two and announced he was gay. Then Asa, his stepmom, Sharon, and his half-siblings had disowned him. They’d declared him dead to them.

The thought of running into them on the street had his partner, Jonathan, freaking out.

Now Sharon and a half-brother were dead and buried, and his other sibs had moved away, leaving Asa alone. Now, he was ready to forgive Charlie and rebuild their relationship.

Charlie rubbed the half-day’s growth of beard on his chin and shook his head. This was a good thing. Right?

“I can’t do this with you right now,” he told Jonathan. “I have to meet my dad.” Charlie stood tall and didn’t allow himself to flinch—not outwardly anyway. He also didn’t let Jonathan’s pretty-boy looks or his pout sway him from today’s outing.

Jonathan glared and scrunched his nose. He threw down his towel like a gauntlet, leaving him naked. “When will you have time for me? This man abandoned you for seventeen years, trashed you to everyone you knew and made our lives hell. And now, you run every time he calls. I don’t get it. Explain it to me.”

Ashley Ladd


How many can play?

Sex is sex no matter how you do it, right? But there's sex and then there's.....interesting sex. Two can play, three can play (try the board game, Menage, to spice up your parties) or four can play. And that's the premise of my story FOURPLAY, about a very interesting Scottish vacation.

Here's what Night Owl review had to say about it:

Desiree Holt absolutely paints an exciting portrait of the explosive chemistry between Michael, Holly and Duncan during the week they’re together on the Isle of Skye. A little nervous of all the non-stop action, Holly is having an amazing time. She gets even more excited as she realizes something new about the man she loves. But just when we think the fan in the room isn’t cool enough to put out our flames, we’re introduced to yet another steamy partner named Jim. The end of the week comes all too quickly and Michael makes a surprising announcement. You’re going to love this one!

She loved the ménage her lover, Michael Collins had introduced her to, but now here they were, spending a week at Duncan MacLaughlin’s cottage in Scotland and Holly Martin wasn’t sure she was ready for the surprise he promised her. No details, just a wide grin. The surprise turned out to be Jim Grainger, a friend of Michael and Duncan’s, who was as much into a foursome as the other men. With all that testosterone flowing around her, and three very gorgeous and sexy men to play games with, Holly suddenly realized she loved a sexy numbers game.

Michael leaned back against the counter, observing with interested eyes, as Duncan peeled Holly’s sweater over her head and tossed it to him. The big man’s breath hissed through his teeth.
“Your tits are just as gorgeous as ever, Holly mine. Nice and plump, with rosy nipples that tempt a man’s mouth.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on each of them. “I have some fine jewellery for them later on.”
“Take off the skirt, Holly,” Michael told her, “and give Duncan a view he’s been waiting for.”
Hands trembling slightly, Holly unzipped her skirt, shimmied out of it and tossed it to Michael to put with her sweater. Then, knowing what he expected, she turned around,. spread her legs and bent over to grab her ankles.
“Oh, that’s a very excellent sight.” Duncan’s voice was thick with lust. ”Such a tempting cunt and a tempting asshole. I don’t know which one to plunder first.”
His hands trailed over her wet slit, pinching her clit lightly, then dragging the moisture back to her anus, lubricating it just enough to insert the tip of his finger. “Very tight. Oh, yes, this will be too fine. Stand up now, lass. I have something for you.”
He picked up a narrow collar from the table and linked it around her neck. “You know this means you’re ours for the week,” he murmured.
Holly nodded. Whoever would have the thought she’d embrace the D/s life as wholeheartedly as she had, but Michael was such a strong, caring Dom it has been easy to tumble into it with him.
“Whatever you ask or tell, I’ll do.” A thrill of excitement ran through her.
Duncan placed a kiss on her forehead. “She’s well trained, Michael. Even better than the last time we were together.”
“She’s made for the life,” he replied.

Buy it at Total-e-bound


On CNN this morning I hear... "Good news for a bad economy- increasing sales reported for men's' underwear". Apparently, a study shows that when the economy is bad men don't buy underwear. (I doubt they buy undies anyway- they have wives and mothers who do that for them, but I digress) The economy is recovering, using this barometer, according to the news, because underwear is flying off the shelves.
Don't know about you but I AM RELIEVED. I am, however, a bit concerned about the person/people who think up these ways of monitoring the economy but I am more concerned about those worn and tattered tighty whities out there. Phew- thankfully everything is on the up-and-up!
Speaking of "up"....... yummmmmmm