Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Well it is!
Check out my livejournal for MMoM ficlets staring the subs and Doms of The Hammer Club.
smut fixes everything
Now on to Art and Snowflakes. This will be out at Amber Allure on May 26!
Jaxsom tilted his head and lifted his face to the sky, lips open, the flakes falling like icy kisses from the fairies. How pretty. He hadn't been this far north in, what, a decade? More?
He'd taken eight canvasses to Shel and had twelve thousand dollars in his pocket, and had decided, suddenly, to get on a train. Four days later he was at the border, heading up to see the house his mother had been born in, died in.
He really needed to buy a new coat, if he was going to stay more than a couple hours, though.
He sat at the bus stop, looking across the street at the house. Someone had painted it green. A nice green of lily pads and the light falling behind a frog's eyes. Jax approved.
The windows on the second story had blinds down, instead of the curtains. That had been his room -- the bedroom facing the street -- and he'd had dark crimson curtains. He'd loved the way the late afternoon sun poured in and turned his bedroom bloody.
He wanted to go up, knock, see who lived there now, but he couldn't. He knew better. People didn't get it. So he sat and looked, watched as the lights came on inside and the sun went down outside.
God, it was cold.
The bus came lumbering up the street like a large, lazy bear, pulling to a stop in front of him with a low growl and a loud hiss.
He stood up, pondering getting on, watching the people get off, all bundled in their coats. He glanced along the windows, a handsome face catching his gaze. Jax tilted his head. Whoa. That looked like Dave, but older.
Dave... mmm... the man knew how to make him fly.
They'd played hard, once upon a time. Dave had amazing hands, but Jax's art had been calling him and he'd gotten lost, a little bit.
For, like, a decade.
The man on the bus turned his head to look out the window, eyes looking right into his. Dave's eyes. Shockingly blue. Direct. Intense.
His lips parted. Oh. Oh, wow.
He could feel the heat of the sun as it rose, though, burning off the clouds, and he knew the day was starting in earnest; and while he didn't really care if he angered the dragon council by not showing up on time for his first day as director of the Dragon-Human Relations Department, he did care about having to stand through another four- or five-hour lecture on the subject.
The council had some long-winded bastards sitting on it. Grunk could vouch for that.
He circled his way into the city, trying to ignore the way the air always felt different here than it did back home at his cave deep in the mountains. Everything was fresh and cold in the mountains, the patterns of the wind easy to predict, warm streams of air coming naturally from the different levels in the ground below. In the city there was nothing but heat and updrafts, the air smelling of humans and buildings, of steel and concrete.
He shifted, never as at ease as a human as when in his dragon form. The change itself was easy enough, for all he didn't do it very often, but he was more sensitive to the weather in this form, his ears and eyes didn't work as well, and he didn't like feeling small. Though, he had been told that he was large for a human.
It seemed to take forever to get the shirt on, the buttons feeling impossibly small to his fingers. When he finally got it all on, the suit fit well enough, even if the tie felt like it was going to strangle this shit out of him. Who on this green earth had decided that these things were a good idea? Surely even humans found the tie uncomfortable, if not the rest of the outfit. He felt like a youngling, playing dress-up.
He ran his fingers through his hair -- because the humans were uptight about things like having one's hair lying flat against one's head and not having dirt smudges on one's face -- and headed to the elevator where he took the moving box to the thirteenth floor. He didn't like the moving boxes -- flying was so much more efficient -- but apparently flying in and out of windows was frowned upon in the city.
Hand on the door now, Grunk sighed and turned the handle into his new prison. Bright eyes -- blue, then green, then violet -- flashed at him, a lovely, little lean lad staring at him from a seat behind a little desk, his long white hair flowing feely. "Good morning?"
Grunk was utterly surprised. Maybe the job was already filled, and this had all been a giant hoax, a joke with him as the butt.
What? A dragon could dream.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Y'all, I'll be honest. I'm traveling. I'm exhausted. I'm not organized enough to have done a pre-post write-up. I do have a book coming out from Changeling Press this month, called Opportunity Knocks. It's a m/m demon lover story, born of the flash fiction challenges on the Changeling website. Smokin' hot and spanky.
Will you go check it out?
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
I'm Tara Lain. I write the Beautiful Boys of Romance. Just a few days ago, at the RT Booklovers Convention in Kansas City, i was honored to be one of the panelists on the first ever MM romance workshop to be held at RT. The panel, called Man Oh Man! Why Woman Love MM Romance, was chaired by the fab Belinda McBride, and included the amazing Amy Lane, Damon Suede, and Z.A. Maxfield. The panel was well covered in the USA Today Happy Ever After Blog. Take a look -- http://www.usatoday.com/story/happyeverafter/2013/05/04/rt-booklovers-convention-2013/2134535/
Designed for readers who might be curious about the genre, we found that most of the packed house were readers who had already read MM romances and came to show support--and maybe to help them figure out why they liked it so much! LOL
In our panel we talked about that very thing. Here were some of the points:
- While MF romance tends to have clearly defined gender roles, MM doesn't which is fun and flexible for both the reader and the writer
- The flexibility of MM relationships allows the writer to bend gender as i do often in my books and
- Male archetypes, when brought together, can create a mighty clash. Watching them try to smooth that warring spirit in order to find an HEA makes for a great story
- We didn't discuss this at the workshop, but another thought I considered later is that most MF romances have a lot of biological and procreative imperative. Two men have no such imperative so the relationship is more about choice which is inherently romantic.
- Of course, there's also the fact that woman love men and two is better. LOL
The boys from SAH: Ben went to a tattoo parlour to get a double piercing for Ben in one of his nipples and it was hot and it was kinky and going along just fine. Then Ben met the two men who own and run the tatttoo parlour. Rose, a big stud of a man, and Thorne, a little skinny guy. And Rose is the sub. Ben was intrigued. So was I ;)
How fun to write a quick little short story featuring them. Maybe the two of them going home and having hot, kinky sex after the they finish out their shifts on the day Ben and Lukas go in. So I write the story and that's that, right?
Only, it wasn't.
Rose and Thorne insisted I write their beginning. Being the accommodating sort (at least when it comes to the men who live in my head -- I've learned it's dangerous if I'm not) I went ahead and wrote their beginning. Every Rose Has His Thorne (I'll admit to being a bit of a pun slut when it comes to titles. Titling books is one of the hardest things about writing them - for me, anyway - so if a pun comes to mind first, that's often what's gonna go in the title).
There we go, I thought. They've had their beginning now, along with their short, smutty story. Only, you know that wasn't the end of it. Before I knew it, I had three novellas along with the short, smutty story written featuring Rose and Thorne.
Tending to Rose is now out!
Rose and Thorne are back, taking their relationship to the next level, even if Rose thinks Thorne's a little crazy for the lifestyle he wants to lead.
As Rose gears up for competitive bodybuilding, Thorne worries about what Rose is doing to his body. When Rose passes out after the competition, Thorne knows he's right to worry and he's determined to make sure Rose never does anything like it again.
Rose wants to contribute, though, especially when he finds out Thorne wants to open his own tattoo and piercing parlor. Can Thorne convince his lover that Rose is worth more to him than any purse Rose could win, and that what they do in the bedroom is not only not weird, but nobody's business but their own?
The third novella in the Rose and Thorne Series -- Keeping Sir Thorne -- and the short smutty story -- Swinging Along -- will be out later this year.
smut fixes everything