Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Wednesday Briefs: No Way Out #23

Happy Hump Day, my friends! Hope that everyone's week is going well! If it's Wednesday, must be time for some flash fiction, right?

As you may recall from last week, Randy had a heart attack, luckily before Shy had to carry out his "generous gift" to the men of the club. I know, you're all heartbroken, right? Well, this week is the aftermath. What happens to Shy now? Find out in this week's chapter of No Way Out. And don't forget to see what the other Briefers are doing. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

No Way Out #23

Time began to move in funny ways. Sometimes it stretched out, like pulling on taffy. People moved about Shy in slow motion. And then sometimes it jerked and pulled and passed without his being aware of what happened.

He sat in the eye of the storm, his mind devoid of thought. Nothing made sense. Nothing. The cries of “Do something” and “Call 9-1-1!” faded. The only constant was Randy, who lay on the floor, unmoving. So Shy sat where he was, and also didn’t move, for he’d not been told he could, so he wouldn’t.

By the time the paramedics arrived with the stretcher, someone had dressed Shy in a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt and removed his cock ring, freeing his numb cock. But that didn’t seem to matter, or did it? The pants were too big and the crotch hung to his knees, but he didn’t care. His eyes were fixed on Randy, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

But his lips never moved.

He watched the paramedics carefully, although what they were actually doing, he couldn’t say. None of it made any sense. All of it was gibberish.

When they loaded Randy onto the stretcher and began to walk him from the room, Shy automatically rose and followed.

“Where are you going?” one of them asked.

“With you.” That seemed obvious. At least Shy thought so.

The man shook his head, but he never paused, and Shy simply kept walking after them. He had to go. That’s what he was meant to do. If he didn’t, Randy would be pissed, and he knew it.

Then time jumped and suddenly he found himself in a room, like an office, with two men. One was the man who’d told Randy to leave Shy alone. The other seemed familiar too. The owner of the club. Shy sat on a small couch; the two men sat in chairs by the desk.

“I know he wanted to go, but that wasn’t possible,” Blankenship was saying.

“I know, I know.” Bobby, that’s his name, Shy remembered, ran a hand through his closed-cropped grey hair. “Damn, what a mess.”

“He brought it on himself.”

“Yeah, I know that too.”

“We have to do something about...”

Shy raised his head. Him? Were they talking about him? Must be. They were both looking directly at him.

“Has he got family?” Blankenship wanted to know.

“Only Grant, God help him.”

They fell silent, while Shy’s mind kicked around the idea of family for a few seconds, but came up empty. The concept was too alien to him to dwell on.

Shy began to replay the scene again, saw Randy fall to the ground, watched the escalating panic, like he was watching a video or something. It still made no sense. Would they take him to Randy? He should be there when Randy woke, or there would be hell to pay.

He’d have to apologize, and Randy’d be mad. But maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

He just had to go, before it was too late. Before Randy realized he wasn’t there.

Why didn’t they understand that? He glanced down at his lap. His hands were twisting together without him seeming to do it, so he focused on them, on stretching his fingers out and then meshing his hands again, like a human puzzle.

Randy had a puzzle in his den. Shy had been curious; he’d picked it up and twisted it around, playing with the colors until he aligned them perfectly, one color to each side of the cube. But when he’d proudly showed Randy what he’d done, Randy had slapped the puzzle from his hands. And then he’d spanked Shy.

Shy exhaled a long breath and looked up again.

“Does Grant have any family that can take him?”

“Don’t think so,” Bobby replied.

“I’d like to go home now.”

Until both men stared at him, Shy hadn’t realized he’d spoken, that those were his words. Suddenly, he realized that’s what he needed to do. “Please,” he added, almost forgetting his manners.

The men exchanged glances, although Shy didn’t understand why there was a problem. He needed to go home. He had to make the house ready. Randy wouldn’t be long, and if he came home and things were not taken care of, there’d be hell to pay.

 Bobby sighed and shook his head. He slammed his closed fist onto the top of his desk. Blankenship jumped, but Shy never reacted. “I don’t see we have much choice. He can’t very well stay here.”

“I could take him home with me...” Blankenship began. Bobby vehemently shook his head.

“I wouldn’t open that particular can of worms. Besides, I think being in familiar surroundings will do him more good.”

“I still think he should be with someone,” Blankenship insisted.

Bobby came around the desk and knelt before Shy. “Do you have any friends, Shy?” he asked softly. “Someone you can stay with?”

Friends? Shy shook his head. “I need to go home, please,” he repeated politely.

“You know that Grant is a... monster.” Why did Blankenship sound so... distressed, Shy wondered. “How can we take him back there?”

“We have no choice. Shy’s an adult. He’s free to do as he wishes.”

“Do you know what he was going to do? Do you?”

“I heard.” Bobby groaned again and rubbed his face with both hands. “Oh damn, this is so hard.”

Hard? Why was anything hard, Shy wondered.

He had to go home. That was easy, not hard. If he didn’t, then things would get hard. Then he’d get punished. He began to tremble at the thought.

Blankenship moved onto the couch beside Shy, laid his arm about his shoulder. “Shhh, shhh, it’s all right, everything’s all right, Shy. I’ll take you home.”

Home... home... Yes, that’s where he needed to be.

But just as he thought that, another idea entered his brain, and without stopping to think, he spoke the word aloud.


to be continued

Now check out the rest of the Wednesday Briefers and see what they're up to!

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Virtual Book Tour: The Matrix and the Alice Books

Please welcome author Voice Mihnea Simandan, who is going to tell us a little bit about himself, and about his new release, The Matrix and the Alice Books. At each stop on this tour, Voice will be awarding to one randomly drawn engaging commenter a copy of The Rage of a New Ancestor, a collection of short stories set in Asia. Voicu is one of the contributors to the volume. A Grand Prize of a $10 GC will also be awarded to one commenter during the tour.The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. So get your wit on and comment often! Also, if you want to know where the other tour stops are, go here.

Here are a few questions that Voicu has answered about himself (author has supplied the questions, as well)

Hi! Would you tell us a little bit about yourself? J

I was born in 1978 in Arad, a small city in western Transylvania, Romania, in Eastern Europe. My father is a journalist and an author with tens of books of non-fiction and poetry published under his name. In 2002, I moved to Thailand to work as a secondary school teacher and continue my graduate studies. Now I live with my Thai wife in Bangkok where I teach Language Arts and Social Studies at an international school.

Do you have anything you would like to say to your readers?

I would like to quote what Morpheus told Neo in The Matrix, “Neo, sooner or later you’re going to realize, just as I did, that there’s a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path.” Regardless of your dreams and ambitions, just wanting to do something is not enough. Getting down to doing it and facing the challenges life puts in your path is a journey we all have to take in order to become successful.

Can you tell us, in your own words not the book description, a little about your book?

The book that I’m virtually touring now is an intertextual study of the film The Matrix and the books Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll. The initial research for the book was done as part of my two-year master’s degree studies in Bangkok. I have probably seen The Matrix trilogy over one hundred times and having the book in my hands has brought my longtime obsession with The Matrix and the Alice Books to a satisfactory conclusion. Now it’s time for the world to read it and dive down the rabbit hole and explore a world where the boundary between dreams and reality is blurred by some of the most remarkable and memorable fictional characters ever to appear on the pages of a book and on the screen of a TV.

If you are self-published, why did you decide to take this route of publishing?

My very first book, The Spirit of Medieval Japan, appeared under the publishing wing of an NGO, while dozens of my non-fiction articles and short stories were published in various academic journals and anthologies. Apart from public exposure, there was no monetary benefit. Among the books I have chosen to self-publish, The Matrix and the Alice Books has been the most successful financially. As a writer, to be paid for your writing is a huge reward. Now that one can read an e-book on an increasing score of gadgets, I think self-publishing is a positive way for writers to make their work available to a very large section of the public. And if the writer did their job properly, then they might even see a return on their investment.

Is there an author or book that influenced you or your writing in any way growing up or as an adult?

The world Lewis Carroll created in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass had a great impact on me and, as a child, I often found myself slipping down my own rabbit hole under a pillow-made castle, joining Alice in her wonderful adventures. Jules Verne’s adventure novels, especially Around the World in 80 Days, instilled in me a strong desire to see the world and Verne’s great explorers, men of arms and scientists, soon became my heroes in whose footsteps I hoped to follow. Now, in my mid-30s, after having published a postgraduate study about the Alice books and having made a new life for myself in Asia, miles away from my home country in Eastern Europe, I do believe that the books I grew up with have made me the man I am today.

Are you reading anything interesting at the moment? If so, what is it?

I’ve recently bought The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell, a novel set in 18th century Japan. I had discovered this British author via Cloud Atlas, a 2012 science fiction film directed and produced by Lana and Andy Wachowski, an adaptation of Mitchell’s 2004 novel of the same title. As a fan of The Matrix, I follow closely the Wachowskis and have always found their choice of topics to suit my taste too. This also proved to be true in the case of David Mitchell’s works.

Favorite color?

My favourite colour is blue, the kind of dark blue you get in the “real world” of The Matrix where the characters are unplugged. I am also attracted by the shade of green distinctive to a monochrome monitor, something I can relate to as I am old enough to remember what the first IBM computers looked like. Green is a colour that has great significance in The Matrix as it symbolizes the world of the machines. The Matrix digital rain, with its falling green code representing the virtual reality of the Matrix, is also on the background of the cover of my intertextual study The Matrix and the Alice Books.

Do you have any upcoming appearances that you would like to share with us?

For this academic school year (2013/2014), I have been invited to a few international schools in Bangkok to speak to their students about The Ironman. A Play, a book for children I wrote and published in 2009.

Can we expect more novels from you in 2013-2014?

For 2013, I’m planning to release the following titles: Riding the Cylinder, three science fiction short stories set in Thailand; Taking the Seas, a book of adventure stories for the young ones; Angelee, a collection of short stories and, of course, my pièce de résistance would clearly be The Buddha Head, a suspense thriller set in Ayutthaya in Thailand.

At the same time, I am at various stages of completion with three other books of non-fiction which have the working titles of Thailand from A to Z: Sports, Activities, and Martial Arts; 10 Destinations In & Out of Bangkok, and Archery from A to Z. Also, I have started work on The Ancient Sword, the second novel in The Ayutthaya Trilogy,” which started with The Buddha Head.

What do you do when you are not writing?

In recent years, my life has been a struggle to manage my time in such a way that I allocate enough time for my writing, but also my two other passions, archery and aikido. As these are more than just two ways to relax, I do them regularly even on the occasions when I feel tired from a day teaching at work or typing away on my laptop.

To relax in the real sense of the word, I sort and catalogue my collection of coins, banknotes, postcards, and pins which I have amassed during my travels in Asia. 

The Matrix and the Alice Books
by Voicu Mihnea Simandan



The Matrix and the Alice Books presents aspects of intertextuality in three primary sources: the script of the motion picture The Matrix written by directors Andy and Larry Wachowski, and the books Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll.

Intertextuality is a set of relations with other texts, which can include direct quotations, allusions, literary conventions, imitation, parody and unconscious sources amongst others. In The Matrix there are few explicit references to Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass.

This book by Voicu Mihnea Simandan presents both the explicit references and the less direct ones, giving evidence from primary and secondary sources. In doing so, it makes use of a literary construction developed from Gérard Genette’s structuralist theory of transtextuality as a framework to present how a web of intertextual relationships is clearly formed between the Alice books and The Matrix.



“In The Matrix, Neo comes from the Oracle a bit disappointed with what he had just found out, but Morpheus tries to show him the way: “Neo, sooner or later, you’re going to realize, just as I did, that there’s a difference between knowing the path... and walking the path...” Alice wakes up only when she is ready to face the real world, just as Neo has to understand that, in order to defeat the agents and end the war, he has to face his demons and take control of his own life. […]

In The Matrix, Cypher confesses his regrets to Neo over getting unplugged. “You know, I know what you’re thinking, because right now I’m thinking the same thing. Actually, I’ve been thinking it ever since I got here... Why, oh why, didn’t I take... the blue pill?” The repeated phrase shows hesitation and the intensity of Cypher’s emotions. Neither Alice nor Cypher understand the new world they have entered, and both have second thoughts about remaining there. But, while Alice tries to unlock the secret of wonderland and eventually is able to control it, just as Neo does in the end, Cypher betrays his crew members in a desperate move to be reinserted into the Matrix.

Despite an ever-changing environment and logic, both Alice and Neo continue to deal with the challenges that beset them. No prior experience in wonderland or the Matrix can teach them about what to expect in their next undertaking; nevertheless they manage to get through each encounter, ready to face new situations.”



AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Voicu Mihnea Simandan is a Romanian writer and freelance journalist who was born in 1978 in Arad, a small city in Transylvania. He has published short stories, non-fiction, and books for children. He has been calling Thailand home since 2002 and he has been a member of the Bangkok Writers' Guild since 2009 and a member of AP Writers since 2012. He is now teaching Language Arts and Social Studies at an international school in Bangkok. His upcoming debut novel, The Buddha Head, a suspense thriller set in Thailand, is scheduled for publication in late 2013. He loves archery, martial arts and travelling.

Author links:






Buy links:

Kindle US:

Kindle UK:

Monday, September 23, 2013

Guest Blogger: Chris T. Kat and Hunter's Hunt

Please welcome my good friend and fellow author Chris T. Kat once again! She has her first release with Torquere Press, Hunter's Hunt, and she's going to talk about that, and about ten things she didn't know about being a published author. Chris, I made us some pfeffernusse. Here, help yourself, I'll go get some coffee to go with them.

10 Things I Didn't Know About Becoming a Published Author

Julie, thank you very much for having me on your blog! Torquere Press published my new release Hunter's Hunt on September 18th. (Well, you knew that already, because, dear readers, Julie was so kind as to beta Hunter's Hunt for me. ^_^)
Even though Hunter's Hunt is my 8th published book, it's the first with Torquere Press and I'm very excited about it. I also still feel like a newbie in the business. After all, I’ve only been published for 18 months.
Here are my Top Ten Things I Didn't Know About Becoming a Published Author:

1.      All the forms I had to fill out for taxes! OMG! I don't like paperwork at all and then I had to figure out how to apply for an ITIN number (since I'm not a US resident). Well, I didn't figure it out, but I found someone who did all the work for me. ;-)
2.      Edits come with a deadline. How inconsiderate of them!
3.      You need a thick skin. If you're not born with one, you better develop some.
4.      There are actually people buying my books! How awesome is that?
5.      Believe it or not, but some people like my books. :)
6.      Describing the cover for any of my titles and then receiving the first draft and / or the finished cover. It's my favorite part of publishing. It was especially fun to search for an image for Hunter's Hunt. What can I say—I got to look through zillions of pictures with naked or half-naked men. Yum! :)
7.      You have to promote your book. Sure, I thought when my first book came out. I'll make a post on my blog. Wow! I'm the promoting queen! Oops!
8.      It took me months to figure out how to go about creating a blog tour or what else I could do for promoting. I'm still not sure what works and what doesn’t.
9.      Other authors are only people too. I've made some good friends since my first steps into the publishing world.
10.  So many people told me how I feel about writing would change when I'm published but that's not how it works for me. The writing process might feel different but foremost it is still fun!

Buy links:

Wanted: one bear. Must be burly and hairy, and strong enough to paddle. Hunter Bell is on the prowl, and he knows just where to find his prey: at the Bear Trap, a gay leather bar he’s more than a little familiar with. So many men, so little time. He’s just about to pounce on his choice of the evening when a newcomer enters the bar, turning everyone’s head. Adrian Michaels is everything Hunter despises in a man. He’s lean and boyish looking, and he has the deepest dimples Hunter’s ever seen.
And yet there is an immediate attraction, one that neither man can deny. They’re both too astonished to do anything about this apparent interest in one another, and they waste their opportunity. Now it’s up to Hunter to forget about his stereotypical preference and go for the guy that’s just entered his dreams. If only he can admit to himself that Adrian’s what he really wants...

It took a moment for the newcomer to absorb his surroundings and, when he did, he flinched. A few men chuckled upon discovering the baffled look on the guy's face, which proved that he indeed hadn't known about the nature of the Bear's Trap. Hunter watched him shift from one foot to the other while most men turned back and resumed their conversations. The new guy remained rooted to the spot, dripping water all over the floor, before he squared his shoulders and pushed through the mass of bodies. At last he reached the bar, where Hunter was still standing, for some unknown reason interested in this guy.

The newcomer waved at the bartender. "Is there a phone anywhere?"

"You don't have a cell phone?" another guy asked, perplexed.

The newcomer shot him a 'drop-dead' look, startling Hunter into a laugh. The new guy turned toward him with a quizzical look. Hunter was face-to-face with an irritated man, whose dark blue eyes were blazing.

"Bad day?" Hunter heard himself ask.


Hunter pulled his cell phone from his pocket and held it out to him. "You might better go to the back. Otherwise, you won't be able to understand anything."

Baffled, the other man took the phone. "Thank you, uh, what's your name?"

"Hunter." He held out his hand for the other man to shake.

"Last name or first name?"


"Thanks, Hunter. I'm Adrian."

"Hey, Adrian."

Adrian gestured with the phone toward the end of the bar and raised one delicate eyebrow. "This way?"

Hunter nodded and beckoned Adrian to go past him. Adrian only made it a few feet before one of the other men groped him, drawing out a surprised yelp from Adrian. He shoved the guy aside then proceeded farther into the back. On his way, he struggled with advances from more guys than Hunter could count. At some point, Adrian whirled around and, even from that distance Hunter could see the fast heaving of his chest, the free hand balled into a fist, and the stressed look on his face.

With a sigh, Hunter pushed away from the bar and strolled after Adrian. He caught up with him right when another man, a regular customer called Dean, made a pass at him.

"Hey, knock it off. He's with me, Dean."

"With you? Since when are you going for his type, Hunter?" Dean asked with a sneer.

Hunter shrugged while he sent a dark glower toward Dean, which caused the other man to drop his eyes and inspect the contents of his glass thoroughly. Hunter laid a hand on Adrian's shoulder and pushed him ahead. Adrian cast him a worried look but walked where Hunter steered him. After opening a door to a private room at the end, he ushered Adrian through and switched on the light.

"Go ahead."

Adrian clutched the cell phone in his hands, staring at Hunter with an apprehensive look. Hunter noticed that Adrian's eyes were of a dark, almost navy, blue. He swallowed. Even behind the glasses, Adrian's eyes seemed large and expressive. He had to concentrate on listening to Adrian's question. "Is this... is this some kind of leather bar?"

"Yeah. Never been in one before, have you?" Hunter asked.

"No. No offense and all, but I'm not very fond of it."



"Need a bodyguard?"

Adrian eyed him before he obviously came to some kind of decision. "You free for bodyguard duty for maybe an hour?"

"Sure." Hunter grinned. "I won't even try to molest you."

Chris T. Kat
Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there's any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.


Thanks for stopping by, Chris, come back any time!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Guest Blogger: Tom Conrad

Please welcome author Tom Conrad, who bravely answered my infamous Rick Reed questions, and is going to talk about his newest release, That Coxom and Blondage Affair.

The Questions
1: You’re marooned on a small island with one person and one item of your choice—who is that person and what item do you have?

Christina Hendricks and the key to the handcuffs she’s wearing.

2: Which musical would you say best exemplifies your life – and which character in that musical are you?

Man of La Mancha. I’d be Don Quixote, always charging headlong at windmills.

3: Take these three words and give me a 100 word scene using them:  captain, sausage, and ridge.

All Tom Conrad wanted to do was get people to read his damn ebooks (available on Amazon/Kindle), and now this lady - a lovely lady at that - was asking him to insert words like sausage and ridge into a sentence.

“Oh Captain, my Captain, what do I need to do to sell these damn ebooks?” Tom Conrad suddenly thought, rather obscurely picturing that film with Robin Williams in it, and all those sensitive young boys standing on tables and committing suicide. Hm, Tom Conrad further mused, I’ve just used them all, haven’t I? Yes. Yes, I have!

4: You’ve just been let loose in the world of fiction, with permission to do anyone you want. Who do you fuck first and why?

Ha. I love the expression “do”. I would do Lady Galadriel from the Lord of the Rings books: her beauty is legendary and I like older women. Admittedly, I think she’s 3,000 years old, but just think about all the “experience” she has. Of course, we’d be making love, not fucking ;)

5: What is your idea of how to spend romantic time with your significant other?

I’m single, having just come out of a short-lived relationship, though we kind of termed it as “dating” throughout. My ideal scenario would be listening to our favorite music: sharing our favorite songs, drinking wine and “doing one another” on the floor, bed… or in a big bath tub. Actually, taking a bath together (whilst listening to music) would be my ideal date.

6: When you start a new story, do you begin with a character, or a plot?

It’s very much differed with each of my works.

With my debut novel, Rich Pickings for Ravens (a humorous mystery/romance) I started with the character, Midnight Merlot. The idea for the character was central. We follow Midnight as he tries to remember how he ended up dead and also why none of his ex-girlfriends have attended his humanist funeral.

In my latest novel, That Coxom & Blondage Affair (bawdy rom-com) it was the plot that came first, i.e. I wanted to write about Internet dating and bubbling in my head I had an idea for a slight Fifty Shades parody.

7: If they were to make the story of your life into a movie, who should play you?

Christina Hendricks: I’ve always wondered how I’d look with massive boobs?!

8: Who’s your favorite horror villain and why?

The shark in Jaws (unnamed). They really should’ve gotten a bigger boat.

Actually, I’m a big fan of a lot of American TV. I love Breaking Bad, Dexter and appreciate the brilliance of Thomas Harris (novels and movie adaptations): Hannibal is probably the best and most chilling villain ever created.

9: Do you have an historical crush and if so, who is it?

I fantasize about one of my old sociology tutors a fair bit - don’t roll your eyes at me, I could’ve said history tutors ;)

10: Is there a story that you’d like to tell but you think the world isn’t ready to receive it?

I’ve several alternative dating books I want to release as soon as possible. I’m not sure how they’ll be received but I hope it will shake the world up a bit, along with “hopefully” getting some pulses racing. All in all, I’ve quite a few pies in the oven, so I’m optimistic I’ll get them out and people will actually read and feast on them. At the moment I’ve eight titles on Amazon/Kindle: two full-length novels and a collection of shorter works. It’d be great if people checked them out and gave them a try.

Anyway, big THANKS to everyone who read this far and of course thank you to Julie for some grand questions.

Please read the excerpt below and most importantly go and BUY my books. They’re a good read, honest!

An excerpt from Chapter Six of That Coxom & Blondage Affair:

Beatrice barely paid any mind to Dan’s unruly grammar, only a split second spent furrowing her brow at his apparent confusion over commas and exclamation marks. Instead, she focused on the three main pictures of Dan: three holiday snaps displayed on his public profile, and each one of them showing his cheeky/shameless face. Indeed, in one photo, taken in Thailand’s Tiger Temple, Dan crouched down beside a dirty orange, worn-out looking tiger. Unfortunately, the big cat (usually a majestic and fearsome beast) had been doped up to the eyeballs, and thus had been temporarily unable to claw or maul the grinning Dan; not even as Dan held his thumb up to the camera like a grinning idiot. Obviously, if the poor tiger hadn’t have been so heavily sedated perhaps Beatrice would have been spared the ordeal of receiving regular photos of Dan’s junk.

Not that Beatrice truly minded looking at a cock pic, after all she loved to get her hands and mouth on a fulsome member. The problem was... well, Dan’s member was somewhat ugly. Not small, pencil thin or puckered, just rather unappealing. What’s more, despite its lack of a pleasing aesthetic, Dan truly seemed compelled to send photos of his tackle on a regular basis. The first picture he’d sent on Monday. It’d clearly been taken in Dan’s bedroom; a small box-room with an England flag plastered on the wall. Beatrice hadn’t replied to that one, but a second photo; taken in a grimy looking bathroom soon followed all the same. This latest offering, of Dan’s pride and joy poking out the top of his briefs, displayed yet another fresh angle of his slimy and jaundice looking manmeat.

Thanks, Daniel, Beatrice only thought to herself, swiftly deleting the message from her inbox.

Message three: another guy seemingly wanting to send photos.

Profile: Tweacle Tel

Tagline: Looking for a relationship... honest!


Born. Wrote many an ebook (continually delighted people actually read them)... Not dead yet!

You can like and follow me on Twitter and Facebook:

Facebook page:

Twitter: @tomconrad1980

Buy all my books on Amazon for Kindle:

Saturday, September 21, 2013

My Sexy Saturday #11: Leonardo DiCaprio is a Vampire

Happy Saturday one and all! I'm taking today's Sexy Saturday post from my book, Leonardo DiCaprio is a Vampire, which comes out with Torquere next month. And for those who may remember it from before - from the publisher who shall not be named - I've added to it with Hunter's POV.

Hunter and Fisher have been best friends forever. But Fisher feels more than that, feelings he must hide to ensure that he not lose their friendship. Could he be wrong about Hunter's lack of interest in him? Here I present to you their first kiss. Enjoy!

Don't forget to check out the rest of the bloggers here.

Fisher trembled, waiting for something to happen. He didn't have to wait long. Suddenly those beautiful lips were touching his, and then they were kissing, truly kissing. No, it wasn't Fisher's first kiss, but it was his first with a man. His only kiss with a man. And he was amazed at what a difference there was between this kiss and the others. Not because of gender, but because it was with Hunter.

He felt himself giving in to those lips, melting into that touch, with a heat that penetrated his entire body, vibrating in its intensity. Now Hunter was nibbling at his lips, soft tender kisses that shook him to his very foundation. His head was reeling, and he was on the verge of losing all sense of self when he felt the first raindrops splash upon his upturned face.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Virtual Book Tour: Weak at the Knees

Please welcome author Jo Kessel, who has a new release, Weak at the Knees. Jo will be giving away a $50 Amazon or B&N GC to one lucky commenter during the tour.The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. To find the rest of her tour stops, go here. Look for the rafflecopter at the end of this post.

Jo Kessel


“We got so busy living life that we forgot to live our dreams.”

Danni Lewis has been playing it safe for twenty-six years, but her sheltered existence is making her feel old ahead of time. When a sudden death plunges her into a spiral of grief, she throws caution to the wind and runs away to France in search of a new beginning.

The moment ski instructor Olivier du Pape enters her shattered world she falls hard, in more ways than one.

Their mutual desire is as powerful and seductive as the mountains around them. His dark gypsy looks and piercing blue eyes are irresistible.

Only she must resist, because he has a wife – and she’d made a pact to never get involved with a married man.

But how do you choose between keeping your word and being true to your soul?

Weak at the Knees is Jo’s debut novel in the new adult, contemporary romance genre – a story about love, loss and relationships, set between London and the heart of the French Alps.


Late afternoon Olivier and I are playing with interlocked fingers, sitting side by side on the balcony step, basking in the sun.

“I’ve been thinking about your birthday. Is there anything in particular that you’d like to do?” he asks.

I shrug.

“I don’t think so. Birthdays are no big deal and twenty-seven is hardly one of the big ones.”

It’s getting dangerously close to thirty and my life is still not exactly sorted. He rubs it in.

“There’s only three more years to go until you join my decade! Look, forget about it being your birthday. Let’s just say we’ve got an evening to spend together to do something a bit different. What would you like to do then?”

I’m not brave enough to ask what’s going to happen to us, to ask whether he’s going to have left his wife by then, or whether he’s expecting me to stay as his bit on the side. But perhaps I won’t need to. Because if I can summon enough courage to tell him exactly what I’d really like to do for my birthday, his answer will probably tell me all I need to know. There is something I’ve been desperate to do since we got together, but it’s not been possible seeing as our affair has to be kept secret. It doesn’t seem much to ask and for most couples it’s the simplest thing to do. I can’t bear to look at his face, to see his expression or to read his reaction, so I fixate on our fingers instead, making pretty puppet patterns.

“Actually, there is something I’d like to do,” I say. “I’d like to go out and eat at a restaurant, just you and me.”

He’s silent for the longest moment. His fingers stop moving and so, it feels, does my heart.

“Do you know how difficult that is for me Danni?”

His face is tight and serious when I look up and drown in his clear blue stare. I can barely breathe. It feels like the question mark hanging over our relationship and future has just jumped off the page, quadrupled in size and wrapped itself tight around my windpipe.


When Jo was ten years old she wrote a short story about losing a loved one. Her mother and big sister were so moved by the tale that it made them cry. Having reduced them to tears, she vowed that the next time she wrote a story it would make them smile instead. Happily she succeeded, and with this success grew an addiction for wanting to reach out and touch people with words. Jo lives in London with her husband and three children where she works as a TV and print journalist. She tells life stories and can often be found travelling the globe researching the next big holiday hotspots for readers to enjoy. Since becoming a mother, anything even remotely sad makes her cry. She’s a sucker for a good romance and tear-jerker movies are the worst. She’s that woman in the cinema, struggling to muffle audible wails as everyone else turns round to stare.

P.S Jo’s pretty certain one of her daughters has inherited this gene.          

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Thursday, September 19, 2013

Guest Blogger: M.A. Church and Faded Love

You remember M.A. Church, right? You should, she comes here all the time! Well, she's graced us with her presence again, so everybody put your hands together and give her a big old welcome!

A year ago, M.A. had a story released in an anthology, Carved in Flesh, from Storm Moon. Now her story has been released as a single, Faded Love, and she's going to talk about it. Hang on, I have a drink for  you, M.A.

Faded Love

A drive home in the wee hours in the morning after a modeling job… then a moment’s distraction and a twist of Fate puts an end to one way of life for Ashley and opens the door to another.

Hey everyone! My name is M.A. Church, and I was part of the Carved in Flesh anthology from Storm Moon Press that came out a year ago. Now my story, Faded Love, has been released as a single title. This anthology caught my eye because of the subject matter. In a society that worships beauty and is filled with everyday images of what’s ideal, I had to wonder what would happen to an internationally well-known model who ends up scarred.
Then throw in his lover, Will—who is a sports model. To make matters even more interesting, Will just happens to have given Ashley an ultimatum before the car accident: he wants an exclusive relationship with Ashley. The mere thought of a commitment sends Ashley into a tailspin. And there you go, lol, a swirling brew of pain, anger, fear, regret, and… one man’s determination not to give up on the man he loves. In other words, Will has a hot mess on his hands, lol. Can he prove to Ashley that scars fade, but love doesn’t?
This anthology, in a lot of ways, strikes very close to home for me. Twelve years ago I had back surgery, and I have a pretty big scar on my back. Granted, over the years it’s faded, but when I tan in the summer, it’s noticeable. In my late teens and early twenties I also modeled regionally. *Laugh* It wasn’t anything to write home about, but modeling did teach me one thing. The old saying that models are nothing more than ‘coat hangers’ is so very true.
So imagine how a world-famous model would react to a scar on his face—the very face that made him a living, that he was known by. Yeah, Ashley’s emotions run the gamut from disbelief, anger, and self-loathing to fear—fear that without his looks, he’s worth nothing. Thank goodness for Will and his stubborn nature. Not long after the accident, Ashley learns Will has been offered an opportunity that’s the chance of a lifetime… on the opposite coast. Ashley, my spoilt little diva, has a hard choice to make.
My favorite scene in the story is where Will and Ashley kiss on a beach near the end. The message that comes through by the end of the story is Scars fade, but love does not. There's so much truth to that. The harder times of life might stick with us, but the ache of them usually fades over time; true love doesn't fade away. I wholeheartedly believe that, and it's where the title of my short story came from too.

One moment in time can change your life, especially a life that revolves around your face. A near-fatal car accident leaves a world famous model's face scarred and his career in a tailspin. The life Ashley knew is over and he wants to do nothing but fade away into nothingness. Only his lover, Will, can pull him out of his dark depression and make Ashley see even scars can be beautiful.

The first thing Ashley noticed when he woke was a feeling of disconnection. He was floating, drifting. His eyes weighed a ton, as did his body, and his faced itched. Trying to lift his hand to scratch at the insistent itch, he struggled to get the limb to function. Nothing seemed to work right. Was he home in bed? He didn’t remember getting home. A soft beep caught his attention. What was that annoying sound? His mind was fuzzy and his mouth was as dry as cotton. Seriously freaked out, he fought to open his eyes, and his body jerked as he twisted. Pain exploded, greeting him unmercifully, biting at him.
“Ashley? Can you hear me?”
That voice. He knew that voice. With a herculean effort he opened his eyes. Or tried to. One side of his vision was pitch black, and the other side was blurry. Sickly fear coated his body. He flung his hands up, searching. What the hell was covering the left side of his face? Clawing at the covering, he whimpered as an out of focus face bent over him.
“Hey, hey now, ease up there. It’s okay.”
“Will?” Ashley’s hand was gently held and pulled down. Why did Will’s voice sound so funny, like he was hoarse? “Will? What’s going on? Where am I? What’s on my face?”
“Listen to me. You’re in the hospital.”
“Hospital? Why the hell am I in the hospital?” Straining, he was finally able to make out the pale walls, and smell a scent he had always associated with hospitals: cleaners and sickness.
“You don’t remember… anything?” Will bent over Ashley, still holding his hands. God, Will’s skin was so warm, and his was so cold. “Tell me what you remember.”
“Was on my way home from that shoot. You called. I was going to call you back… Will?” Ashley’s voice rose and cracked. “Then, nothing until now. What—what… Will?”
One of Will’s strong hands managed to loosen itself from Ashley’s death grip and brushed Ashley’s hair back from his face. “You’re in the hospital. There was an accident, a bad accident. You were hit on the way home two days ago.”
“Fuck me! Two days ago?” Ashley bit his lip as pain spiked in his ribs. “How bad? Who hit me?”
“It was pretty bad. You have bruised ribs from the impact with the steering wheel, your arm is bruised—not broken—and more bruises over your body. I forgot the driver’s name. They hit you on the passenger side, slammed you into a street light. Two people in the other car died.”
“Died? Jesus.” Every time Ashley tried to lift his hand to his face, Will stopped him. “What’s wrong with my vision? Why can I only see out of one side?”
Gripping his hand, Will hesitated. “You were struck so hard your head hit the driver side window.”
Ashley gripped Will’s hand. There was more, he just knew it. What little he could make out of Will’s concerned face told him that. “And? Tell me, dammit!”
 “The window busted. There was glass everywhere. Oh God, Ashley, I’m so sorry. You were cut. On your face… and—and… there’s going to be a scar.”
“A scar?” Ashley whispered, and then his voice gained in strength as horror stabbed at him. “A scar, on my face? My face? No! Oh my God, no! How bad, Will? How fucking bad?”
Tears soaked Will’s voice. “From the hair line to under your chin. Jesus, Ashley. I’m so sorry.”
The screams from Ashley’s room brought most of the nursing staff at a dead run.


My links:
Twitter @nomoretears00

Thanks for coming by, M.A.! Care for more Coke?