Love Is A Many-Flavored Thing

Friendly Friday - Featuring Vicktor Alexander

2012-02-24T08:00:00.001-05:00

CHANGING THE WORLD ONE STORY AT A TIME

When I start writing a book, I don’t go into it with the idea that I’m going to write something that’s dark, gritty, or deals with issues that I think people need to be aware of. I write, just to write. However, with every book, every story, every blog post, I see that world changer side of me poking through. Writing a book where one of the main characters is a cross-dresser, who’d been in an abusive relationship and then saves himself, was not my initial idea when I started writing Inconceivable. A book that deals with racism, transphobia, deafness, human trafficking, and adoption was not my initial idea when I started writing Unassumed. These are things that just happen. I can’t be too upset about it though, I have spent my life trying to figure out ways to change the world for the better, to help others, to save the world from bigotry, hatred, intolerance, poverty, disease, starvation, persecution, abuse, and human rights violations.

For me, it started when I was in the tenth grade. I was a troubled teen, fifteen years old, going on sixteen, addicted to drugs and hard liquor, running away from the demons and the pain of my past, of my then present, and my completely uncertain future. I was Richard from Unthinkable, a dancer, trying to escape the harsh realities of my life. I was Tommy, from Inconceivable, I felt like a cross-dresser every time I put on women’s clothes, in and out of abusive relationships, desperately wanting someone to see the real me, and determined to not let the ominous clouds ruin my part. I am Michael and Howell, from Unassumed. Michael, the transgender character who has a disability, desperately wanting someone, the right one, to love the real me, seeking acceptance, craving a true family of my own. Howell, the only black cowboy from the Tate Pack series [so far], whose past haunts him and makes him simultaneously want to hold those he loves close to him and also push them away to keep them and his own heart safe. Howell, for whom responsibility is just another opportunity to fuck up and who has no problem going the extra mile for someone who needs him. There’s Alex, from Impossible, whose love and talent for singing is one of the only things stopping him from falling over the deep end and whose mind is fixated on saving the children who he’d promised to take care of. Then there’s Maurice, from Untouchable, whose past is wrought with abuse, sex slavery, drugs, alcohol, betrayal, lies, pain, sadness, heartbreak, hurt, grief, anger, rage, suicide, death, hopelessness who is so much stronger than he can ever fully realize, who is just looking for that one person who will love him in spite of all the scars, physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally.

Each of these characters I see myself in, each of them has taken a piece of my soul and a fragment of my spirit and laid it bare for people to read, review, criticize, critique, manhandle, poke, prod, jeer at, despise, insult, compliment, hate and love. I think that’s why every book has those issues in it. It’s the reason why my The Dom series starts off in Mark Me dealing with interracial romance, gay romance, homophobia, racism, BDSM, sadism, masochism, abuse, fear, and acceptance. These are the truths of our society. The truths of our world. I sometimes wish I could write a fluff novel, a story where the issues aren’t as deep as they are in the Damien & Roman series that deals with transphobia, racism, bigotry, acceptance, love, families, religious fanatics, surgeries, insurance, health and prejudice.

There are days where I wish that I could write something that wasn’t so heavy, something that didn’t seek to grab the heart of the reader and squeeze it. However, every time I start writing, my heart gets involved and I sneak in those issues, hoping to change someone’s life, hoping to change someone’s way of thinking. Hoping to be able to affect someone’s life the way LA Witt with Static and Carol Lynne with Hawk’s Landing changed mine. I think that’s something that some people miss when it comes to my books. They look for the shallow issues, or the ones that are a little deep but not too much, they don’t realize that I’m not seeking their minds. I’m not going after the top layer of their heart. I want my characters and my books to so embed themselves inside of the reader that the reader is rubbing their chest, affected.

Yes, I want them to get turned on by my copious amounts of sex, lube, cocks, balls, teeth, tongue, lips and orgasms. Yes, I want them to sigh over the love the characters find and fight for. Yes I want them to laugh and smile. But, when it’s all over, I want them to feel touched, I want them to be moved, I want them to be changed. Forever changed.

I am not seeking the mind of the reader, I’m seeking the heart, and I think that’s the reason why, no matter what my intentions are when I start writing anything, I always end up writing something else entirely. But I can’t say that it’s a bad thing. It’s my chance and my opportunity to leave a mark on this world, even if it is a small one.

-Vicktor Alexander

Pimpin' Fellow Author Kimber An

2012-02-23T08:00:00.002-05:00

Hi folks! Today I'm pimpin' a fellow Noble Romance author - Kimber An, and her story "Drive By Valentine!"

Blurb:

Pushing thirty on Valentine’s Day, Eve realizes her desperate search for love has led to nothing but misery. Then, she takes a chance on a little old lady who’s famous for finding the perfect guy for every girl just by looking at his truck.

Excerpt:

Eve laid a hand on the highly polished brass doorknob, twisted, pushed, and stepped over the threshold alone. The smell of fine leather and oil filled her nose, and a little panic nearly made her step back outside. If her mother knew what she was up to, visiting this little antique automobile store the night before Valentine's Day, she'd just die. Going there was a desperate act, but the girls at work didn't know anything about the tiny town in the middle of nowhere that Eve discovered quite by accident. And if they didn't know, Mom would never find out. She planted her feet like trees and beheld the dazzling sight of an old car painted candy-apple red. Ropes made of a deeper red velvet, curtained the vehicle off from curious fingers.

"1926 Model-T," said a raspy-voiced woman. "My Tommy's first and still in mint condition."

Eve lifted her eyes and saw the hunched-back old lady standing behind an ancient, brass-trimmed cash register, which, undoubtedly, did not have any kind of scanner or other modern bells and whistles. Eve figured she better introduce herself. "My name is Eve and I . . . I'm looking for a . . . ."

"Husband. Yes, I know." The wizened senior had long, gray hair streaked with black and pulled into a beaded barrette. She wore a faded denim shirt and a gold, heart-shaped locket lay against her collarbone.

Eve felt blood rushing through vessels all over her face until her ears burned. The old woman came close to hitting the mark. Eve hadn't gone there looking for a husband, exactly, but a date for Valentine's Day sure would be nice.

"My name is Sofia." She hobbled around the counter on a cane.

Sounds Mexican. Eve pondered the old woman pulling a chamois cloth from her pocket.

"Italian, actually. Papa worked in a Lamborghini factory, and Mama smashed her Fairlane through the storefront because, she said, he was gorgeous." Sofia ran fingers over the hood of a pink convertible and then turned her attention to a dark blue Mustang. Both vehicles stood behind ropes, just like the Model-T.

"Oh." Eve took a few steps and scanned the store for a face-saving excuse for being there. Old, polished planks squeaked beneath her high heels, and the display cases shone with fine wood and glass. Chrome wheels and trophies from antique automobile shows hung on the walls. "I was driving through, when I noticed your sign."

"Uh huh. I see. What kind of husband are you looking for?" Sofia tenderly polished the Mustang's fender.

"I'm not . . . ." Eve's thoughts rushed back to the girls' chattering about their plans for Valentine's Day. She'd overheard Mary Alice tell Rachael that she'd bet five dollars Eve wouldn't have a date, that she'd probably be sitting at home, by herself. Silently, Eve placed her own bet; she'd find someone to go out with tomorrow, if it were the last thing she'd do. Then she'd left work early, claiming a headache, and driven aimlessly until she'd stumbled upon this tiny little town a couple hours outside the city.

"You won't find what you're looking for until you're sure of what you need." Sofia interrupted Eve's morose thoughts.

Eve focused directly on the old woman's eyes and decided to play dumb. What had she been thinking, going there? "I . . . I don't know what—"

"I think maybe you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. We only need to draw it out. Tommy and I fell in love in that 1955 pink Cadillac." She nodded toward the convertible. "Papa was a mechanic, you see, and I always helped him."

Eve turned her attention from the Caddie to the wall of framed photographs behind the cash register. She studied the top portrait; black and white, the picture showed a grinning bride and groom standing before an old car just like the Model-T. Each picture below showed them aging together in front of yet another antique automobile, until finally, Sofia stood alone beside a gravestone in a cemetery, the Model-T parked in the background.

"We knew what we needed and we found it together." Sofia's statement brought the real issue into focus.

Eve tried to stop wringing her fingers and bit her lower lip instead. What would she like in a husband? "I suppose it would be nice to find someone successful and charming."

Sofia stopped polishing and looked Eve up and down. "That's what your girlfriends have, so that's what you think you need too. But, I don't think that's it at all."

Sound cool? Well, what are you waiting for? Buy it HERE

Life's a Drag

2012-02-23T08:00:00.000-05:00

Today I want to talk about one of my favorite things—drag shows. I absolutely love going. There's such a fun, flirtations feeling in the air. The performers are beautiful, and their outfits are so creative. From ball gowns to sexy little fishnets, there's nothing like watching a man twirl around on teensy tiny high heels.

Half the time, if forget they're actually men under there. I think that's because I'm such a visually stimulated person. I don’t need to know what the plumbing looks like in order to be attracted to a person. Plus, I'm an ass man and there's always at least one nice round ass on display.

Another reason I like drag shows is that I find men in frilly women's clothing sexy as hell. My computer in my writing office has shots of hunky men in lacy panties and fancy skirts. Oh. Wow. Nothing's sexier. Maybe that's due to my own gender issues, but I don't care. Men in drag are S.E.X.Y. I mean, think about it. Imagine the sexiest guy you know. Maybe he's the hot fireman downtown. Maybe he's the geeky guy at the bookstore. Maybe he's the slightly plump guy next door, with chest hair that just won't quit. Now imagine him shimmying out of his jeans (or his slacks, or his sweatpants, or his whatever-the-hell-you-want-him-to-be-wearing) and imagine those pants coming down to reveal frilly, lacy red panties…or silky satin white panties with a sweet little pink bow. Tell me that doesn't get you going!

I know plenty of women who think drag shows are unnatural and odd. I've even heard a woman say drag queens were just out to steal men from "real women." Funny, but a lot of the drag queens I know are in committed relationships. Some of them are even married. (You know we can legally do that in a few states now.) They've already got their own men, and they don't need yours, honey. ::snap:: Shock of all shocks, I even know a heterosexual drag queen who is married to a woman. Not every guy in a dress is trying to get in your hubby's pants, darlin'.

I find, though, that a fair amount of men don't like drag shows either; my own husband being one of them. Don't get me wrong—my husband is not homophobic or a bigot. Like me, he's also visually stimulated, but he's very grounded in reality. It takes the fun out of it, for him, because he knows they're not really women. He can't get past that, mentally. So, no matter how pretty she is, she's not a she. If he's going to watch women dance, he wants to watch women. Still in all, he's gone to a few shows with me, and he always enjoys himself.

My youngest son is a drag queen magnet. He's been to about a dozen or so shows with me, and at every one, he gets attention. He's been petted, pawed, had lap dances, had queens ask other audience members to take their picture with him. I don't know what it is about him. He's always kind and friendly, and isn't really bothered by any of it. He's as baffled as I am about why they pick him, but I think in a way he's probably sort of flattered. Who wouldn't be?

Although, I'm not sure which is worse—those who don't like drag shows, or those who like them too much. Case in point: I recently went to a show with my son and some friends and coworkers. Things typically start off slow, until either the audience has had a few drinks or one of the queens does a number to a song everyone knows and can sing along to. I contend to this day that you can't fully appreciate "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey until you've experienced it in a small, dark gay bar, surrounded by drunken audience members singing along at the top of their lungs.

Anyhow, during the aforementioned show, this one particular man—who was already quite drunk—kept jumping up to hug all the queens. He followed one around during her song. Now, while I was watching the guy in question, from my nice little seat in the corner, I assumed he knew the queens. After all, the drag community around here is fairly close-knit. A lot of people who attend the shows are relatives of the queens and kings, or are their close friends. Then, after speaking to one of the queens I personally know, I find out that not only do none of the queens know this asshat, but he'd also accosted my friend in the bar, grabbed her by the arms and told her she had great legs and that he wanted to hold her down and touch them.

WTF? I paid closer attention after that, and was amazed at the liberties some people felt entitled to take. I thought to myself, they don't go anywhere else and act like this. What gives them the right to at a drag show? You don't go to McDonalds and tell the guy behind the counter he's cute and you'd like to blow him. You don't go to Wal-Mart and tell the cashier she's wearing nice shoes and you'd like to jack off in them. What the hell gives anyone the right to treat the queens and kings so rudely? True, the queens and kings were being flirty and touchy with some of the audience, but it seemed to be the same people each time—including my table. And then I realized, we were the safe people. The ones who weren't being offensively attentive.

At one show, I got asked to dinner by one of the queens. She told me something that kind of broke my heart. She said she didn't meet many people like me, who were so truly accepting of her. I couldn't imagine how anyone could look at any of the queens and kings and feel anything but awe. Awe for the talent, the amount of work they put into their bodies and clothing, and the physicality of running around in high heels on the dance floor. And on the other hand, what gives anyone the right to judge anyone else?

I suppose I always thought of drag shows as something that was all in good fun. Like going to a movie. Why would you attend if it wasn't your thing? I mean, you wouldn't go watch 300 if you didn't like blood and gore, or at the very least, if you weren't okay with it. You wouldn't watch Nightmare on Elm Street if you didn't want to be scared. Why on Earth would you go to a drag show if you weren't one-hundred-percent comfortable with it?

I spoke to someone recently about this post, and asked his opinion. He's a heterosexual male, married with three kids, big gruff guy, wears a cowboy had and cowboy boots even though he lives in Upstate NY and the closest he's ever gotten to a ranch was watching Dallas in the 1980s. He's kind of a…well…I won't say he's a bigot… ::sigh:: Yeah, I guess actually I will say he's a bigot. So, I asked him. What's the big deal? You're straight. You know it, your wife knows it, everyone in the world knows it. So what if some guy grinds on your hip for two seconds at a show. Who cares? He gave me a line about it threatening how his sexuality is perceived. People might think he was okay with such a thing. And then they might think they could do it to him, too. When I asked who they were, he answered, "You know...gays."

At that point, I think everyone who knows me can imagine how high my left eyebrow arched. So I said to him, "Let me get this clear here. You think that if you sit in a chair, and, due to circumstances beyond your control, a guy dressed as a woman comes over to you and shows you attention, that's open call for every gay man in the joint to pounce on the giant redneck-looking dude with the wife?"

He kind of sputtered at that, and eventually admitted it was kind of a silly notion. We talked in depth about homosexuality, drag shows, being transgender, etc. Now, this guy has known me for years, and he's been a friend to me despite his closed-minded up bringing, and his lingering homophobic mentality. He's a bigot, but he really is a good guy at heart. He's not one of those people who want us to all fall off the face of the planet. He doesn't support hate crimes, and he thinks everyone in the Westboro Baptist Church is a waste of flesh. He just thinks that a person being in love with and having relations with another person of the same gender is morally wrong and against God. (Some day I'll have to tell you about the theological debates we have.)

I asked him point blank if he felt I was a threat to his perceived sexuality when we hugged. He said of course not, and when I asked why, he said, "Well it's not like you're really a dude. You're just a woman in dude's clothing." (::sigh:: He's never really grasped the whole transgender thing.) Nevertheless, the response was interesting, and I asked him what the difference was between a drag queen and me then?

His answer astonished me. He said, "Because you're supposed to be turned on by drag queens. That's what they're doing. That's the point. They're trying to make you want them. Trying to make you horny. They're trying to trick you into wanting them. Trying to trick you into sinning."

I tried not to laugh. I really, really tried. I asked him if he'd ever considered that being a drag queen was about how the queen felt, and not how the audience felt? Maybe the queens enjoyed how they felt in those costumes. Maybe the attention filled a need—made them feel important and loved. He said he didn't get why they had to dress up in dresses for that.

I asked him why he dressed the way he dressed. After all, he's not a ranch hand. He's a number cruncher. He doesn't drive a truck. He drives a Toyota Camry. He doesn't live on a ranch. He has a nice two story Tudor style house. He's never even been near a cow, other than at the dairy section in the grocery store, and he'd seriously injure himself if he ever had to ride a horse. So, why the cowboy get up? He answered that those clothes made him feel comfortable. Made him feel like more of a man, and he felt they sent a message to people that he was a badass.

I asked him why it couldn't be the same for a drag queen? I mean, really…men don't dress up in women's clothing unless they enjoy it. So, yes, it's about the show, but it's also about them feeling pretty. Feeling fabulous. Feeling like they're beautiful. Feeling like they're special. And yes, they're all those things in "real life," but maybe they don't feel it in "real life." Sure, they love the audience attention, when it's appropriate, and they love hearing how people have enjoyed the show, but maybe it's just about trying to find your way in a world that will never fully accept anyone who doesn't fit into a cookie cutter.

Or maybe it's just about the shiny jewelry, the feathers, and the silky gowns. What the hell do I know? I'm just a woman in dude's clothing, right? :grin::

Naughty After Dark Blog Hop Winner!

2012-02-23T01:00:00.002-05:00

WOW! 41 entries! How awesome is that?!?! You guys ROCK!

And now...the moment you've all been waiting for....(drum roll) the winner is....

Rhonda - slinkydennis@yahoo.com!!

Congratulations!!!! I'll be sending you an email shortly, and your gift certificate will arrive via email as well!

Thanks SO MUCH to everyone who participated!!!!

Friendly Friday - Featuring Lydia Nyx!

2012-02-17T08:00:00.001-05:00

Hello everyone, I'm Lydia Nyx! First, I want to extend a huge thanks to DC for hosting me on his blog! I'm here to tell you a little bit about the things I write and hopefully make a couple new friends.

I'm a m/m author, but within that genre I write a whole, huge mess of different things. I pen a lot of paranormal stuff, a little horror, some historical, and also some straight (or, not-so-straight) romance and erotica. I don't always write happily-ever-after endings, but a lot of times I do. I have a little something for everyone in my catalog. I guess I'm a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma and all that stuff. Or maybe I just can't stick with one thing or I'd get bored.

I've always been inclined to paranormal stuff, long before I became an erotica author, or even started writing m/m. Most of my work appears in anthologies or as stand-alone short stories, but I have two full-length novels published, one of which is a m/m urban fantasy called Black Shore of the White City. I love urban fantasy because it combines that spooky stuff I've always liked with the romance I've become fond of over the past few years. Also, urban fantasy is sexy! Thrills, chills, mysteries, monsters, and hot fast-paced action and romance all rolled into one--what's not to love?

About Black Shore of the White City:

Jude Coffin enjoys the finer things in life: an exceptional wine, a good whiskey, non-menthol cigarettes, and a cute guy with a great ass. Despite being a Siren, or an 'aural captivator' for the supernaturally correct, he doesn't like paranormal politics, paranormal science, and certainly not paranormal activists.

Despite this, Jude and his similarly supernaturally-endowed twin brother Jason are lured to Chicago to undergo study at the controversial Institute of Supernatural Research. Jude remembers why he stays away from the paranormal world when the Institute takes his brother hostage. His only hope of getting him back is enlisting the help of Micha Bellevue, Chicago's leading paranormal advocate, and Sam Haain, fiery, possibly insane paranormal supremacist. Tangled up with these two clashing and decidedly sexy personalities, Jude gets a look at Chicago he never wanted: a city at war with itself, full of angry supernatural people, conspiracy, and murder.

BUY LINK

I've built an entire world around the story, as it's meant to be the first of a series, and you can check out the Chicago of my universe here: http://www.lydianyx.com/works/white-city I'm working on the sequel now and it's about three-quarters done. Which really, any writer will tell you: is not nearly close enough to being done!

On the other hand, if you don't like things that go bump in the night, my other full-length novel, From Morocco to Paris, is a contemporary straight-up work of erotica and romance with no ghosts or monsters. I promise! (Except for the ones, of course, inside the character's heads.) It follows an aspiring movie director (currently working as a celebrity assistant) and his struggle with his sexuality via a costumer he meets on the set of the movie his employer is starring in. There are tons of exotic locales and erotic romps:

Zane Reed wants to be a movie director, but first he has to learn the ropes by taking every crap job in the industry. Employed as personal assistant to actor Elliot Butler, Zane hopes to further his education when Elliot works with famed director Saul Brennan on an epic movie about Napoleon Bonaparte. However, Zane gets an education in something else entirely when he meets Davey Alexander, one of the production's costumers.

Davey, vivacious and erotically-charged, shakes reluctant, sexually-confused Zane down to his core. Zane's feelings for Davey quickly grow beyond lust, but the two can't get it together. During filming, from Morocco, to Egypt, to Paris, the two struggle with desire and muddled emotions. In the end, Zane will have to overcome himself if he wants to keep the most intriguing, passionate man he's ever known from walking out of his life.

BUY LINK

I don't think I'll ever be able to settle down into once niche. Every spot I try to wedge into, I find myself wiggling around in sooner or later! My latest releases have included a purely historical m/m romance, a contemporary fantasy romance, a suspense thriller, and a dystopian novella set in a post-apocalyptic future. So pick your poison…I've probably written it!

*******

Lydia Nyx is from Cleveland, Ohio. She writes everything from contemporary to historical, as well as paranormal, horror, and urban fantasy, and she prefers all her fiction with a male/male twist. She currently resides in a little apartment with her teenage son and a crazy cat and spends countless hours of the day entertaining the dirty fantasies in her head. As a 'day job' she works as a waitress, which gives her lots of free time to slack off and plot stories. Writing since the age of 13, she has always wanted to be an author, and hopefully one day writing will be her only 'day job.'

Find Lydia at her website

And her blog

Valentine's Day Blog Hop Winner(S)!

2012-02-15T00:16:00.003-05:00

Okay everyone - you know what time it is --- WINNER TIME! Since I had so many entries (34 - WOW!!) I've decided to pick not one...not two...but THREE winners!! I've put the names in a hat (yes, I really do write the names down and stick them in a hat!) and here are the winners:

Winner #1: ~Ley (ashley.vanburen[at]gmail[dot]com)

Winner #2: Renee’ S. (PaParanormalFan )

Winner #3: Terri (terrihawk66@yahoo.com)

Congratulations everyone!!!!!!!!!! I'll be contacting you by e-mail shortly!

I'm participating in a TON more hops (see the links on my sidebar) so if you didn't win tonight, there's a bunch more chances!!

Naughty After Dark Blog Hop

2012-02-15T00:00:00.013-05:00

You know I'm a blog hop whore, so I couldn't resist this one, especially since one of the requirements is a naughty give-away!

My offering is a $25 gift certificate to Sextoy.com

Here's how to enter:

1. Follow my blog.

2. Leave a comment below with your e-mail address (and your follower name, if it's different)

Be sure to leave your e-mail in the comment - that's how your certificate will get to you if you win!

Click the picture above to go to Close Encounters with the Night Kind and see the full list of participating bloggers - there's tons more stuff to win!!!

Please Welcome Special Guest Vicktor Alexander!

2012-02-14T08:00:00.003-05:00

At First Glance

By: Vicktor Alexander

The first time that I ever remember “seeing” Daniel, it was in a group on Goodreads, on a thread for members and authors of the group to mention their Twitter names. I remember seeing “shiki_boy” and thinking instantly that he was Indian…like from India. It took me a few days to realize that that was a bad preconceived notion and I felt duly shamefaced. The first time that I remember talking to him was on a different thread, in that same group, after I’d gone to welcome people to the group and I had “given” them all virtual bags full of floggers, whips, canes, paddles, lubes, condoms, etc. Daniel had asked me where his bag was and after I chuckled at him, I “gave” him one as well.

That was really when I saw him the first time. I would see his name pop up and read his comments but none of it really registered for me. He was some friendly, young man who was a part of the same book group that I was and I thought he was sweet, innocent and funny. I thought that we could be friends, but that was it. However, that first real exchange between us sparked off some neurons in my brain and I found myself looking for him in this group, looking forward to answering questions that he had or talking with him about nothing, and looking for him on Twitter. A friend of mine was the first one to tell me that I liked him, to which I pointed out, “I don’t even know the kid.” That apparently didn’t matter. When I decided to start two threads, one about being transgender, so that authors could have the same resources and ask questions for their books, and one about “poker, sex, Doms and toys”, or ways of spicing up a relationship, as well as dispelling myths about the BDSM Lifestyle, he was one of the first people to comment on both threads.

We got to be friends fairly quickly and it was so easy to talk to him about stupid things. When he started looking for Doms in his area that was the first time, in a long time, that I heard myself growl. Yes, just like a wolf or dangerous Rottweiler, I growled when I read that he was talking to and arranging meetings with Doms. I felt rather bad about it, seeing as how I was dating someone else at the time, and when my friends Jamie and Jerome asked me about it, I told them that it was just because I didn’t think he was being safe. The truth of the matter is, my soul, my spirit man (which even when I was a kid I was told that my spirit guide was a wolf) had already claimed Daniel as mine, my brain and heart just hadn’t caught up. I gave him pointers and encouraged him, told him what to be aware of and what to shy away from and when he went off on these meetings and I sat at home with my own boyfriend, I found my mind filled with thoughts and images of “The English Sub.”

When I moved to New York, single, free of the constraints of my biological family and their ideas of what is or is not acceptable, Daniel and I had begun talking and flirting on Twitter. I didn’t have to feel guilty about it anymore because I was single. Some part of my brain, I am very aware, had decided that I was going to stop at nothing to “win” Daniel and claim him as my own. I don’t know if I can say that I have “game,” but I do know that when I want something, I am rather blunt about it. Very open and honest. I wasn’t pulling punches with him, I was focused and determined. I didn’t know how it was going to work with him living in England and me living in New York, but all I knew was that he was mine.

Our relationship moved pretty fast after that and I know that it scared us both. To the point where there was a freak-out on both of our parts, but as I was talking to my writing group and talking about “straight” men who fall in love with “gay” men, I said that “Love is love. It will not be restricted by gender, race, time, class, religion education, wealth or lack thereof, physical appearance or society’s rules and expectations of what is acceptable. It doesn’t give a flying fuck. Love is just love.” I remember those words reaching out from my computer screen and slapping me around. Who was I to tell love that my relationship with Daniel was happening too fast? Who was I to tell love that there was no way that Daniel could be the one for me when we hadn’t known each other that long?

In my heart of hearts I know that some kind of way, Daniel and I would have still found each other. Our souls and hearts would have pulled us towards each other eventually because they are so intertwined and connected. I know when he needs to go to bed because I will start to get sleepy (and when it’s 8pm and you’re getting tired, you know there’s something wrong with that), he knows when I’m sick because he’ll feel it (“My stomach just started hurting for no reason today at work”). I think the moment I knew that we were meant for each other was one day I was coming home from a doctor’s appointment and I kept thinking about him, but every time I did, I would feel this pounding in my head. I knew that something was wrong with him, but wasn’t sure what it was. I got home and he’d had a bad day at work and had needed to talk to me.

As close as we are and as connected, we both sort of tensed up at the whole “Valentine’s Day” thing. I got him a present, but didn’t see the point in mailing it when I’d be seeing him a few weeks after that. Then the doubt set in, did I get the right thing? Was he going to like it? Was I going to have to sit around and listen to how “cheesy” I was for an hour after he saw it? Then I thought back to our first few conversations. I thought back to when I first saw him and while at first glance he seems like someone who would need a diamond platinum, jewel encrusted laptop as a gift, I knew that if I sent him a few paperback books or games or even the fruit flavored water that he calls “tea,” that he’d appreciate it.

So that’s the whole point to this post. Every year I see people scrambling around, trying to find the perfect, most expensive thing for their significant other, but that’s not what it’s about. This day that I used to call “Single Awareness Day,” is about showing to your significant other just how much they mean to you. There’s no better way of doing that then by showing them that you’ve listened to them as they’ve rambled on and on about nothing and you heard when they said that as a kid they had a yellow teddy bear that was lost in the hurricanes down South and you go and buy them another yellow teddy bear or you hear them say that they love playing a particular computer game and so you go and buy the newest release of that.

Valentine’s Day is simple because love, though powerful and all-consuming, is simple. Love simply states, “You are my beloved and I am yours.” That’s it, end of story. The rest of it is details and semantics. I love you, but this is what I believe. I love you, but this is what I want. I love you, but I need this. While the “course of true love never did run smooth” according to Shakespeare, I am a firm believer of love conquering all, if all of the parties involved truly want it too.

So while the love of my life will be in England today and I will be in New York, we both know that this will be the last year that we celebrate Valentine’s Day apart, because even if I have to move over to England and learn to spell donuts as doughnuts and traveling as travelling and call French fries “chips”, I know that I want to be with him. No matter what the insecurities and the doubts and the hesitations and fear on both of our parts, neither of us wants to or will give the other one up unless we think the other would be happier without us, which of course makes the other one of us stand up and call bullshit.

Enjoy the love of your life today, even if the love of your life is yourself for the time being. Let them know what they mean to you, let them know that you care. And for fuck’s sake, if you get them chocolate and they’re on a diet, do the courteous thing and help them eat them.

-Vicktor Alexander

Valentine's Day Blog Hop!

2012-02-11T00:00:00.001-05:00

It's that time of year - and what's better for Valentine's Day than a blog hop?

Leave a comment below, including your e-mail, for a chance to win a free pdf copy of any of my books - found at www.dcjuris.com.

It's that simple!

Good luck!!!

Friendly Friday - Featuring Lee Brazil!

2012-02-10T08:00:00.001-05:00

Reality Check?

How real do you want your fiction? No really, someone asked me that. When I stopped laughing, okay I still haven't stopped laughing, I told them I don't want reality in my fiction. Why you ask? Well let's take this one step at a time.

Let's see. First off, I live reality every day. It's not all it's cracked up to be. Reality is weather and people and work and stress. On any given day, I wake up, I start the coffee, and I take a shower and reality proceeds around me with unrelenting realness.

Until and unless I escape reality by hiding in a book. You know, books...where sex is fun and no one really has to brush off the afterglow to get a towel afterward? Okay, that was bad. It's a privilege to get the towel or washrag; it's a sign of caring, tenderness and affection. Besides, failing to think of the towel ahead of time means you weren't really planning, now does it? Kind of blows your Boy Scout image. Anyway, the fetching of the wash rag has made its way into romance novels. Yippee. Let's stop there, huh? That's as real as I want it to be.

How about this? In books, sex in the shower is not only possible but deeply thrilling and fulfilling. Because in the book, no one slips on the soap that you knocked out of the soap dish and bangs his head on the tile surround. No one flails around trying to save himself from falling, and knocks sixteen different bath, body and hair care products off the shelf. No one has to tap dance on slick porcelain to avoid getting his toes smashed by the falling bottles. No one grabs the shower curtain to stop himself from falling, thereby ripping the curtain off the hooks and spraying the entire bathroom with water. (Reality check #1 - Yeah- someone is gonna have to clean that up, and it's gonna totally ruin the mood- if there's any mood left after the near fall, and providing, of course, that no one has a concussion). Last but not least- where the heck do these book characters get the magical never ending supply of hot water? Seriously? I wish that were reality. I can barely get my hair washed and conditioned let alone blow someone before the hot water runs out. (Reality Check #2 - I'll tell you what, when the water turns from hot to ice, no one is getting anything in the shower).

So, yeah - Shower sex. One perfectly good reason why reality in erotic fiction is over rated.

Besides, as Albert Einstein said, Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

And here's an escape into a world I've created:

Truth or Dare #4 – Taking the Dare

Blurb

Morgan Hawke is happy with the status of his relationship with Dan Blake. After three years though, Dan's ready to move their relationship to the next level.

Having seen his brothers find love and settle into family life, Dan Blake has realized he's ready for change. The only problem with that is that his lover prefers to maintain the status quo. Dan's up for the challenge of changing Morgan's mind. He's got plans, and he's used to working behind the scenes to get his way.

Morgan can't understand the changes he sees in Dan. They've come a long way from the office of the bar where they met, but he's not sure he's ready to move their relationship from the shadows to the front pages. Publicity is okay for Dan, he's got the weight of the Blakes behind him, but Morgan isn't sure he's ready to let go of the past he's been clinging to.

Can Dan manipulate a happy ending for this script?

Want more?

Here's an Excerpt

"Hey, baby." Dan's call from several feet away sent a dash of cold water in Morgan's face. He shivered.

"Hey," his weak, hollow voice surprised Morgan. Earlier, in their room, hearing Dan call him "baby" had excited him. Now, his stomach churned a bit and the bitter, strong coffee Dan preferred sat like lead. At a loss, Morgan nervously shredded the buttery croissant on the table in front of him. He'd often wondered if Dan intentionally confused him, flipping from hot to cold, sweet to acid. But even for Dan this weekend's behavior was different.

At first he'd attributed Dan's strange attitude to his long absence, worried that Dan was through with him, maybe searching for a way to let him down easily. The weekend had put those doubts to rest, but now Dan's open attitude made him nervous.

To his shock, Dan leaned over to kiss his cheek lightly in greeting before sliding into the chair opposite him. He panicked over that while Dan sipped his coffee and grimaced. Morgan shook his head, trying to make sense of the other man's lack of discretion and became aware that Dan smiled at him peculiarly.

"What?" Something itched at the back of Morgan's mind. Inconceivable as it seemed, Dan was acting, putting on a show, playing a role for Morgan. Why?

"You're white. What's wrong, baby?"

Morgan floundered for an answer. Dan knew bloody fucking well what was wrong. He was playing with Morgan, toying with him for some unknown reason, and Morgan was off balance.

Fuck. The waiter approached to refill their cups, and surely he'd heard Dan's endearment? The young man remained expressionless as he topped up their coffee, and then silently indicated Morgan's shredded breakfast. Morgan nodded. His mouth was dry, and he doubted he could swallow anything anyway. The waiter scooped up the plate and left without speaking.

"Dan, someone will hear you." He managed in feeble protest. Sometimes being Dan Blake's lover was awesome. When you were the sole focus of those intent green eyes, the object of his attention, it was fucking glorious. But then, Dan was also a selfish bastard and an unmitigated prick at times. Like that nasty comment the other day about Morgan running when Dan called. Truth be told, he probably did run when Dan called, but mostly because he wanted very much to see Dan.

"Do you care if they do?"

He glared at Dan, grateful for the shades that hid his emotions, the flare of anger. Dan didn't have to care. The Blakes had it all. Studio, money, acceptance in society, it was all theirs by virtue of being born Blakes. They didn't have to worry about ever working, courting the right kind of publicity and appeasing the fickle public. They didn't have to worry about hurting someone they cared about. Above all else, the Blakes stood together, united against public scrutiny. They stared down adverse publicity, weathered scandal, together. He didn't have that.

Bio

I’m an avid reader and former teacher of grammar and composition who believes that falling in love is the grandest adventure anyone can have. In a nutshell, that’s every story I have to tell.

Relocating from the crazy pace of life in Southern California's Orange County to the beautiful and leisurely atmosphere of the Illinois countryside has given me the time to indulge the desire to write that I set aside when I started teaching fourteen years ago. Readers can find out more about me and my writing by visiting me at my blog, Lee's Musings or finding me on Facebook. Feel free to drop me a line at lee.brazil@ymail.com

Find Lee On line

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Lee on FB

Lee on Twitter @leebrazil

Lee Blog

Please Welcome Special Guest Sonia Hightower!

2012-02-06T08:00:00.002-05:00

SONIA HIGHTOWER BROKE THE RULES

So...I broke just about every cardinal rule when I wrote my recently released erotic novel. I tackle a taboo subject...or two and I broke three rules.

First, we've got a priest, poor Father Delgado. We've got a confessional. (Gasp!) But no, the priest, himself, never does anything wrong... Rest easy. However, a lot of publishers will not permit a priest in an erotic tale in any way. So that's the first rule I broke.

The second rule I broke...adultery. See, this isn't a story of love, but a story of lust. Juan and Maria simply can't resist each other. The story does not condone adultery, but I'm going to leave you guessing as to what I mean there. There's a reason I call this erotic with a twist.

The third rule I broke: the lack of a HEA ending. It doesn't have one, because, really, what kind of adulterous tale ends happily? Adultery hurts all involved, those committing it may face repercussions, the innocent spouses are getting their hearts broke, and the children of the marriages will face the aftermath forever. So, no, there's no Happily Ever After in this... but there is a surprise.

Want to find out? Is your curiosity piqued? Buy the book. It's only 99 cents. :)

BUY HERE

Blurb:

Follow the confessions of Juan and Maria as they fall prey to lust at first sight. Can they stop themselves before it's too late, or will they become victims of their own sinful urges?

A new neighbor sends Juan running to confession to rid himself of the lustful thoughts he experiences. Each confession becomes more erotic, more sinful than the last. Can Juan stop himself, or will he give in to the desire that threatens his very faith?

The man across the street causes Maria to question her own morals. When she seeks out a priest for confession, she weaves a tale of exotic kisses and stolen moments. How can Maria find sanctuary in her prayers when her body demands she finds solace in her neighbor's arms?

Author's website

Author on Facebook

Sinful Urges on Facebook

An Open Letter to RWA & Romance Writers Ink

2012-02-05T18:17:00.000-05:00

"Cass, please, just listen to me for a second. I love you. You love me. There's nothing wrong with that." John ran a hand thorough his hair. They'd been over this time and again. But this time Cassidy seemed serious about leaving him. Two seconds away from going down on his knees and begging, John reached for Cassidy's arm. "Please, let's just talk about this."

Cassidy pulled away, hands shaking. "You know it can't be. My family will never accept this."

"Baby, you knew this would be a struggle. But we're worth it, aren't we?" John crossed the room and picked up a framed picture of the two of them. "Remember this?" He held out the photo to Cassidy. "New Orleans, last year? Look at how happy we were together."

Cassidy took the photo and ran a finger over the glass. "We're always happy together."

"Exactly!" Encouraged, John pointed to another memento - an engraved vase friends had given them for their first anniversary. "Remember that? Our one year party? Everyone was there. Sure, not our families, but our friends, the people who really matter. Remember dancing all night? Remember Mindy trying to swing dance from the drapes?"

Cassidy burst into laughter. "She took out the buffet table."

"She did!" John couldn't suppress his own laughter. "And remember what else happened? How almost everyone toasted us? What did Bob and Alice say?"

Cassidy smiled. "That we were the best example of a happy couple they'd ever know."

"Yes! Baby,"--John took Cassidy's hands--"they were right. We work. You can't deny that."

"No, I can't." Cassidy sighed. "But my family can."

"So what? Did you like every girl your brother has ever dated? Hell, do you like his wife?"

"Not really, no. She's kind of a bitch," Cassidy admitted with a shy smile.

"Baby, everyone's not always going to get along with each other in the world. Some people are going to love you, some are going to hate you. But what's important is how you feel about yourself. And if I let you walk out that door, I'll hate myself for the rest of my life." John squeezed Cassidy's hands tight.

"Would you hate me? If I walked out?" Cassidy asked, voice barely a whisper.

John swallowed hard. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be how everything ended. "No. God...I could never hate you. Not for following your heart."

Cassidy smiled. "That's the difference, isn't it? You could never hate me for following my heart, but my family could." Cassidy pulled a hand away and cupped John's cheek. "That's the difference."

"Does that mean you're staying?" John held his breath, his entire life hinging on the answer.

Cassidy nodded. "Yeah. Where am I gonna go, anyhow?" Cassidy gestured around the apartment. "All my stuff is here."

John pulled the man of his dreams into his arms and held on tight. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve Cassidy, but he'd give his life before he ever let go.

Dear Romance Writers Ink,

You liked these characters two lines ago. You rooted for them. Did they become lesser?

Or did you?

Sincerely,

DC Juris

Friendly Friday - Featuring Johnny Miles

2012-02-03T08:00:00.012-05:00

In 1985, shortly after my first story was accepted for publication in Blueboy magazine, I became friends with Dana, the photographer, graphic artist, and chief art editor. He was a jack of all trades and had a penchant for Latin men. In fact, when he started filming solos, then later graduated to duos, trios, and groups, I’d sometimes be on set watching him work. If I was really, really, really well behaved, Dana would let me oil up the models though that was usually his job. Only he got to oil up and only he got to fluff.

To try and get the models to relax, Dana would often chat with them before hand, during, and even after. On one such occasion, there was a particular young hispanic who was extremely inexperienced. Having only ever done hustling before doing print work, he was very self-conscious about the way he posed, even with Dana’s coaxing. So, after a while, he just closed his eyes and started thinking about whatever it was he needed to in order to…you know…make things work.

While busy stroking away, eyes shut tight in concentration, Dana asked in a soft voice what it was the young man was thinking of.

“My uncle,” he replied without skipping a beat, sounding as if he were hypnotized or under some sort of magic spell. Then he added, “My cousin. My brother.”

He went on to tell us of something that happened to him that was both appalling and thrilling all at the same time. Both Dana and I wondered afterwards if it had really happened but life being what it is, it probably did.

The young man’s story struck me and stuck with me all these many years later. In fact, I’ve always wanted to write about it but never did. Until now.

And so, “The Rosas of Spanish Harlem” was born.

Yes, I’ve carried the story around in my mind for 27 years. During that time the story has morphed and evolved into something extremely different from the original. In fact, it’s all different. There are very few similarities between the version I wrote and what supposedly happened to the young man Dana filmed. There’s a brother, and it takes place in Spanish Harlem. Aside from that, there are no other similarities.

One of the many things I find fascinating about writing is how one single planted seed can germinate, grow and blossom into something all of it’s own. Another thing I find interesting is how ideas transform themselves. I went from having the lead in the story be a young Latino male, to a caucasian man, and finally, to an 18-year-old high school graduate who liked to dress in girl’s clothing. Why? I don’t know. It just made sense that way.

I think once I started writing the story, even though it wasn’t meant to see the light of day -- it was originally only intended for me, to get me sparked again about writing -- Tracy wanted to explore his femininity. More importantly, Tracy didn’t want to be just another gay guy. He wanted to stand out and have the courage to be who he wanted to be no matter what.

In the story, like many of us, the young man is hellbent on losing his virginity except he doesn’t know how to go about it. But you know the old adage; be careful what you wish for?

Tracy winds up discovering something that, for many of us gay men of a certain generation was a fact of life: sex in public restrooms. As dangerous, frightening and repulsive as it sometimes was, discovering glory holes, foot tapping and all that other stuff that went on was -- for better or worse -- a rite of passage.

And isn’t it often the most dangerous, taboo things in life that attract us the most?

From that point on in, Tracy goes on an adventure through Spanish Harlem where the language is different, the music has a different flavor, and danger lurks in the most unexpected of places.

I don’t remember the name of the young man Dana filmed. I vaguely remember what he even looks like, though I can guarantee you nothing like the lead in this story. I only hope that -- if he’s still around -- he’s stopped being the victim, stopped living on the street, and found his very own happy ending.

Special thanks to DC Juris for not only having me, but also for encouraging me to submit the story for publication.

Blurb:

It’s summer of 1977 and sex is on Tracy McCarthy’s mind. He’s now 18 and hell-bent on losing his virginity when he spots Angel on the beach. After discovering restroom sex — and meeting the handsome Latino Angel Rosa again — Angel invites Tracy up to Spanish Harlem for more.

When Tracy makes the long trek by subway up to Spanish Harlem, he’s exposed to a vibrantly different way of living; one filled with spicy foods, rhythmic music, and sexually-charged men. Along the way, however, the waif-like, cross-dressing young man also discovers that on the path to finding what he seeks, dark and disturbing dangers lurk — in the minds of men, walking the streets, and in the hallways of Spanish Harlem tenements.

Growing up always contains surprises but will Tracy like the ones he finds on the way?

Excerpt:

Brighton Beach was practically empty when I climbed the steps from the street up to the boardwalk. I could have walked beneath it, but that was something I usually left as a treat for myself at the end of the day. After spending hours baking in the sun, it was refreshing to sink my toes into the cold damp sand beneath the elevated walkway.

In a way, it was mysterious, foreboding, and exciting. If I was lucky, a guy would stand still long enough for me to look up the inside of his shorts between the cracks and gaps of wood. If I was really lucky, he’d have no underwear on. Not that they were aware, mind you. It was just one of those happy accidents where you happened to be at the right place at the right time. In fact, if any of them knew about the pervy boy ogling their stuff, they’d probably chase after me and beat me to a pulp. Brooklyn men weren’t exactly known for being gay-friendly. At least not in public.

The other thing that intrigued me about walking beneath the boardwalk was all the litter. It consisted mostly of shattered glass bottles and empty cans. Every once in a while, you’d come across a syringe or a used tampon. But the one thing you could

always count on were used condoms—lots of them. I’d think of all that cock, all those people out there having sex, enjoying themselves, having a good time connecting.

I was hungry for the same thing.

Once I stumbled upon a condom that looked as if it had only recently been used. It had been stretched out quite a bit, and I was so intrigued I picked up it gingerly between thumb and forefinger and held it up. I was astonished at how much cum there was in there.

Unfortunately, the boardwalk could also be dangerous. More than once I’d seen homeless people hanging out. That wasn’t bad, because all they’d ask for was money; it was the group of older boys that scared, yet excited me. I had this fantasy that they would stop me, accost me, toss me around for a bit, then strip me naked in a playful manner and have their way with me.

In reality, what could happen to me was nothing like what I envisioned, and none of it had to do with sex.

Despite the dangers, the thought of feasting my young, horny eyes on a big pair of balls and a thick, meaty cock made me feel even hornier than I already was. I pushed my thoughts away and took in the last few moments of silence before the crowds came; the shop owners hadn’t opened up yet to hawk their wares and even the seagulls seemed hesitant to molest the quiet.

In the distance, to my right, Coney Island beckoned with all its gaudiness and tacky amusement rides. I used to love going there as a child. Any other time, and I would have stayed on the train two more stops—end of the line—but after the argument that morning, I preferred the quieter end of things.

I crossed the boardwalk to the beach side and drank in the vast expanse of ocean. The ocean breeze caressed my skin, and I inhaled the salty air deep into my lungs. All the tension I’d felt earlier seemed to evaporate.

Yes, this is definitely where I need to be today.

The only other people around were the city workers and the dirty old men—most of them Eastern European immigrants who sat on the benches all day, facing the ocean to ogle whatever it was that caught their fancy through the binoculars strapped around their necks.

Overhead, a rogue seagull screeched and hovered nearby, daring to break the silence and beg for scraps. It pulled me out of my reverie. With a peaceful sigh, I gripped the metal railing and made my way down the stairs, onto the sand.

To my right, a big, beefy black janitor with a shiny, bald head whistled, glancing from side to side as he unlocked the public men’s room, then disappeared inside with a metal bucket on wheels and a large mop with a dirty head.

I trudged along the beach, sand between the bottom of my feet and the flip-flops I wore, until I found the spot. I shrugged the oversize canvas bag from my shoulder. I pulled out one of my old cum-stained sheets from my twin bed and shook it. It fluttered in the breeze, flapping like a flag before finally falling gently to the sand, where I anchored it with a flip-flop at either corner. Then I placed the bag at the top corner, to my right. I pulled out the thermos filled with grape soda and propped it at the other corner, burying it a little in the sand.

Satisfied, I pulled out my towel and made a pillow out of it as the surf began to churn a bit more urgently. I pulled off my bloodred tank top then undid the top button of my cut-off jean shorts. They fell to my ankles.

I imagined one or two of the old geezers on the boardwalk, sitting on their bench, binoculars glued to their eyes as they trained on my slim, lithe body.

Eat your hearts out, I thought and bent over dramatically to step out of my shorts. I envisioned the old men leering and licking their sandpapery, wrinkled lips as I stood up straight, hands on hips.

I still wore my sister’s pink panties.

With a nasty, playful glee at whomever—if anyone—was watching me, I plopped down on the sheet and proceeded to apply baby oil to every inch of exposed flesh. Then I leaned on one elbow, and after fiddling with my transistor radio—using only my fingertips to avoid getting too much oil on the dials—I found the AM music station I liked. My favorite song was on. “Afternoon Delight” by the Starland Vocal Band.

Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight

gonna grab some afternoon delight.

My motto’s always been: when it’s right, it’s right.

Why wait until the middle of a cold, dark night.

Half humming, half singing, I lay down, closed my eyes, and was soon asleep under the hot, prickly sun.

* * * *

Voices carried on the wind. A woman giggled. There were soft whispers, and a man laughed. Something about them made me stir. I could tell they were young but still a little older than me.

“No, papi. Stop it. I already told you. Not here.”

“Aw, c’mon, baby. Who’s gonna see?” The man was cajoling, somewhat syrupy. He definitely wanted something.

“Roll your bod! Roll your bod!” This from the radio, which was fading. The nine-volt battery was dying.

I came awake and slowly rolled over, realizing I’d probably been asleep longer than I should have been. Tomorrow I’d have a real nice sunburn.

I looked up slowly, discreetly. A young Puerto Rican couple lay on a blanket about 10 feet away from me.

The woman was a typical Latina: big boobs, wide hips, a sensual mouth. She looked to be in her early twenties. Her wavy black hair blew in her face. She reached for it, pulled it from her mouth, and tucked it behind her ear.

The man was about twenty-four, and his skin was the color of caramel. His body was lean, toned, and perfectly smooth. His hair was black, and he wore it tight to his scalp. I got the impression he was quite a charmer. How else could he get away with calling her babe or mami?

It was obvious to me they were doing their best to keep their voices low, but they might as well have been talking out loud. Their whispers carried in the wind, and I could hear them as clearly as if they were beside me.

I propped my chin on folded arms and closed my eyes to slits so it would appear as if I were still sleeping. It helped that my hair was loose and wind-tossed, covering half my face.

The young man’s fingers tugged at the side of the tiny triangular patch of cloth covering his girlfriend’s pussy.

“Angel, no! Stop it, papi!”

She slapped his hand, but I could tell she was just as aroused as he was. I could sense that all he had to do was push a little harder and he’d soon get what he wanted.

Pulse racing, my small cock now fully erect, I ground into the sand to readjust myself and continued watching them.

Angel succeeded in pulling the material of her bathing suit to one side and exposed her shaved pussy. I gulped and found myself inexplicably thirsty quite suddenly.

“Papi, no. Please.” She hissed, then moaned as Angel inserted his fingers into her pussy. A small sound escaped my throat, as if I could feel what he was doing to her. He cast a glance in my direction, and I froze. After a moment, satisfied they weren’t being watched, Angel turned his attention back to the girl lying on her side before him.

She parted her lips and threw her head back, eyes closed. Angel chuckled. There was something lewd, sexy, and seductive about it.

I watched him wriggle his fingers inside her, pumping them in and out a few times before pulling out completely and sucking on them, one finger at a time. Then he brought them back down between her legs, finger fucked her some more, and pulled them out only to insert them in her mouth. She slurped on them noisily, greedily.

And all I could do was imagine I was her.

“You’re so fucking wet!” Angel whispered, his voice carrying on the wind.

“Ahhh! You’re such a pig, Angel!” Although she complained, she did nothing to stop him. “Don’t you ever get enough?”

In response, Angel pulled his fingers out of her pussy, then reached for the waistband of his black Speedos. Out flopped a large, fat, uncut cock. My eyes bugged out at the sight of him casually stroking the thick, meaty shaft in the open.

I briefly wondered if any of the old buggers on the benches could see what I was watching, and suddenly realized why they had those binoculars. For unexpected moments like this.

“Mira, mami,” Angel said. She glanced down at his cock and chewed her lower lip. “See what you do to me?”

He pulled the foreskin back, exposing the head. He looked even wetter than she did as he rubbed the tip up and down her fleshy folds. She moaned. Slowly, Angel slipped his cock inside her, filling her completely one glorious inch at a time as he placed a hand on her ass and pulled her hips closer.

Angel had stopped glancing around by this point, and I doubt either of them cared anymore if anyone was looking. With the length of his cock inside her pussy, they started to kiss.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.

“Shhh! It’s okay, baby. No one’s looking. Besides, there’s only a few people nearby.”

“What about that girl?”

“What girl?” Angel asked. I blushed at the realization she was talking about me.

“That girl. Down there.” She raised her leg slightly and pointed toward me with her toes. I remained perfectly still, hair in my face. I closed my eyes just in case, grateful I’d rolled over onto my stomach. I might have a small dick, but an erection is an erection, and I’d have given myself away. Not to mention that I probably wouldn’t be able to see what was happening as well as I could now.

“Honey, she’s sunning herself topless. You think she’s gonna care if we’re fucking out in the open?”

Seconds later I heard slurping noises. I dared to open my eyes and looked up to see them kissing. Their hips gently rocked to and fro. Their movement was barely perceptible, but it was apparently enough to cause the right amount of friction. One of them sighed, the other gasped.

Unable to believe what was happening, I could feel precum oozing from my cock as if it were a small faucet with a leak.

Soon she was moving back and forth more quickly than he was. I could see a bit more of the underside of his shaft; it looked slick and wet from sweat and pussy juice.

My pulse was pumping in my head and my dick was throbbing as I continued to watch. I longed to crawl on my hands and knees between their legs and lick them both, but I fought the urge.

A bit more brazen now that he was lost in the excitement, Angel rolled the girl over, moving with her without pulling out. Now on her back, she spread her legs and placed her hands on his ass. He corkscrewed discreetly, pushing in and pulling out of her ever so slightly. His hip movement would’ve been easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. But I could tell. His ass cheeks dimpled as he ground into her; I could see the hollows even through his bathing suit.

As I watched them fuck, I pressed my own erection into the sand, moving my hips from side to side. I was close.

The girl suddenly gave a single, soft moan, and her entire body shuddered. Seconds later, Angel sighed, and I followed with a load of my own.

My heart was in my throat, and although I’d just come, I was now hornier than ever. My pulse raced and hormones raged. What with having just watched the couple before me, the heat of the sun, and the sound of the surf, I could barely control myself. In that moment I understood how someone might become so frantic with desire they’d pounce on the first person they saw without thought or regard to consequence.

Fuck first; ask questions later. That pretty much summed up what I was feeling.

At that moment, even though I didn’t like girls, I’d have gladly eaten her pussy just to get a taste of him. Of course, I would have preferred to suck him and sample the juices from his foreskin, but there was no chance of that happening, no matter how much I wanted it.

Frustrated, I rolled over, stood up, and raced into the ocean. I imagined myself as a red-hot poker, glowing while steam rose as I submerged myself. A moment later, I burst through the surface and bobbed in the water as my breathing went back to normal.

I’ve just got to get my hands on some dick. Oh, please! I’m so fucking horny!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I glanced toward the beach and saw Angel stand. Even from that distance, I could see him reach inside the pouch of his suit and readjust himself. He swaggered as he walked toward the ocean and, even though he was now soft, I could see the outline of his cock as he drew near. His balls looked to be huge, round, and smooshed up against either side of the now soft length of meat.

Obsessed with Angel, his cock, and the image of him fucking, I decided to leave the beach. I could no longer stay there. I had to get off, and masturbating alone wouldn’t satisfy me. I simply had to find cock! But where? How? It wasn’t the kind of thing they taught you in school. Then it hit me.

I know. I’ll go under the boardwalk.

With all those used condoms I kept finding, I was bound to run into someone horny enough who didn’t care whether he got a blowjob from a boy or a girl. But would there be anybody there at this hour, cruising around and looking for trouble?

I clambered out of the water, walked back to my spot, and quickly packed up my stuff.

Like what you read? Click HERE to purchase!

Find Johnny online at:

www.johnny-miles.com

http://johnny-miles.blogspot.com

Guest post at The Purple Fantasy Den

2012-02-01T17:55:00.001-05:00

Go check it out!

http://vicktor-alexander.blogspot.com/2012/02/im-not-man-but-i-play-one-in-real-life.html?zx=88aaba631affb073

Adventures in Gluten Free Eating

2012-02-01T10:00:00.000-05:00

So I've tried a couple new gluten free products, and wanted to share my thoughts.

1. Schar brand Cioccolini - biscuits w. cocoa filling. OMG YUM! These are really good! They're dry, but they have a nice texture, and the middle is creamy. They have a pretty good shelf life, too: I bought them, opened them, then forgot about them for probably a month, and they're still fresh.

2. Schar brand Ciabatta rolls. These were pretty good, as gluten free rolls go. I didn't follow the instructions - I just popped them in the oven for a sec, and then another two I just ate without baking them. Yum!

3. Schar brand Classic White Bread. Very good, especially toasted!

4. Schar brand Crispbread cracker-like things. Um...yeah. Not for me. Really like eating styrofoam.

5. Schar brand Table Crackers. Really, really good! Think unsalted saltines. Good stuff!

6. Schar brand Wafers - chocolate hazelnut, cocoa, and vanilla. Y.U. M. Like sugar wafters, but gluten free.

7. Schar brand bread crumbs. I may have shared this one before - I can't remember. These were pretty good. Not quite what you're looking for if you want fried chicken, but not bad at all!

Please welcome Xavier Axelson to My Blog!

2012-01-31T00:01:00.002-05:00

Thanks to DC for hosting me during my Virtual Book Tour for Lily, my first paranormal romance!

The release of this book taught me many things. I never think when I’m writing, “hmmm, I wonder what this book is going to teach me,” but, somehow I always get schooled by my own hand. Writing the story is only the first step. It is the first step on a journey that will lead you down many paths; some beautiful, some an utter and complete slog. You will encounter monsters within and without and have to deal with both gracefully. Isn’t that a bitch?

Lily isn’t just about loss but also about being brave enough to accept the unknown into ones life. Shadowy and mysterious; the woods are unknown to Pryor, they represent the very thing that has stolen his child from him but, it may also hold the very thing he so desperately desires. Lily is about being brave enough to traverse the woods and search out its depths to discover something new, something forgotten or, as in Pryor’s case, something lost.

Being brave is not magical, or paranormal, but it is essential, it is how we move past horrible events, and find new places in the woods to grow things and evolve. I have always found wonderment in the woods; in fact, the woods in Lily are based on the woods I played in as a kid. There was danger there for sure, but also much enjoyment and plenty of room for imagination to take root.

As January dies away and the unknown February looms ahead, I am looking forward to another month of exploring the woods, hacking through the unknown and forging a new path into the depths of the creative, the dark and the sexual.

Here’s a taste of Lily:

Excerpt:

The mention of jewelry made me think of Lily, "You said you had some pieces to show me?"

"You in a hurry?"

"No, I just keep forgetting, guess I'm not used to drinking," I said as I took another drink from the quickly disappearing beer number two.

"I thought you might need a break from your house and those woods." Ned wasn't looking at me when he spoke.

"Maybe I did." I looked where he was looking and saw a fat little dog playing with a couple of kids in the yard just over to the left of Consetta's property.

"Life goes on, don't it?"

"I don't know, my life seems to have stopped." I grabbed another beer and took the bottle opener magnet Ned must have brought down with him.

"That's what you think; your life is still moving, you've just stopped moving with it."

"Guess losing a kid—no wait, I mean having your kid taken and then finding out she's a werewolf—will put the brakes on things. Guess maybe that's why my life has stopped." The anger came fast and furious. I could see the spit spray from my mouth as I spoke.

"Pryor, you don't know that's Lily, you just don't know."

"I fucking know. I know my own goddamned daughter." I stood up, the beer bottle fell from my hands. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Pryor, wait!"

I heard him call out but I couldn't turn around, my anger was blinding me or maybe it was sweat or tears but whatever it was I couldn't stop.

I was halfway to my car when I felt his arms around me. Feeling him, the warmth of his arms and the close pounding of his heart practically made me stop breathing. I let out an agonized groan that sounded primal in the quiet air. I pulled away and at first, I thought he was letting go but he was only shifting to pull me closer. I felt his teeth graze my neck and he said something I couldn't understand between gritted teeth, a rasp of a sound. He pushed me against the car and I felt my head hit the edge of the roof.

Where to find Xavier Axelson:

http://www.facebook.com/xaviersaxel

http://www.twitter.com/xaviersaxel

http://www.examiner.com/la-in-los-angeles/francis-xavier

http://www.xavieraxelson.com

Buylink:

http://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/lily-ebook-p-714

Guest Interview at Raine Delight's Blog

2012-01-29T14:20:00.002-05:00

http://authorrainedelight.wordpress.com/2012/01/29/welcome-dc-juris-today-2/

4 Kisses for Betrayed!

2012-01-29T14:18:00.001-05:00

http://top2bottomreviews.wordpress.com/2012/01/29/betrayed-by-d-c-juris/

Friendly Friday - Featuring Xakara

2012-01-27T08:00:00.002-05:00

Greetings, Kittens!

Thanks to Dan for having me and to all of you for indulging me. I thought I’d kick off my first guest post by sharing a bit of celebration with you all. Today is a release day! I’m one of four authors contributing to the LOVE NOTES anthology from Musa Publishing! My newest Therian novella, ITS SWEETEST FORM, is the first “straight-ish” menage that I’ve written and it’s available to you all just in time for Valentine’s Day. What better holiday to explore a new form? But don’t get use to the MFM format, I’ll be back to MMF and MMFF soon enough. I prefer my when my “Fs” and “Ms” are touching. *Grin*

ITS SWEETEST FORM is the story of Eaton, Brahm and Tessa, a vampire, werewolf and psychic medium who share a loft and a love for each other, that finally finds a way to bloom under pressure.

This third Therian release pays partial homage to a BBC/SyFy show, but the similarities stop at being roommates. Sorry if I got your hopes up. *Grin* Here’s the official blurb for LOVE NOTES and an excerpt to give you a taste of the MFM menage ITS SWEETEST FORM.

Enjoy.

Blurb:

The magic of words on paper and lovers meeting again and again.
Love is never a lost cause, and sometimes all it takes is a few special words written down to make all the difference in the world. Wayward cupids, lonely vampires, long-lost loves, and mysterious strangers come together in this collection sure to warm your heart and steam up your screen. Read our Love Notes from cover to cover, and then maybe write a few letters of your own!

Excerpt:

Tessa draped her leg over Brahm’s hip. “Not that I’m ignoring the side commentary, which is highly entertaining, and I plan to come back to it later, but on the topic at hand. With my leg here, and your hands wherever you need them to be, where are your legs in this position?”

A bit of unnecessary rubbing and vicarious thrills later and Brahm gave up. “I have no idea. This position doesn’t lend itself to dual penetration well. I mean it’s not impossible, but it’s shallow even one-on-one. If he’s already inside of you at this point, the best I could do with your leg right here is watch your faces as he rode you from behind.” He looked at Eaton against his will and quickly looked away.

“If you wanted a penetration scene in this position, we’d have to put your leg higher.” Brahm lifted her leg up towards his shoulder. “Then I could come under enough to thrust. But ideally,” he laid her leg across his mid-back. “You’d give me your weight a little, without coming fully forward.”

“I get it,” Eaton said. He came up, braced on his left arm and put his right hand on her hip. “I could thrust from this position without coming out and still be gentle. I can do it without putting too much weight on either of you.”

“Awesome.” Tessa brought her leg down and turned enough to look at Eaton.

“Okay, so then is this the position the two of you would choose?” She looked to Brahm. “Does it feel natural?”

“I guess.” Eaton shrugged. “I think it works for the scene.”

Tessa sighed. “Don’t guess, answer personally.” She scooted up and looked at Brahm. “If this was the three of us, is this the position you’d want the first timeyou were both inside of me?”

Brahm swallowed and smiled. “Can I plead the fifth?”

“No,” They said in unison.

Eaton sat up. “Why would you need to plead the fifth? Are we about to get to your ish that you haven’t told me about?”

“Yeah, shut up.” Brahm kissed Tessa’s forehead. “I do this for you alone.” He rearranged them all with his back to the headboard, Tessa straddled over his lap, and Eaton kneeling behind her. “This is what I’d want if it were us. It has advantages.” He put his hands under her thighs and casually lifted her, the way shifters pretended to never notice they were doing. “Eats, put your legs over mine. Wait, not with the jeans.”

Eaton left the bed, shed his jeans and returned to his place in shy of a blur. “Where do you want me exactly?”

It took an extra mental breath before Brahm could answer without laughing. “Slide your legs over mine. Let me know if you need room behind me.”

It took a second or two of adjustment and Eaton nodded. “I need just a little space.”

Brahm put one arm around both of them and shifted them all forward.

“Pssh.” Eaton shook his head. “Now you’re just showing off.”

He was showing off. “I can’t help it. It’s the Wolf me in. You show me you can dematerialize clothes, I show you I can bench press our combined weight, we both hope we’ve impressed the girl. Alpha behavior at its best.”

Eaton laughed. “I thought Tessa trained all of the alpha behavior out of us?”

“Excuse me,” she said. “Leaving the seat up is not alpha behavior, it’s just rude.”

“She’s right,” Brahm agreed. “And speaking of rude, we’re supposed to be focusing on helping.”

“No,” Tessa said. “This is good. The side banter makes it easier, right? It feels more natural, so it’s comfortable. Speaking of which — ” she grabbed the pillow beside them “ — you need this behind you to close the gap.”

“Yes, comfort and advantages. Let’s see.” He reached back and adjusted the pillows. “Okay, so like this I can adjust my angle of thrust.” He slipped his arms around her. “I have access to either hold you close or to lean back and touch your face and breasts.” He put his hands on her hips and nodded when Eaton did the same. “You can control the depth and speed, or relax and let us move you between us. All three of us can reach your clit without impeding moment. If I lean back and I can watch myself move inside you.”

He closed his eyes and mentally counted the length of his breaths. “I can feel Eaton moving and stay in rhythm with him.” He ran his hands from Eaton’s legs, to her hips and back again. “I can signal him with my hands on his legs for the moments when I’m not thinking enough in words to speak.” He opened his eyes and smiled through the sudden crush of feeling vulnerable and naked in saying it all out loud. “I can watch your faces. I can see the impact of when I move or choose to hold still. I can read the micro expressions that come before the sounds and the next thrust.”

Eaton let out a shaky breath. “That’s…detailed.”

Xakara is an openly Bisexual author of erotic, polyamorous paranormal romance, with an emphasis on creating bisexual and sexually fluid characters and cultures.

Her real life culture clash came when she moved from the American Midwest and became a recent transplant to beautiful New Mexico. She lives overlooking the Sandia Mountains with her long time sweetie and a handful of friends that are like family. Equally splitting her time between the worlds in her head and the world around her, she manages to find her way through life with a smile and zen-vibe that carries her and her heroines through the tough times.

Becoming a paranormal romance author was a happy accident when she chose to write a short novella to clear her mind of edits on her first urban fantasy novel, Bloodsprite. Now she finds she enjoys the focus on the relationships and loves traversing the two genres and finding new ways to define both.

Xakara.com

CONTEST TIME!!

2012-01-26T13:02:00.000-05:00

Head on over to Love Romances and More, check out my interview, leave a comment, and you'll be entered to win a free PDF copy of my newest release, "Betrayed!"

http://loveromancesandmore.blogspot.com/2012/01/welcome-guest-author-dc-juris.html

Guest interview...

2012-01-25T14:53:00.002-05:00

I'm over at Dawn's Reading Nook today! Go check it out!

http://dawnsreadingnook.blogspot.com/2012/01/talking-with-dc-juris.html?zx=1fc1f85fc52b7399

Coffee & Porn in the Morning First Birthday Bash!!

2012-01-23T08:00:00.002-05:00

Coffee and Porn in the Morning is turning 1! Go check out their birthday bash, featuring free fiction (including a little offering from yours truly) and prizes!!

Guesting at Sue Brown's

2012-01-22T13:16:00.002-05:00

I'm over at Sue Brown's blog today with a little guest post and an exclusive excerpt from "Betrayed." Go check it out!!

http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.com/2012/01/welcome-to-dc-juris.html?zx=362280b983d516b0

Friendly Friday - Featuring Kiernan Kelly!!

2012-01-20T08:00:00.002-05:00

Mr. Piano Man, can you play me some "My Holiday Visa Bill Just Came In and I May Have to Sell a Kidney Blues"?

by Kiernan Kelly

Why is it during the month of December – in my house, anyway – money ceases to have meaning? It becomes nothing but a series of numbers randomly flashing across register and ATM LCD screens, a flurry of random, theoretical symbols generated by sliding a thin piece of plastic through a reader, holding no connection whatsoever to the real world.

Come January, though, the blindness caused by all the twinkling lights fades away, and I realize that while I've been staring like a slack-jawed idiot at the tinsel-covered trees, distracted by all the sparkly ornaments and red-nosed reindeer, the elves have been sacking my bank account. Those theoretical numbers actually do have meaning, and what's more, they represent a gaggle of businesses who fully expect me to send them the money represented by those numbers.

Which is way more than I thought I was spending at the time. I call it the Kris Kringle Paradigm – during the holiday season, objects cost more collectively than originally calculated. In other words, when the holiday shopper is running solely on Venti cups of Starbuck's Peppermint Mocha and toothpick samples of food court cuisine while navigating crowds, dodging perfume counter salespeople armed with atomizers, elbowing their way through sales racks, and juggling fifty shopping bags, while trying to figure out what the hell to buy Aunt Sally because the woman has freaking everything, keeping a mental tally of how much the shopper is actually spending can result in dire miscalculations.

In other words, I spent too damned much.

What's worse, I make the same mistake every freaking year.

You'd think I'd learn to pay in cash. Cold, hard cash isn’t theoretical; it has a physical presence. If I have to fork it over at the register, bill by bill, watching my small stack of hard-earned twenties dwindle with every purchase, I'd be more likely to reconsider whether Uncle Filbert really needs the $100 sterling silver remote control caddy, or if he'd be just as happy getting "True Grit" on Blue-ray for $25. Heck, does he even need the Blue-ray version? Make that the regular DVD, $12, tops.

...ooh, look! True Grit in paperback is only $7.99. We have a winner.

And therein, folks, lies the solution to the After Holiday Credit Card Crunch – books. If everyone bought everyone else a book for the holidays (and I have several I'd like to recommend, wink, wink, nudge, nudge), then the shock generated by our credit card bills come January would be considerably less. Just think! No more emergency room visits, feebly waving our credit card statements and gasping for air. Why, our savings in Mylanta and Tums alone might just be enough to balance the U.S. budget and save the economy.

Think about it. Books are the ideal gift. There's one for every taste, every age, every...everything. They provide hours upon hours of undiluted, commercial-free entertainment, and you can use them over and over again without any additional charge. There are romance novels to feed our souls, cooking books to delight our palates, nonfiction to broaden our horizons, mysteries to boggle our minds, horror to still our hearts, fantasy to fuel our imaginations, westerns, historical, contemporaries, children's, young adult....well, the list is as wide and diverse as the human experience.

The good news is that people seem to be catching on to this idea, and in record numbers. Retailers like Amazon and Barnes and Noble report that sales of ebook readers (more affordable this year than ever before!) and ebooks have skyrocketed again this season, boosting their sales exponentially. Paperless reading is making headway into the traditional print market, but whether you read physical books or ebooks or some mix of the two is really a moot point – the fact that you're reading is what's important, as well as the idea of people buying ebook readers and books as holiday gifts.

My New Year's Resolution this year is to avoid the Kris Kringle Paradigm next holiday season by writing "e-reader" or "book" next to every name on my shopping list.

With the money I'll save, I just might treat myself to that sterling silver remote control caddy I've had my eye on.

BIO:

Kiernan Kelly lives in the wilds of the alligator-infested U.S. Southeast, slathered in SPF 45, drinking tropical, hi-octane concoctions served by thong-clad cabana boys.

Actually, the truth is she spends her time locked in the dark recesses of her office, writing gay erotic romance while chained to a temperamental laptop, drinking coffee, and dreaming about thong-clad cabana boys.

Sigh.

You can find links to the full body of Kiernan’s works in both print and ebook at her website,
www.KiernanKelly.com.

www.KiernanKelly.com
www.facebook.com/kiernankelly
http://kiernan-kelly.blogspot.com/
Twitter: @kiernankelly

Interview at Shannon Leigh's blog!

2012-01-19T11:42:00.001-05:00

http://authorshannonleigh.blogspot.com/2012/01/interview-with-dc-juris.html?zx=8948e4b541b5bb8f

Word Play

2012-01-19T08:00:00.002-05:00

Since I'm a writer, I understand the power of words when they're used to invoke an emotional response. As a survivor of an abusive childhood, I know all too well the power of words when they're used as a weapon.. But today, I want to talk about the power of words in a different way - when they're misunderstood.

We've all seen this cute little picture thing about how proper punctuation saving lives. But what happens when even grammar can't save you??

Case in point: Back in 2001, I took a flight down to Florida to see my best friend graduate from college. I couldn't afford a flight back home, so instead I took a Greyhound. Worst experience of my life. What was supposed to be a 20 or so hour trip turned into two days. Customer service was non-existent. We missed our connecting bus out of Washington DC, and we were told there was another one we could get in 3 hours. When I asked the woman what in the name of Heaven I was supposed to do in DC for 3 hours, she smirked and said, "Well, you could go see the White House." I was not impressed. But it didn't end there. We got our new connecting bus, and the driver took us down a turnpike...right into the middle of construction. We sat on the road for hours. Literally hours. In the end, my husband ended up driving three hours down to Harrisburg, PA in order to pick me up the same day. Otherwise, we'd have been into day three. On the bus.

When I got off at Harrisburg, I went around to the luggage storage area of the bus, and asked one of the terminal workers to hand me my suitcase. I knew it had been tagged for Elmira, so I didn't want it to go any further. He got huffy with me, acted like doing his job was an inconvenience. So I snarked at him, "You people have been pissing me off for two days!"

It never occurred to me that the man was African American, and would take "you people" to mean I was a racist. I meant you GREYHOUND people. I'm not a prejudice person - I barely even noticed his skin color. All I saw was that damned uniform.

Second case in point: When Hubby and I were newly married, we dealt a lot with his ex-wife. The woman (and I use that term loosely) was not the most pleasant of human beings, and everything turned into a fight with her, because she wanted to fight about everything. I was young and full of piss and vinegar, so I typically fought right back. One evening, Hubby and I were discussing our youngest. I had some concerns over his behavior, and I wanted him to address them with his ex. He maintained that his ex wouldn't do anything about it. I maintained that it didn't matter if she did or not, what mattered was that he tried. The conversation went on for several minutes, and got heated enough that our oldest, who was sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework, managed to somehow peel his attention away from English in order to keep track of the sparring match playing out in front of him.

And then it happened. Hubby's ex's name is Robin. Hubby looked up at me and said, "All right, Robin."

At least, that's what I heard, right before I told him to fuck off and locked myself in the bathroom. What he'd actually said, and failed to enunciate, was "I'll WRITE Robin."

As the icing on the cake, my mother-in-law showed up unexpectedly a few minutes later, and gave him The Look. You know, that, "what on Earth have you done??" look. In my defense, our oldest heard what I heard. Years later, he said all he was thinking was, "What the hell, dad?! This one's a keeper!!"

What about you? Has your loose tongue ever gotten you into unexpected trouble?

Awesome review of Betrayed

2012-01-16T15:02:00.002-05:00

I'm humbled, thrilled, and honored to share this review of Betrayed with you. http://www.queermagazineonline.com/component/content/article/223-book-reviews/book-reviews/42214-betrayed-by-dc-juris

New Release: "Betrayed"

2012-01-15T15:56:00.000-05:00

Hi folks! Over the next couple months, you'll see me at various blogs talking about my newest release, "Betrayed."

I love all my books and all my characters, but this one and these two hold a special place in my heart. "Betrayed" is a rewrite of the very first thing I ever wrote, and I'm so proud to be able to say it's a published work.

Here's the link to buy it at All Romance Ebooks:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-betrayed-669002-144.html

Check out my BDSM Book Reviews Guest Post

2012-01-14T08:00:00.000-05:00

Hey folks! Go check out my guest post at BDSM Book Reviews

http://www.bdsmbookreviews.com/2012/01/12/guest-blogging-balancing-who-i-am-with-who-i-need-to-be-by-dc-juris/

Friendly Friday - Featuring The Story Orgy!

2012-01-13T08:00:00.008-05:00

Picture this: A serene curvy road…beautiful trees lining it on both sides…nature at its best with the sun rising in the east telling everyone that the day is beginning and the wonders are about to pounce on you…the birds are chirping their greeting…all is ideal for a nice long (very very long) drive to go visit a good friend…and down the road comes a single SUV… blending in with the picturesque scene, the Story Orgy Rover makes its way to DC Juris's house…the Story Orgy are happily inside, Hank Edwards driving with JR Boyd sitting in the middle front and his beautiful muse Em Woods, the Goddess of the SO sitting to his right…and in the backseat the vivacious Jade Baiser is sitting behind Hank with her yang to her right, Havan Fellows and if you follow the handcuffs on Havan's right hand you will find the other half attached to her muse, Lee Brazil.

Ah yes…The Story Orgy (lovingly called the SO)…a group of people brought together as a family due to their love of men and prompts…serene and calm by nature…that is until someone hands out the coffee…

Havan) *bounces to and fro shoulder bumping Lee and then Jade singing/screaming* One hundred bottles of beer on the wall…one hundred bottles of beer…take one down pass it around…ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall … *giggles and takes a deep breath for next verse*…come on everyone sing!!!! Ninety-nine…

Lee) *eye roll- taps Hank on the shoulder* - Sirius fm radio? Please? Find us some good classic rock and roll?

Hank) Already on it. Ooo, a Corey Hart station. Sigh.

Em) Nintey-nine... *looks into back seat* oh! We're not singing anymore? Ah, well, probably better that way. *snuggles against my muse* Can we stop at Tim Horton's? I didn't fill up my travel mug before we left.

Jade) Oh yes please, I need my fill of hot chocolate!

Hank) ANOTHER stop? *eye roll* We'll never get to DC's at this rate. *widens eyes* Good Lord, I sounded just like my father.

JR) Just one more...I gotta pee.

Havan) Hey! I had my own version made up with bears and beds instead of beers and walls *waggles eyebrows*…um…but…yeah never mind…*blushes* I can't help it…I'm sooooooooooo excited to be going to DC's house…this is the first time I've been invited…I feel like I'm with the 'in' crowd now! *bounces in seat some more…bumps Lee* Oh sorry…*sips coffee to hide smile* Hey Em...mmmmm coffee *giggles some more*

Lee) *rubs head where it smacked into the window* Ouch? Havan...what kind of coffee did you get at that last stop? *Stretches feet out and glares at boots* Are you sitting on my Kindle?

Havan) *reaches hand under assets* um...don't think so...Oh boy oh boy oh boy...we are finally gonna share our big secret! Tell everyone how we have a brand spanking *giggles and nudges Jade* I said spanking…hehe

Lee) Mm...someone needs a spanking...

Jade) Hum? Oh yes, someone definitely needs a spanking. Stop bouncing Havan...

Havan) *kisses Jade on her cute nose* yes…and…no…*giggles* oooooh...um…*eyes glaze over*...yeah...a brand spanking *looks at Lee and tries not to giggle again* Story Orgy blog!!!!!! *bounces into Lee* No—I don't keep bouncing into you on purpose *blushes* Lee's prettied it up so nice making us all our very own author pages that we got to decorate and what about that freaking hawt assets banner that Em got for us!!!!

Lee) *blushes* It turned out very nicely, I think! And oh, yeah it was a stroke of genius on EM's part asking Dirk about that banner!

Em) *giggles and hands over Lee's Kindle* Sorry, Lee. I was just checking to see if I wanted to borrow anything from your library. And oh yeah, that Dirk Tyler is one very talented man. He whipped that header out in no time flat.

JR) *snickers* Where were you hiding that, my muse?

Em) I'm sure I don't know what you mean.*eyes wide...pokes JR in the belly* Didn't you say you had to pee?

Havan) Yeah Em…that wowza of a man Dirk is talented with his hands…hehe

Em) *eyes glaze over* yeah...

Havan) *starts playing with JR's hair…pulling hand back every time he reaches behind his head* Jade did it! *points to my left*

JR) *ducks head*

Jade) Havan! Nobody will believe you, you know! I'm supposed to be the calm one *grins* well, that's what they say anyway...

Em) *smacks Havan's hand* Quit that.

Lee) *Frowns at Havan* behave. Quit teasing JR.

Hank) And quit distracting the driver! If I have to turn this car around! *gasps, eyes wide* Oh my God.

JR) Yeah, still hot- all bossy and grouchy...

Havan) *rubs hand pouting at Em and Lee…suddenly starts giggling* soooooooo…got a riddle for you guys…what does Chicago, a bottle of wine and a sea mammal trainer all have in common? *grabs Jade's hand and kisses her palm* Anyone? Those three words and one brilliant JR is all you need to get the ball rolling on a freaking fantastic SO anniversary story!!!!

Hank) Those lucky sea mammals, they get all the hot trainers.

Lee) I think all five parts are great. I read everyone else's and really wasn't sure I could pull off a conclusion that would do the story justice!

Em) Following JR's kick-ass opening was hard, but it was fun to get to draw from something that I enjoyed so much.

Hank) I had a good time picking it up where Em left off. I gotta tell you, oil rigs and mosh pits can make for some hot stuff!

JR) *wiggles in seat, squeezes legs together* Starting it off was hard! But with everyone's encouragement, I think it turned out great. Can't we stop?

Havan) *tweaks Lee's cheek* It was fun setting it up for you to...um...finish it off Lee! hehe *reaches over Lee to play with the window*…it's hot in here…oh wait—that's just cuz I'm in the car with you guys…*giggles and rolls the window up and down and up and down*

Lee) Let's leave that down, shall we? The air might sober Havan up, and more importantly...No! Havan! *sighs* Not all the way down. It tangles my hair and it's a b***h to get combed.

Em) Hey Hank, you wanna put the window lock on? *smacks my muse's leg* Quit wiggling.

Hank) *singing* I wear my sunglasses at night... What? Oh, yeah. On it.

Havan) *runs fingers through Lee's hair and sighs* My muse is sooooooo feisty *bats eyelashes and takes sip of coffee* huh? *tries to get lid off of cup* why did I get the childproof lid? *finally gets it off and peers into empty cup…eyes Lee's cup* Hey handsome…

Lee) Oh, hell no. You aren't getting my coffee...for one thing, I think you may just have had enough, and for another- I need this to keep my stomach settled.

Em) Did someone say coffee? *wiggles own empty mug* JR, c'mon...can't you talk them into stopping for me?

JR) *rocking in seat* Either you pull over...or I'm not making promises - and you are sitting right here, Hank.

Jade) Hank, please listen to our Goddess and make that stop. I need my cocoa!

Havan) *taps Hank on the shoulder* Are we there yet? Do we have to abide by the buddy system again? Why can't I ever wander the store by myself? *pouts*

Hank) No we're not there yet, and, YES you have to have a buddy at all times. I'm not pitching in to pay for another three snow globes you just knew you could juggle.

Havan) *giggles* Who knew juggling would be so darn tricky? *leans over and tickles Em's ear with finger* Jade did it! *points to left*

Jade) *sighs* sorry Em, I think Havan is a little overexcited today.

Em) S'okay, but I'm pretty sure we should stop, 'cause I ain't holding a bottle for him.

Havan) *eyes my yin* um…today? I can't wait until we tell DC how we are all posting our 'chapters' on the SO blog in 3 hour increments…our fans will get a complete story in just one day!!!! *bounces into Lee again and giggles*

Lee) *lurches into the window again*

Havan) I'm bored…Hank wanna play I spy with me again?

Hank) Sure! I spy someone who's being too loud and distracting in the backseat of the car. *raises eyebrows and looks into rear view mirror*

Havan) Hey—Jade is being a perfect angel…*giggles* and it's not my fault! You guys wouldn't let me bring my road trip toys…*hears the giggling from the front seat*…Hey! Not those type of toys—Lee said I had to leave my bag back in the SO Room…btw—great job on detailing the SO Rover … you can't even see where I spilled my banana chocolate shake last time! *big grins*

Lee) I think, the bag is best at home. God knows what you and DC would get up to with a whole bag of toys at your disposal. Now...shhh...why don't you close your eyes, listen to Corey Hart with us, and try to sleep. We've got six hundred miles left to go on this trip.

Hank) Six hundred and twelve. *sighs*

Em) Yeah, that bag needed to stay...but I'm pretty sure I saw something in JR's bag when I snooped--I mean...erm...JR's always got something, I think. *ahem*

Havan) *shoulder nudges Lee* I'll sleep if you will cuddle with me...hehe *puts head on his shoulder and starts fake snoring...REAL loud*

Hank) *hands spray bottle to JR* It's your turn to spritz Havan.

Em) Oh hell.

JR) Sweet! That'll make an empty bottle. *unscrews top, turns and dumps bottle of water on Havan's head* Oops! Sorry, H! *big grin*

Havan) *sputters water...looks at my family...smiles big and shakes head really fast with long wet hair spraying everyone* We do excel with the whole wet theme... hehe *settles down between my yin and muse and sighs contently* Might as well use this time to go over the notes Lee made for me *kisses my muse's shoulder*…okay - the can's and can't's that I'm allowed to discuss *pulls out list that muse wrote for me*:

§ I can talk about the new SO blog...and how it is gonna go live on January 30^th

§ I can't talk about any of the practical jokes that JR and I have pulled...or Jade and I...or Hank and I...*hangs head* or Em and I have pulled...you know--I'm starting to think you guys are a bad influence on me! *holds Lee's hand* see how I protected you Lee and didn't mention ALL the ones that you and I have done? *big smile*

§ I can tell how we are doing a superdy duper special A-day story that each of us wrote a chapter for...based on prompts from our significant others...or from our teenage kiddo who thinks she's in charge *heads back of Em's seat*

§ I can't talk about what I found in Hank's desk drawer the other day when I was looking for a pen...*prayer hands and bows to Hank* btw - Hank...very impressive and I do love you *winks*

§ I can talk about how we are gonna have kick assets prizes for all who leave comments...and that they can enter five times if they leave a comment on each chapter of the story

§ I can't talk about my dreams of starting a strip bowling night on hump day...*swings head to look at Lee* Hey! That's a great idea though! I even said we could use those bumper thingies if you wanted! *pouts*

And there you have it, just a nice leisurely day with the SO family. The SO Rover taking those twists and turns on that country road in harmony with the nature around it. But before we leave this quaint little scene, let it be known that we appreciate and thank DC Juris for being brave enough to allow us into his home, because the coffee and cocoa won't stop...and neither will we.

Please come visit us collectively on our Facebook page (SO blog to be unveiled 1/30/12)

Or individually you can find us here:

Em Woods

JR Boyd

Jade Baiser

Hank Edwards

Lee Brazil

Havan Fellows

And thank you for buckling up and keeping your hands and feet and bottoms in the vehicle at all time! *waves and honks*

I'm guesting at Simply Sexy Stories

2012-01-11T22:56:00.002-05:00

Go check out my interview, and get a sneak peek at "Betrayed," which releases this Friday!

Check it out here

Friendly Friday - Featuring Sue Brown!

2012-01-06T08:00:00.002-05:00

::claps hands and does happy dance:: I'm so pleased to bring you the very first Friendly Friday post, featuring the lovely Sue Brown!

My New Year’s Resolution

Hey Danny, as you are kind enough to let me go on your blog the first week of the New Year, I decided to offload my New Year’s resolutions on you, and do a bit of back-patting at the same time – not easy when you’re built like me.

Six months ago, I set myself a goal. I had to finish my three novels, Final Admission, Stolen Dreams and Morning Report, plus my novella The Layered Mask and short story, Racing Raindrops, and – deep breath – my university essays.

If I finished those, I would give myself a present, an iPhone. Well I finished the last one on December 16^th and today I played with the iPhone. Do I need it? No. Did it make it worth working 24/7 for several months? Hell yes. Especially as I got an advance to cushion the blow.

So this year I am going to do the same thing. I have several books planned for the next year which I have blogged about here, because if I don’t make it public I’ll never get them done. What do I deserve for finishing these books? Well, in all honesty, I think I deserve a holiday – a working holiday at least. I’d like to visit my friend, Tom Webb of A Bear on Books’ fame . We’ve promised ourselves a trip to GayRomLit in October. I live in the UK, so it will take a bit of planning, but I’m going to be there. I’ve got friends to meet and I have been promised by Tom and my friend Sharon, that they will feed me.

Sue likes writing. Sue does not like cooking. Can I cook? If I have to, with much sighing and pouting.

I’m going to start work soon, very soon. I suppose it doesn’t help that I have a severe case of writer’s block at the moment. Trying to drag a sentence out is a long and painful task. I have to get a move on though as I have a story due in by the end of January, and another one by the end of February. I must get started, I really must. Maybe, soon, when I’ve stopped playing with my new phone.

Sue’s Bio: Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found at university listening to lecturers discuss long-dead theologians. In her head, however, she's plotting how to get her cowboys into bed together; she just hopes the lecturer doesn't ask her any questions.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she's made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

Coming Soon: Light of Day published by Dreamspinner Press due to be published 1^st February 2012

Light of Day is the sequel to The Night Porter, from Dreamspinner Press.

The first time Max laid eyes on Robert Armitage, he knew exactly what he wanted to happen. But Max was just a night porter and Robert a guest at the hotel before his wedding, and Max knew even as they slept together that in the morning he’d have to send the groom on his way. Max’s heart was broken when Robert left, and so he ran home to Texas. When Robert’s marriage failed, Max waited for Robert to come looking for him, and waited….

A year later, Max’s dreams come true and Robert finds him, but there’s a catch, and Max has to decide if he wants Robert enough to be satisfied with hiding their relationship.

Excerpt:

MAX was convinced his shift would never end. By the time he finally got out of The Crescent Hotel, the London evening weather matched his mood. It was raining hard again, water seeping down the back of his neck. As Max trudged home, his mind wasn’t on the weather but the sight of Robert’s large frame walking out of the hotel room toward his future. A future that didn’t include Max.

He stopped as he reached the top floor of his building. Robert was slumped on the floor, his back against the front door of the studio apartment. He was the last person Max expected to see, wet and shivering, on his doorstep. The man should be at his reception, celebrating his wedding to his beautiful bride, Evie. Robert’s eyes were closed and he didn’t seem to notice who was beside him until Max knelt down.

“Hey.” Max laid a hand on his arm, squeezing lightly.

Opening his eyes, Robert gave a wan smile when he saw Max kneeling beside him. “Hey.” He had aged five years since their confrontation that morning, his eyes bloodshot and swollen and his skin pale under his summer tan.

“Robert….” Max started to speak, wanting to know if Robert was here for him or here because he had nowhere else to go.

“Not now, Max, please? I’ve just dumped my fiancée at the altar with no real explanation. It’s been just about the shittiest day of my life. I need to sleep and I’d like to sleep with you, if you’ll let me?” He sounded so weary, his Texan accent deeper, and because Max was weak and stupid, he opened the door and let Robert back into his life.

They stripped off their clothes and climbed into the small bed, Max pulling Robert’s head down onto his chest, ignoring the fact that his long and straggly hair was still damp. Robert burrowed into him like he was trying to hide. Max stroked the long line of Robert’s back and kissed the top of his head.

Rain pattered down against the skylight, but Max felt warm and happy in his bed, even as quiet tears soaked into his skin. He tightened his hold on Robert and waited for the storm to pass.

Friday afternoon

“HEY, honey, do you want a soda?”

His mother’s musical voice penetrated his doze. Max dragged himself out of his stupor to answer, “No thanks, Mom,” and burrowed back down in the hammock, trying to recapture the dream again—the one where Robert had actually returned—instead of the reality.

Reality was that, a year later, Max was back home in Dallas. Max had watched Robert walk out the door and known it was the last time he’d be in the same room as the young actor. Robert was the last man to take Max’s body and, worse, his heart, stomping on it as he ran to his little bride. The bastard had even gone one step further. He’d kissed Max as he’d left, a slow and tender kiss that promised Westley his Buttercup would wait for him instead of running off to marry another prince. Max shook his head. It wasn’t fucking fair. There was no coming back from a marriage. In fact, Max preferred they didn’t look back. At least he had nothing to hang onto then, no images to trouble his dreams. Once his favorite movie, now he hated The Princess Bride for promising him a fairy tale that would never happen.

Reality was Max spending his Friday afternoon off in the hammock in his parents’ backyard. Max had been home just over a year and worked as a day manager at one of the anonymously boring, big-chain, midrange hotels in Dallas. Boring and generic the hotel might be, but Max actually liked his job. He’d been thinking of going back to study hotel management. The empathy that had proved his strength and downfall in London he channelled here into looking after the guests and staff, while keeping himself distant from the stream of good-looking men passing through his doors. He spent most of his time in his own apartment, but he couldn’t resist the occasional invitation from his mom to spend an afternoon snoozing in the backyard or the lure of a home-cooked dinner.

Max closed his eyes and tried to recapture the dream. Reality was fucking shit.

MAX saw Chris just before he left London. It took remarkably little time to hand in his notice and sublet his flat to one of the hotel staff. It was strictly against the terms of the lease, but Max’s landlord didn’t care as long as the rent was paid on time. He’d booked his flight to Dallas before he met Chris for coffee at their usual café.

Chris glanced up at him from reading the newspaper as he slid into the booth they called “theirs.” The cracked and dirty plastic upholstery with the yellow foam exposed seemed almost like home away from home now.

“Jesus, son, you look like shit.”

“Why, thanks, Chris. You’re so good for my ego.” Max slumped down on the seat, looking for the waitress to take his order.

“He did a real number on you, didn’t he?” Chris looked angry.

Max was touched by his concern. “It was my own fault…,” he began.

He jumped as Chris slammed his fist down on the Formica table.

“Too fucking right it is! Are you a total fucking moron? What did I tell you? What were my rules?”

“‘Don’t look, don’t touch, and definitely don’t fondle the merchandise,’” Max quoted obediently.

“They were rules two, three, and four. What was rule number one?”

Max pressed his lips together. He wasn’t a fucking child, and he didn’t need to be pulled over Chris’s knee in public for a spanking.

“The first rule, Max. After the last fucking time you got yourself into this state? What was the first rule?”

“If they’ve got a dick, don’t offer them a seat in the cubbyhole.”

Chris tapped the table with his fingernail. “And what did you do?”

“Invited him into the cubbyhole.”

“And what did he have?”

“A big, thick dick. It was just a shame he didn’t get the chance to shove it into my cubbyhole.” Max said crudely, but he was unable to prevent the flush at the memory of exactly where he had shoved it.

Rolling his eyes, Chris said, “And did you ask him before or after he checked in?”

Max glared at him. “It wasn’t like that. He asked for a drink.”

Chris sighed. “There’s a fucking bar, Max. Most people have a drink in the bar. You don’t have to fuck them all.”

“I didn’t, I don’t,” Max protested. But he had. He fucked Robert ’til the man was a boneless mess beneath him. He shivered.

“No?” Chris gave him the fish-eye. “Do you even bother to say hello? Or do you just go straight for the fucking?” His voice was rising and Max saw the couple in the next booth look over.

“You wanna say that slightly louder, Chris? I don’t think my mom heard you.”

“Sorry.” But Chris didn’t sound sorry. He sounded pissed.

“Look, I’m sorry, I know I’m stupid to keep doing the same thing.”

Max stopped when his plate of eggs and bacon was put in front of him. Rosie, the elderly waitress, was the same one who had served them since they discovered the café in the railway arches.

She looked at him critically. “You look like death, luv. Been burning the candle at both ends, have we?”

He gave her a wan smile. “Something like that.”

“You need to find a nice boy of your own to settle down with,” Rosie told him.

Choking on his first mouthful of eggs, Max reached for his glass of water. Through the tears streaming from his eyes, he saw Chris cracking up.

“He’s not so good at understanding the part about finding a man of his own… Ow! Fuc….” Swallowing the curse, Chris clutched his bruised shin, newly decorated by the toe of Max’s sneakers.

Rosie patted Max on the shoulder and left them alone.

Chris glared at Max. “That fucking hurt, dude.”

“Tough.” Max forked more eggs into his mouth. He swallowed and said, “I’m going back home.” When Chris didn’t say anything, Max looked up. “Say something.”

Shrugging, Chris pushed his empty plate away. “What is there to say? I think it’s a good thing.”

“You do?”

“Uh-huh. You’re fucking up here, son. Go home. Screw up over there. Your mom can look after you instead.”

“You’re all heart,” Max said drily.

Chris’s face softened. “Go home, Max. Let your momma look after you and get some perspective. You’re an intelligent guy stuck in a dead-end job. That’s why you keep doing these stupid things. Go back to school and get a real degree. Do something with your life.”

Max grinned at him. “I’m gonna miss you, y’know?”

“Gonna miss you too, fucker.” Chris sat back, letting out a satisfied belch. “I’ve been thinking of going home too. It’s time I went somewhere that can cook a steak without incinerating it.”

“Thought you hated the thought of going back to Hicksville?”

“Yeah, well, America’s a big country. One or two places are even civilized; somewhere there must be a place for me. And at least they understand what I’m saying. I get sick of having to repeat myself to these hoity-toity nonces.”

Laughing at Chris’s appalling upper-class English accent, Max picked up his empty coffee cup and waved it at Rosie. Today was a day for changes. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Finally!

2012-01-01T14:19:00.000-05:00

I have spent the past month working on promotions. I have banged out 31 blog posts, 1 free read, and I have guest spots scheduled (and posts turned in) through August.

And now I can finally get back to writing. In about 15 minutes I'll be picking a WIP and starting on it.

:-D

Announcing the birth of "Friendly Fridays"

2011-12-31T18:00:00.001-05:00

As of 1/1/12 I'm starting a new weekly feature on my blog - "Friendly Fridays."

This will be every Friday and it's a day for guest posts. You can do any type of post you like - straight up promo, something serious, something funny - anything, any topic. Nothing is taboo. Wanna bitch about religion or politics? Go for it. Wanna talk about your bellybutton lint? Have at it. Post pictures or not. Run a contest or not. It's all up to you. This does not just apply to published authors. All industry professionals (publishers, cover artists, editors, reviewers) or readers with something to say are welcome as well.

To book a date, e-mail me at dcjuris@stny.rr.com (dcjuris at stny dot rr dot com)

As of 12/31/11, I'm booking from April 2012 on. Jan/Feb are full. I have a couple spots left in March.

Post requirements:

any word count (no min/max)
.doc or .docx preferred (but I can work with .rtf if need be)
posts must be edited for typos
posts MUST be given to me at least 24 hours in advance (If you give them to me sooner, I'll love you long time. The sooner the longer. ::wink::) Seriously, though - I have a 60+ hour a week Evil Day Job as well as 24 WIPS. I simply cannot (and will not) sit up until 2 AM on a Thursday waiting for your procrastinating ass to get your shit together. ::sweet smile::

The Obligatory End of Year Post

2011-12-28T22:09:00.000-05:00

As 2011 comes to a close, I can't help but look back and think of how far I've come this year.

This year, I bought a house. I slashed my monthly housing costs in half, and am moving toward being out of debt by the end of 2012.

This year, I attended GayRomLit. This was my first writing retreat. My first trip to New Orleans. My first trip to a city where I knew no one. My first trip away from Hubby since we met. And only my second plane ride in my life. I hadn't flown since pre-911. Things are a little different now. You know they don't use paper tickets anymore? LOL

GayRomLit was a first for me in a lot of other ways. My first time going to public places alone. I went to the zoo, the insectarium, and the aquarium. It was also my first time on a riverboat. I did the riverboat cruise, even though I'm deathly horrified of boats and water. My first time roaming the streets of ANY town by myself and without a map. My first time getting lost on said streets...and my first time figuring out where I was. All. By. Myself.

On the writing front, I had 15 releases this year, including m/m, transgender, and heterosexual, which is pretty damned good, I think. I also achieved something I'd been working toward - I had the very first story I'd ever written accepted, and I can now say that nothing I've turned in for publication has been declined. Everything I've submitted with the intent of serious publication has been accepted and published. Not. Too. Shabby.

On the home front, Hubby has been cleared to come off antibiotics for the first time in three years. This is a pretty big milestone for him.

I had my first surgery this year - I had my wisdom teeth out in February. That went okay, so I followed it up with a breast reduction in August - the first thing I've seriously done to further my transgender situation.

I reconnected with a couple people online, got closer to a couple other people and discovered...I don't like one or two of them. Sometimes, distance works in your favor.

I learned the boundaries I need to put on my relationships with my family. My sister is great, but when she came for Thanksgiving and said, "You're (my legal name) to me, and you'll always be (my legal name) to me, no matter what you call yourself," that was a pretty eye opening experience. In listening closer to what she said during her visit, and how she said it, I've realized there needs to be an emotional boundary between us. I don't know if she'll ever fully accept who I am. All I know is that, right now, she doesn't.

So, looking back, 2011 wasn't too bad. I learned a lot about myself, my life, and the people in it. I made some new friends, and chose to not be so close to some friends I thought I had.

All in all - very good year!

Winners of my Mistletoe Madness Contest!!!!

2011-12-25T15:31:00.002-05:00

Well, all the names have been written down on tiny pieces of paper, folded 8 ways from Sunday and dumped into a hat (no, really, that's how we did it!). And the winners are....... Winner of a pdf copy of "Perfect Christmas" is Shadow_kohler and the winner of the cover art calendar is Emily Tardy!

I must apologize for not drawing the winners last night... I blame too much eggnog!!! Emily, if you'll send me your snail mail (US Mail) address to dcjuris@stny.rr.com (dcjuris at stny dot rr dot com) I'll get the calendar off to you ASAP!

Congratulations to you both and thanks to everyone for entering!!!!!!!!!!

Mistletoe Madness!!

2011-12-16T08:00:00.040-05:00

I'm participating in the Mistletoe Madness Blog Hop!

What does this mean for you? A chance at free books, and the grand prize of a free Nook!

Leave a comment below today (12/16) through 12/23 and you'll be entered to win a free pdf copy of my sexy little m/m/m romance, "Perfect Christmas!"

Here's the blurb:

Depressed and lonely, Evan has nothing to look forward to on Christmas but his TV dinner and store-bought cookies, while his lover, Drake, spends the holiday traveling for business. But a special delivery changes everything, and Evan finds himself in the middle of a perfect Christmas. Worn out from his stocking stuffer, Evan’s not sure how he’s going to handle his present, but when Drake reveals that Evan’s gift is a threesome with none other than their hunky friend Mike, Evan summons the energy!

CLICK HERE

to see the rest of the participating blogs &

to enter the grand prize contest!

GOOD LUCK!!

UPDATE!!!!!! AS OF 12/19, BECAUSE I'VE HAD SO MANY ENTRIES, I'M GOING TO SWEETEN THE POT! MY "GRAND PRIZE" WILL STILL BE THE BOOK, HOWEVER I'LL ALSO PICK A RUNNER UP FOR A DC JURIS 2012 CALENDAR CHOCK FULL OF MY BOOK COVERS AND THE MANLY MEN WHO GRACE THEM!!

Please Welcome Amber Kell!!!

2011-11-26T03:34:00.002-05:00

Please give a warm welcome to my first ever guest blogger, Amber Kell! Amber is here as part of her November Birthday Extravaganza, in which she's been hopping all over the place sharing bits and pieces of a free story! If you've missed any of the installments, you can find links to them all at her blog here

And now, on with the story!

Accidental Alpha #26

As it turned out the family dinner fell on the night before the

full moon.

“You’re father isn’t going to invite any unmentionables to dinner again, is he?” Fenris asked as he tossed aside the clothes Stanley had chosen and pulled a suit from a dry cleaning bag.

“If he did I wouldn’t be able to mention it,” Stanley teased. “And where did I get a suit? I’m pretty sure none of my other outfits were that nice.” Although he did wear a suit to his old job none of his previous suits looked like they featured in a menswear magazine.

“Consider it one of the perks of being the Alpha. You’re mate does your shopping.” Fenris gave a sniff. “From what I can see you need it.”

Stanley shrugged. “You didn’t dress up to visit with my parents.”

Fenris smiled. “I thought you’d tell me if they were formal. Besides I don’t like your father. I would’ve dressed up for your mother though. She’s my favorite new inlaw.”

Laughing, Stanley took of his sweater and jeans and dressed in the outfit Fenris brought. “Better?”

Fenris stared at him so long Stanley worried he’d done something wrong. “Huh, oh sorry I was just admiring the scenery.”

Shaking his head Stanley smiled at his mate. “If we’re going to get to this thing on time you need to get dressed too. Why did you decide to have the dinner at that new Italian place anyway? My mother would’ve loved to cook.”

“Because I know your father won’t start anything and my parents won’t argue if we’re out in public in front of the humans.”

“Why didn’t we just have dinner with your mother and then your father? Why everyone at once?” Stanley was missing something in this whole arrangement he just knew it. “You’re holding out on me about something.”

Fenris froze in the act of tying his tie. “I think holding out is a rather strong statement.”

“You’re handling me again aren’t you?” Stanley narrowed his eyes at his mate. Over the time they’d come to be mates, Stanley had noticed Fenris’ role was to keep the alpha happy. And if Fenris thought Stanley would be happier unaware, the other wolf kept things from him.

“Now love, it isn’t a matter of keeping things from you. Just I’ve always thought my parents should get back together but there’s only a limited number of reasons you can get them in the same room.”

“So you’re using our dinner to get your parents to sit down at the same table. What about your mother’s husband?”

Fenris shrugged. “I’m sure we can find him a new wife.”

A startled laugh burst out of Stanley. “What if he doesn’t want a new wife?”

“Then he’s out of luck. Mates shouldn’t separate.” Fenris said firmly. “I’ve known this all my life but they still stay apart. I can see my father still pines for her and my mother doesn’t look happy. Now that I know what it’s like to have a mate I’m even more determined that my parents get back together.”

Stanley sighed. Wrapping an arm around Fenris he pulled his mate close. “Babe, you can’t organize other people to do what you think they should. Your parents have to choose their own paths even if you think they’ve made the wrong choices. It’s their choices and they have to live with the mistakes they make.”

Fenris patted Stanley on the chest. “My parents deserve to be together.”

“I’m not going to change your mind am I?”

“Nope.” Fenris said.

“At least make sure everyone knows it isn’t my fault when this entire thing explodes in our face.”

“Of course dear.” Fenris dressed quickly and led the way out the bedroom. “It’s my job to make sure you always look good.”

Stanley looked down at his designer suit. “So far you’re doing well in the clothing let’s hope your people sense is as good.”

Fenris gave him a wolfish smile that did nothing to reassure Stanley. “My parents won’t even know what hit them.”

Despite his mate’s cheery outlook Stanley had a feeling there was no way this night would work out. “Maybe it’s not too late to be a missing person,” he mused on his way out the door.

Guest post at Fiction with Friction!

2011-11-17T12:52:00.001-05:00

ohhhh yay! I'm so excited about this!!

http://www.fictionwithfriction.com/2011/11/17/guest-blogger-dc-juris/

Hot Angels and Cool Demons Blog Tour Continues With...

2011-11-16T08:00:00.053-05:00

Me!

::waves:: Hi folks.

Hopefully there's some new people here, maybe ones who don't know me. For those who don't, I'm DC Juris, and I write gay, lesbian, transgender, bisexual, and heterosexual romance. ::coughs:: Okay, okay. I write smut. But it's romantic smut! erm...Mostly!!!

Anyhow, the lovely Jay Di Meo (http://jaydimeo.wordpress.com/) invited me to participate in the Hot Angels and Cool Demons Blog Tour, and since I can't say "no" to Jay (who can, really??) here's my contribution.

My very first stand alone (not anthology) publication was a book at Torquere Press called "On God's Honor."

Here's the blurb:

Ekenezer has no idea why Nathan Bradley is so important, or why God has sent him to guard a hapless klutz. But one look at Nathan and Ekenezer soon finds that he has more than protective feelings for his ward. What’s an angel to do, though, when having the one person he’s ever wanted means giving up his wings for eternity?

Although I was still new to the writing world and the book lacked a lot of the polish of my current releases, "On God's Honor" still garnered fairly good reviews, which was awesome for my first time out. No five star ratings, mostly three stars, though looking back, that's fair. The contract expired earlier this year, so the book is currently out of circulation.

At this point, I'm excited to start a rewrite on it--give it all the details and love it needs, and resubmit it to Breathless Press. I think my editor Mason and I could make it a really, really good piece!

After "On God's Honor" originally came out, I received a few e-mails asking me why I'd chosen an angel for a gay romance, and why in the name of Heaven had I made God a gay-sympathetic character??? (Yep, I wrote God into the book, too. Nothing is sacred with me!)

The short answer is that I find the idea of an angel in any sort of sexual relationship extremely erotic. Think about it: a messenger and representative of God, holy, incorruptible...until they meet a certain human. Suddenly they're tempted. Emotions and desires they'd buried, or even thought they'd never experience, come rushing to the forefront. Do they give up their wings for their lover? It's a dilemma they never even imagined. Think about the power there, of the average human being. Most of us can barely convince others to do what we want, we remain incapable of winning arguments against the most zealous of people, yet we tempt angels. And what greater show of devotion and love, but to cast yourself down for your soul mate?

Of course, in my book, that doesn't happen. In "On God's Honor," I portray God as a character sensitive to the needs--carnal and otherwise--of his angels. He admits that such things take place far more often than he'd like to admit, but the goal is to keep the humans safe, and he'll do whatever that takes. Even if it means turning a blind eye to certain activities.

But there's a larger reason for writing God in such a way--affirmation. You see, it's my belief that, if there is a God, he knew what he was doing when he made each and every one of us. To think otherwise is to give dominion to the other side, or, worse, to suggest the All Powerful makes mistakes. In essence, you can't have it both ways. If I'm a transgender bisexual, it's because I was meant to be. Else the Man Upstairs doesn't know what he's doing...in which case you throw the believers into chaos!

I'll admit I'm an Atheist. I've never been quiet or shy about that fact, so writing a book about an angel raised some eyebrows among people who knew me. Who was I to claim enough knowledge to speak about God and Heaven? Well, I didn't. I'm not a theological expert. I claim enough knowledge to speak about love, nothing more.

Some people suggested that, because I'm an Atheist, I wrote the book as a slap in the face to God and organized religion. To them, I've said that if love is a slap in the face to organized religion, then you're doing it wrong. O.o

I'm looking forward to diving back into this story, and seeing what can be added and tweaked. It sort of feels like visiting an old friend.

Why I Support Aj

2011-11-09T01:01:00.000-05:00

I'm one of the authors who stepped up and defended AJ in the whole "OMG AJ IS A WOMAN!!!!" debacle. I defended him in the only fashion I know - loudly.

I've gotten barraged with messages regarding my defense, all of which, I've ignored until this post. Here are my answers, if anyone cares. (And for the record, I don't care if you care or you don't.)

Q: Don't you feel like this is a slap in the face to the GLBTQ community??????

A: Let me understand the reasoning here. A transgender man feels he has to hide his status in order to gain acceptance. That's supposed to be a slap in the face? What it *is* is a sad commentary on our society, and the m/m writing community.

Q: People look to m/m romance for guidance and insight, especially questioning youth. The lies of "his" "gay" situation are monumentally destructive, don't you think?

A: First of all, if anyone is looking to m/m romance for guidance and insight, all they're going to learn is that anal sex can be done without lube, men frequently fall in love with other men on sight, and gay men are incapable of keeping their hands off each other in any situation. Seriously. That's the majority of the gay romance out there. It's FICTION. You wouldn't learn how to be a veterinarian by reading The Pokey Little Puppy, would you? If Aj were purporting to be a certified expert on something, then fine, yes, I'd agree with you. But Aj purports to be a writer of smut just like the rest of us. I certainly hope no one is looking to my books for guidance and insight. Christ, just do a google search - you'll get better information.

Q (or more of a ranting statement, actually - and I'm quoting this one directly) : "Listen, asshole, Llewellyn has on MORE THAN ONE OCCASION bemoaned and bitched about female authors like myself trying to cash in on the gay male experience by using gender neutral pen names and now you defend her??? That's bullshit!"

A: First of all, if Aj is transgender, which he claims to be - and we have no proof he's not - then he's a HE not a she. Second of all, if Aj is a transgender MALE who is sleeping with/fucking/in love with/having wet dreams about/masturbating to the idea/image/memory/dream/whatever of another MALE then he is indeed GAY, or at the very least, bi. Which would make his outrage reasonable, yes?? Or does one have to have a functioning, semen spitting penis in order to be "really" gay? If that's the case, I know a few infertile, erectile dysfunctional gay men who are about to rip off their pointy-toed pumps and stab your eyes out with them. :-) And by the way, that's MISTER Asshole to you, sweetie.

Q: Who is Ann Somerville, anyhow?

A: I haven't the foggiest. I've never heard of her until this whole thing happened. Although she's probably never heard of me, either.

Q: Aren't you worried that people will stop buying your books because you defended her?

A: AGAIN, he's a he until we have proof he's not transgender. No, I'm not worried. Frankly if people want to not buy my books because I've defended someone, that's fine with me. I would rather them hate me if they need to, than falsely kiss my ass.

Q: Doesn't it matter to you that he's not really a he?

A: Nope. The gender of an author makes no difference to me. Do you have any idea how many other authors are presenting as one thing but are really another? There are females pretending to be males, males pretending to be females, and transgender males pretending to be "natural" gender males.

I think people read my works based on my talent and characters, not what's between my legs. But for the record, if it matters to anyone, there's a vagina between my legs.

Q: Is he really Dj too????

A: How the hell would I know? Why don't you write their publishers and ask? Better yet, find someone who has their phone numbers (there has to be an author out there with them) and call them both at once. Can't really fake that, hmm?

Q: But what about all the lies she told in her blog about coming out and being bullied?? She's trivializing the gay experience.

A: (I'll let the she/he thing go...apparently it's beyond reasonable grasp....) I can't say as I recall reading any such posts (not saying they're not there, just I don't remember reading them) but how do you know they're not real?? DID he come out to someone as a gay male? HAD he been bullied? Transgender people deal with our share of bullying all the time. How do we know those posts aren't based on reality?

Q (or really another rant, quoted verbatim): "SHE LIED TO US! She deceived all her readers! We believed what she said and it was all lies!! We have a right to know the truth!!!!"

A: You have a right to know the truth?? Seriously?? Are you listening to yourself? You don't have a RIGHT to know anything. Not one single, solitary thing. You have the privilege of being let into someone's life, and you have the responsibility to be respectful of them. That's where it ends. You don't have a right to know anything about anyone, especially if they're not impacting your ability to function in your daily life. Some of these authors write the smut you enjoy at great personal risk. Some have lost their families over it. Some have even been forced to stop writing and go into hiding. HIDING. Over a book. How ridiculous is that? It's completely stupid that someone risks their life to bring you a feel good moment. You're welcome.

Q: Did you read Damon's post about this?? Don't you agree with him? He's right about so much!!! How can you not agree with him? I met him in New Orleans and I think he's awesome.

A: I did read the post. I agree with some points. As you can see from the above, I disagree with some points. I'm free to agree or disagree as I wish. I met him in New Orleans, too and I agree, he's pretty cool. Although I have no idea what that has to do with anything else.

Q: I heard some publishers make you take a male or gender neutral pen name. Is that true? Do you think that's dishonest?

A: Since I'm not published with every GLBTQ publisher out there, I can't speak for them all. I've had one publisher say I'd need a gender neutral pen name, yes. I already had one, based on being transgender, so I didn't have any issue with it. And it's no more dishonest than anything else going on in the m/m community at the moment.

Q: Do you know who started all this? Will you tell me?

A: I do. I won't.

That's it. That's all I have to say. Comment or not, agree or not. I don't really care. :-)

Please vote for Finding Sanctuary!

2011-11-04T11:29:00.002-04:00

Shameless vote whoring commencing in 3...2...1! I've had the luck of working with some very talented cover artists for my books, and one of them is up for an award! Please go vote for the "Finding Sanctuary" book cover! http://elisa-rolle.livejournal.com/1427480.html

What's My Favorite Birthday Present EVER?

2011-10-22T22:56:00.001-04:00

Find out!

http://www.kharismarhayne.com/2011/10/guest-blog-dc-juris.html

BDSM - What's in it For Me?

2011-10-21T14:18:00.001-04:00

Find out!

http://www.bdsmbookreviews.com/2011/10/21/guest-blogger-tie-me-whip-me-spank-me-but-why-by-dc-juris/

Want to read about my favorite things?

2011-10-05T02:56:00.001-04:00

Check out my guest post at Edward Kendrick's blog!

http://edwardkendrick.blogspot.com/2011/10/my-favorite-things-by-dc-juris.html?zx=1edafaf5bb9ba8e9

4 Kisses for Relearning the Ropes!

2011-09-30T11:12:00.001-04:00

http://top2bottomreviews.wordpress.com/2011/09/29/7779/

Guest post at Raine-Delight's blog today!

2011-09-30T11:11:00.002-04:00

http://authorrainedelight.wordpress.com/2011/09/30/welcome-dc-juris/

I've gone to the dogs!

2011-09-26T15:27:00.001-04:00

Check out my Whipped Cream guest post!

http://wcguest.blogspot.com/2011/09/guest-blog-dc-juris.html

New cover art!

2011-09-25T22:56:00.001-04:00

This is for "Heart of Stars" the free read available only to the attendees of GayRomLit in October!

Isn't it pretty???!!!

Check out my interview...

2011-09-25T10:43:00.001-04:00

at Elizabeth Morgan's blog!

http://xxxxmyworldxxxx.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-world-guest-interview-dc-juris.html

Wanna see mah undies?

2011-09-24T15:33:00.001-04:00

They're right here, on my guest post at Romance with SASS!

http://blog.romancewithsass.com/2011/09/24/fancy-panties-and-other-things-im-taking-back.aspx

It's Flashback Friday on the TQ Blog!

2011-09-23T15:48:00.001-04:00

http://glbtromance.blogspot.com/2011/09/flashback-friday-actions-speak-louder.html

4.5 Kisses for Buried Treasure!

2011-09-23T11:21:00.001-04:00

http://top2bottomreviews.wordpress.com/2011/09/23/buried-treasure-by-dc-juris/

Great review for Relearning the Ropes!

2011-09-22T21:50:00.001-04:00

http://www.queermagazineonline.com/component/content/article/223-book-reviews/book-reviews/34939-relearning-the-ropes-by-dc-juris

Guest post at Author Raine Delight's blog!

2011-09-20T11:16:00.001-04:00

http://authorrainedelight.wordpress.com/2011/09/18/welcome-d-c-juris-today/

Promo Spot at Sex Marks the G-Spot!

2011-09-20T11:11:00.001-04:00

http://www.sexmarksthegspot.com/2011/09/promos-for-books-by-author-dc-juris.html

What are my writing pet peeves?

2011-09-19T12:35:00.001-04:00

Find out! http://www.sexmarksthegspot.com/2011/09/guest-blog-by-author-dc-juris.html

Guest post at Romance Writers Behaving Badly

2011-09-18T12:19:00.001-04:00

http://romancewritersbehavingbadly.blogspot.com/2011/09/tasty-treat-by-dc-juris-hi-folks-dc.html

Are Readers Stupid? (CONTEST!!!)

2011-09-18T11:58:00.000-04:00

Now, before you grab the pitchforks and form a mob, let me just say, my answer is "NO!"

But I wonder if all industry professionals feel that way?

Case in point: I recently read a few short stories with the intent of doing reviews on them. None of them gained higher than a 3.5, in my opinion (and we all know reviews are simply that - opinion.) There were editing issues, including punctuation, grammar, and spelling. There were plot holes and dialog issues. There were continuity issues, and issues with fact-checking. Even some of the sex scenes had issues. My reviews pointed out all these, and I honestly tried to be fair.

I mentioned to another industry professional that perhaps I was too picky to be a reviewer. I expected them to say something like, "Poppycock! Readers deserve honest, hard-hitting reviews, and authors should take notice, old chap!" (because everyone's British in my head). What I got was an agreement with my assessment, and, I quote: "I'm not even sure if many people know what line editing is; they just want to be entertained."

O.o orly?

This reminded me of something I'd read another author say a couple years ago. I'm paraphrasing here, because I'd have to dig back through thousands of someone else's blog to even find the reference, and frankly I'm too lazy to do that, but the general idea was that it's okay to get a couple historical facts wrong in your work because most readers don't know shit about history, nor do they care.

O.o

WTF?

That was my reaction back then, and it still is. It's okay to give sub-par work because no one will notice??? Seriously?

If I'd purchased the books I read for review, I'd have e-mailed the publisher and demanded my money back. Some of them hadn't even been edited--or if they had, the editor needs to be fired. I've heard all along there's a feeling of ebooks not being quite as professional as print books, and gee...I wonder why that's the thought? Is it because we deliver crap?

Now, I know what you're thinking: some mistakes are honest. Take my works for example. I've found typos in the finished product a couple of times. I can tell you, with all honesty and integrity, that my books go through three edits before they're submitted, and another three to four with my editor, and then the proofreader gets them. Things still get through. The fact of the matter is the human brain sees what it wants. It forces things to make sense. Otherwise, this passage would be unreadable:

I cnduo't bvleiee taht I culod aulaclty uesdtannrd waht I was rdnaieg. Unisg the icndeblire pweor of the hmuan mnid, aocdcrnig to rseecrah at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mttaer in waht oderr the lterets in a wrod are, the olny irpoamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rhgit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whoutit a pboerlm. Tihs is bucseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey ltteer by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Aaznmig, huh? Yaeh and I awlyas tghhuot slelinpg was ipmorantt! See if yuor fdreins can raed tihs too.

And we all know there are two kinds of people in the world: the kind who noticed the car in the background during the theatre release of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kENzRvSoP-A) and those who were too caught up in the movie to see it. So...perhaps...just perhaps...there might be some small vein of reality in what my industry professional friend said about readers just wanting to be entertained. But...

But herein lies my question, and the entire reason for the post. Readers - what do you guys and gals think? Do you notice typos? Do you notice when a character uses a word that wasn't around when the book is set? (say he uses the phrase "ass munch" in a historical set in Victorian England or some similarly glaring WRONG) Do you notice when spellings of characters names change? Do you notice when sexual positions are just completely beyond the realm of possibility for the human body to conform to? Do you notice plot flaws, slow/unbelievable dialog, and the characters referring to each other by their names 8,000 times throughout the story?? (okay - to be fair, 8,000 is an exaggeration. I didn't count the times. But a lot. A. Lot.)

IF you notice them, do you chalk them up to things that just slipped through, or are you (as I was) insulted?

Well? To sweeten the deal, and so you'll have a reason to air your complaints, leave a comment below with your thoughts, and I'll pick a random winner to receive a free pdf copy of my newest release, "Relearning the Ropes." In which I hope to God we found all the typos. :-p

I'm guesting at Full Moon Dreaming...

2011-09-17T15:36:00.001-04:00

and I've answered the Infamous Rick Reed Questions! Go check it out!

http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/?zx=78f0710780d66d71

I'm guesting at Dawn's Reading Nook today!

2011-09-16T11:07:00.001-04:00

Go check it out!

http://lovesbooksandmore.blogspot.com/2011/09/welcome-author-d-c-jurisexcerpt.html

Omarati and No Place Like Home in PRINT!!!

2011-09-15T22:34:00.000-04:00

That's right! Omarati and No Place Like Home are both available in PRINT!

Omarati: https://www.createspace.com/3690616

No Place Like Home: https://www.createspace.com/3690623

I'm guesting over at Sue Brown's today!

2011-09-15T10:29:00.001-04:00

Go check it out and leave me some lurve!

http://suebrownsstories.blogspot.com/2011/09/welcome-to-dc-juris-things-im-glad-i.html?zx=b0c25eb916cbda9f

The Final Round of Voting is Here!

2011-09-14T02:22:00.000-04:00

It's the final round of voting in the First Annual BP Awards! Go vote for one (or both!) of my entries - "Sundae Surprise" and "Perfect Christmas". Thanks!!!!!!

http://voting.breathlesspress.org/forums/125865-nominations

Join me for Tell All Tuesday

2011-09-13T12:49:00.001-04:00

http://blog.rebeccaleighromance.com/2011/09/tell-all-tuesday-welcome-back-dc-juris.html

Wanna see my cock?

2011-09-10T16:11:00.001-04:00

Seriously! Check out my Back to Smut Week guest post!!

http://www.sizzlinghotbooks.net/2011/09/dc-juris-talks-cock.html

Christmas Card List

2011-09-08T15:33:00.000-04:00

I'm officially starting my Christmas Card List for this year. I know it's September, but I like to do things early! If you were on the list last year, you're still on it. If you weren't but want to be, drop me an email at dcjuris@stny.rr.com with the subject Christmas Card List, and your SNAIL MAIL address. These are not electronic cards, but real, actual hold-them-in-your-hot-little-hand paper cards. And they'll be racy - definitely NOT PG-13. You've been warned! :-P

Grade A for Buried Treasure

2011-09-05T18:46:00.001-04:00

http://www.bookingit.net/?p=2722

Shiny New Cover Art

2011-09-04T22:59:00.001-04:00

courtesy of the ever-wonderful Victoria Miller, for my upcoming m/m vampire release, "Orion's Way."

You like??

Friday Flash Fiction with Lisa Worrall

2011-09-02T11:24:00.000-04:00

Check this out! http://lworrall.blogspot.com/2011/09/friday-flash-fiction-4.html?zx=8b3f5dc692d415e5

4 Cherries for What the Lady Wants!

2011-09-02T11:22:00.001-04:00

http://whippedcream2.blogspot.com/2011/09/what-lady-wants-by-dc-juris.html?zx=bdc72649ab6f3dc8

New Release!

2011-09-02T11:21:00.001-04:00

http://www.breathlesspress.org/Book/359

I'm up for an award!!

2011-09-02T00:41:00.001-04:00

Go vote for me!!! Pretty please!!! http://www.theromancestudio.com/5heart_form.php

Celebrate Torquere Press's 8th Anniversary!

2011-09-01T23:19:00.001-04:00

The Eight Ball will help celebrate our eighth anniversary here at Torquere Press! Join us for the celebration!

We're having a reader scavenger hunt with weekly gift basket prizes and a grand prize (this year, a brand-new 3G Kindle along with a CD of stories from each participating author), plus daily prizes of gift certificates to show our appreciation to you -- our readers! Check our blog, http://glbtromance.blogspot.com/ where we'll have a number of our authors visiting the whole month. We'll post excerpts, hang out to chat, and talk about our stories.

In addition to the grand prize of the Kindle, we're giving away gift baskets every week! Some are silly, some are smutty, and all are fun. The themed ones are: m/m, ménage, BDSM, and lesbian plus our authors have chipped in with extra goodies.

Here's how to play. Visit our contest page, http://www.torquerebooks.com/contest/contactmain.html and start scavenging for the Eight Ball answers. Visit the author pages and find the graphic somewhere on their site. An online form is set up, and we'll randomly choose a winner for the Kindle from all of the correct entries. Plus, every day, readers will have the chance to win a Torquere gift certificate and a gift basket.

Help us celebrate our eighth anniversary and ask the Eight Ball your question… Like, will I win a prize from Torquere Press?

Thanks, and have fun playing.

Am I sentimental?

2011-08-25T14:29:00.001-04:00

Find out here: http://yougottareadguest.blogspot.com/2011/08/welcome-authors-of-breathless-press-dc.html

Quick Six Pro Part 2

2011-08-23T11:07:00.001-04:00

What do I look for in a publisher? What makes a great editor? Find out at Donuts and Desires, with Part 2 of my Quick Six Pro guest spot! http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com/2011/08/quick-six-pro-with-dc-juris-part-two.html?zx=eec2c61de313dca6

3 Cups for What the Lady Wants

2011-08-23T10:58:00.001-04:00

http://coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/whattheladywantsbydcjuris.html

Real Life in Writing

2011-08-14T18:28:00.001-04:00

See what parts of my real life played a part in my most recent BP release at my Books-n-Kisses guest post!

http://www.books-n-kisses.com/2011/08/guest-blog-with-dc-juris.html

Magical Moments

2011-08-14T18:27:00.001-04:00

Read my guest post at Becks Book Picks and find out what my magical moments were!

http://becksbookpicks.blogspot.com/2011/08/dc-juris-guest-post-magical-moments.html

4 Kisses for Finding Sanctuary

2011-08-06T17:32:00.001-04:00

http://top2bottomreviews.wordpress.com/2011/08/06/finding-sanctuary-by-dc-juris/

4 Stars for Who Better Than Canyon

2011-08-06T14:02:00.001-04:00

http://glbt.theromancereviews.com/viewbooksreview.php?bookid=3017

Gluten Free - Days 5, 6, & &

2011-08-06T02:49:00.000-04:00

The past three days have been hellabusy!

So it's been a week on the gluten free diet. Not only am I not getting sick anymore but...brace yourself... I don't have any muscle pain, either. The chronic, excruciating pain I've been in for the past 32 years is gone.

I don't even know what to think of that, at this point. It's hard to process. It's like living life in black and white, and suddenly everything's in color. Technicolor, even. It's odd. I'm still dealing with the fatigue, a bit, but not as bad as it was, and I'm sleeping a little better.

On to new products! Gluten Free stuff we tried this week:

1. Enjoy Life Cinnamon Crunch Granola - Did I tell you about this one already? I'm not sure. It's tasty! It has raisins in it.

2. Hot Kid Cheese Rice Crisps - YUCK! With a capital Y U C K. These have the texture and taste of cardboard dusted with cheese doodle leavings. Blech!

3. Ancient Harvest Quinoa Pasta Rotelle - WOW! I honestly can't taste a difference between this and regular pasta. The only difference I saw was that the water turns a lovely yellow color because of the corn content. I topped it with Prego Spaghetti Sauce (labeled GF) and some cheese.

For dinner tonight, I had steak and Ore-Ida Potatoes O'Brien with Onions and Peppers (labeled GF) and Birds Eye Steamfresh Mini Corn on the Cob (which isn't labeled GF, but the only ingredient is corn). For dessert I had Kozy Shack Original Rice Pudding (labeled GF).

It occurred to me that I normally stop eating half way through my meal because I'm in pain. Not because I'm fully - I typically leave the meal still hungry. But for the last few days, that hasn't been happening. I'm able to actually eat and not get sick, so I don't walk away hungry. As a result, I don't snack in between meals - I don't even want to.

Get down and dirty with Mark and Gabe from "Buried Treasure"

2011-08-06T01:48:00.001-04:00

http://www.sexmarksthegspot.com/2011/08/character-interview-with-mark-and-gabe.html

Defining Moments

2011-08-05T10:26:00.000-04:00

Read about mine at Lisa Worrall's Blog.

http://lworrall.blogspot.com/2011/08/friday-friends-daniel-christian-juris.html?zx=ca9786a3e7804b9b

New Release!

2011-08-05T10:25:00.001-04:00

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-buriedtreasure-583719-145.html

New interview up!

2011-08-04T16:20:00.001-04:00

At Sex Marks the G-Spot! http://www.sexmarksthegspot.com/2011/08/author-interview-with-dc-juris.html?zx=6b527a908d2c62e7

5 Divas for "On Solid Ground"

2011-08-03T19:42:00.001-04:00

http://www.blackravensreviews.com/?cat=2041

Gluten Free - Day 4

2011-08-03T01:37:00.000-04:00

Today was Day 4. Had my cereal lunch and chips snack at work again today. Didn't get sick!

Tonight for dinner I had Minute Ready to Serve Natural Whole Grain Brown Rice (which is gluten free) with Hormel canned chicken (also gluten free) seasoned with ginger (fresh ground and powdered b/c I get lazy with the grinder) and pan "fried" in I Can't Believe it's Not Butter (gluten free). I topped it with Ocean Spray Jellied Cranberry sauce (which doesn't say it's gluten free on it, but according to Ocean Spray, it is). YUM! I like to cook the chicken until it's crispy and brown, and sort of caramelizes the ginger. Didn't get sick.

As a side note, for those who grew up not liking Minute Rice, I have to say the flavor and texture of what's available now is a LOT different and much better.

For snack tonight, we made another attempt at gluten free pizza. We used Schar Pizza Crust, topped it with Prego spaghetti sauce, the local grocery store brand pizza cheese mix, and pepperoni slices. I've done the spaghetti sauce before on what Hubby and I call "Poor Man's Pizzas" (english muffins with sauce and some pepperoni) and it wasn't bad. In a larger quantity like this though, I think I want to try to find an actual pizza sauce for next time. It just tastes different to me. As far as the pizza crust - not bad. Not the best crust - reminded me of like Tonys frozen pizzas - but definitely better than last night's pizza. I had to cook it about 10 minutes longer than the box instructions, but that could just be my oven - it's a tiny little thing and takes longer on everything.

None if it made me sick, which makes me question if I actually *am* lactose intolerant, because I dumped an ass load of cheese on the pizza, and it didn't bother me. Maybe the issue was the gluten all along.

Another product I wanted to mention is:

Lundberg Rice Chips - Sesame and Seaweed. These are tasty! They have a subtle flavor, but it's a hearty one. Very nice!

Also, have figured out, by looking up ingredients and trial and error - I can have Almond Joy Pieces and Payday candy bars, which is awesome, as I love both!

Another product I tried (and I can't remember if I mentioned this one, but I don't think I did) is:

Pamela's Products Ginger with Sliced Almond cookies. These are very good! They're soft, so you don't get that CRUNCH that you like with Ginger Snaps, but the ginger flavor is there, and the almond gives a next texture change.

Gluten Free - Day 3

2011-08-01T22:13:00.000-04:00

Day three.

Had lunch - Cinnamon Chex cereal, and that didn't make me sick.

After work, Hubby and I went to Wegman's to see what they had. Thankfully, a lot of the gluten free products are all in one spot. However, the Wegmans brand stuff is throughout the store. Will have to go back when it's not so crazy/busy.

We bought a few things, a couple of which we tried tonight.

1. Schar Rolls, Classic White - Um...nope. The taste was okay, but the texture of these was too squishy for me, and they were very dry. Pan fried in butter they might be nice, or tossed on the grill. Rather pricey - paid $5.99 for 4 rolls.

2. Foods by George Gluten Free Pizza - Yeah, another no. It wasn't *bad*, but if you're craving pizza, this won't curb your desire. The crust was okay - I liked the crispier parts better, but the blend of cheese was meh. I put pepperoni on mine, which helped a little, but not much. Maybe it's just my oven, but the crust didn't bake evenly either. The outside was crispy, the inner part mushy. If I'd left it in any longer, though, the outer part would've burned. Quite pricey, considering it's the size of a Pizza Hut Personal Pizza and costs $6.29

3. Crunchmaster Multi-Seed Crackers - YUM! I love these! Crunchy and nutty. It's like whole wheat bread in a cracker, but gluten free. Paid $2.69 for a 4.5 oz bag.

4. Glutino Gluten Free Pretzel Twists - I couldn't try these because they have sea salt (I'm allergic to it), but Hubby got them for himself, and said they're not bad, although they tasted like they'd been soaked in sea salt. Not a great pretzel, but a decent pretzel. "Would definitely fix a case of the munchies!"

None of which made me sick! :-D

I'm on Kindlegraph!

2011-08-01T20:42:00.001-04:00

Head over and request an autograph!

http://kindlegraph.com/authors/DCJuris

Get Your Freak On!

2011-08-01T20:23:00.000-04:00

1st Annual Beepie Awards

2011-08-01T13:54:00.001-04:00

Voting is open, folks!! Go vote for me! I never win anything - so help me win this!! I've got entries under Adonis and Holiday.

http://voting.breathlesspress.org/forums/125865-nominations

Gluten free is the way to be!

2011-07-31T22:52:00.000-04:00

At least, that's the latest theory behind why I have all the issues I have. And I have to say...I'm starting to think there might just be some credibility to this theory.

I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say I get extremely sick whenever I eat. We've done all kinds of elimination diets - dairy, artificial sweeteners, soda - you name it, I've stopped eating it at one point in time. We've had no luck, so a several years ago, I just gave up, and accepted this as just the way life is. Then I was diagnosed with Lyme Disease. That seemed to answer some of the questions, but not all. More tests, more food trials. No more answers.

Color me surprised when my doctor suggested this past week that I might have a gluten allergy. Apparently he was discussing my case with another doctor, who asked if he'd cleared me for gluten. In my doctor's own words: "I felt like a complete moron when I said no."

I printed off massive amounts of information from the internet, and then yesterday - Saturday 7/30, Hubby and I carefully went through the cupboard and took stock. We read every label in there - and over half of it went into the get rid of pile. Then we trudged off to the grocery store to replace everything with gluten free alternatives. We were able to find a surprising amount of things - spaghetti sauce, alfredo sauce, mashed potatoes - all kinds of things. A lot of them were "mainstream" like Prego spaghetti sauce is already gluten free - at least the little jar I picked up was. Nothing "special" - just the way it's made. But we also found rice chips, gluten free pancake mix (Bisquick), and Betty Crocker gluten free cake mix.

Lunch yesterday was my first gluten free day. Now, I'd been told that it could take anywhere from 2 weeks to over a year for me to see any difference. It took 45 minutes. Seriously. That's the time frame in which I'd normally be physically ill after eating.

I had my lunch of gluten free tortilla with steak, green peppers, tomatoes, and scallions, with a side of Lundberg Fiesta Lime Rice Chips (which are *awesome*). And then I waited. I waited for the cramps. The bloating. The feeling like my stomach had shifted up into my chest and was pressing on my lungs. The 2.5 second warning sprint to the bathroom.

Nothing happened. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

I just knew it was a fluke. So at dinner, I had Hubby's fabulous sloppy joe mix over roasted potatoes. Again I didn't get sick.

At that point, I'm still convinced - yeah right. Thirty-two years of misery isn't over with ONE change. Bullshit, right?

Today I had a bowl of gluten free Cinnamon Chex. Still not sick. Then tonight, Hubby and I went to Target and bought a waffle maker, and he made gluten free waffles. I followed that up with gluten free cupcakes.

And I'm... Still. Not. Sick. As a side note, the waffles contained dairy - whole milk, which is something we'd previously thought I couldn't have. But now that I think of it, I've only ever had it *in* stuff, like cakes and whatnot. I've never really drank it straight because I'm not terribly fond of it.

Aside from that, I do have a tiny bit more energy, and I slept better last night than I have in a long time. My doctor says it's not entirely unheard of for someone to see a benefit in this short of time, especially with how sick food was making me. I'll try to keep my blog updated when I try gluten free products.

So far, I've tried

1. Cinnamon Chex cereal, which was very tasty - on level with Cinnamon Toast Crunch - and didn't make me ill.
2. Bisquick Gluten Free Pancake Mix - made waffles out of it. Very good - couldn't even tell it was gluten free.
3. Betty Crocker Gluten Free Devils Food Cake Mix - YUM. Seriously - you wouldn't have a *clue* this was gluten free. Rich in flavor, and the cupcakes were moist and had a wonderful texture.
4. Lundberg Gluten Free Fiesta Lime Rice Chips - Wow. These are really good. Very tasty - tangy and salty. The texture is different than a regular chip - more like a Dorito but even a little thicker. Very crunchy. And reasonably priced - I think I paid around $3 for the bag, which is on par with most potato chips.

Hubby plans to try his hand at some gluten free French bread - will definitely let you know how that turns out!

Check out my Ebook Addicts Guest Post!

2011-07-25T14:03:00.001-04:00

http://www.ebookaddictreviews.com/2011/07/25/lessons-in-love-and-other-things-with-dc-juris/

The best advice I ever received...

2011-07-25T10:26:00.001-04:00

can be found here:

http://imnoangelauthorsblog.wordpress.com/

10 Things You Wish You Knew About DC Juris

2011-07-22T13:31:00.001-04:00

http://seriouslyreviewedarchive.blogspot.com/2011/07/10-things-you-wish-you-knew-about-dc.html

"Omarati" is up for an award...

2011-07-22T11:12:00.001-04:00

...in the Rainbow Awards Book Cover Contest!

http://elisa-rolle.livejournal.com/1334444.html

GO VOTE!!! Vote now! Vote later! Vote often! (No, just vote once, but seriously GO VOTE!)

Guest blog and chance to win "Simply Smut"

2011-07-22T11:00:00.001-04:00

Hey!

Head over to BlackRaven's Erotic Cafe, read my dog's first blog post ever, and enter for a chance to win "Simply Smut!"

http://theblackraveneroticcafe.com/?p=10021

On Being Transgender

2011-07-20T16:43:00.000-04:00

According to Wikipedia, "Transgender (pronounced /trænzˈdʒɛndər/) is a general term applied to a variety of individuals, behaviors, and groups involving tendencies to vary from culturally conventional gender roles. Transgender is the state of one's "gender identity" (self-identification as woman, man, neither or both) not matching one's "assigned sex" (identification by others as male, female or intersex based on physical/genetic sex).[1] "Transgender" does not imply any specific form of sexual orientation; transgender people may identify as heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, polysexual, or asexual; some may consider conventional sexual orientation labels inadequate or inapplicable to them. The precise definition for transgender remains in flux, but includes: "Of, relating to, or designating a person whose identity does not conform unambiguously to conventional notions of male or female gender roles, but combines or moves between these."[2] "People who were assigned a sex, usually at birth and based on their genitals, but who feel that this is a false or incomplete description of themselves."[3] "Non-identification with, or non-presentation as, the sex (and assumed gender) one was assigned at birth."[4]"

Got all that? Great! But...what does it all actually mean? What is life like if you're transgender? Well, I'll tell you what it's like, from my point of view, based on what I've been through and what I go through on a daily basis. My opinions are my own, and probably don't reflect the majority of other transgender folks out there. Your mileage may vary.

For me, being transgender means:

*Growing up confused, shunned, and disappointing my parents. Although I'm sure there's nothing I could've done to impress them, my parents were certainly not happy with their queer little kid, even when I didn't know I was queer. Mom would let me wear jeans and t-shirts and boy clothes at home, but when it came time for other people to see me, it was dresses, tights, and cramming my feet into tiny little girly shoes. I learned very quickly that who I was and how I acted was shameful and embarrassing. I overcame that in time, of course, but fuck it all - I shouldn't have had been made to feel that way in the first place.

*Looking in the mirror and never seeing who I really am. My outsides don't match my insides. The reflection I see might as well be my sister, cousin, or a friend who happens to look a little bit like me. But that's where the similarity ends. I don't know that person.

*Constantly explaining my life. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mind setting people straight about misconceptions, or answering well-meaning questions. It's the day-to-day hassle of reminding people to address me as he, not she. I'm Daniel/Danny/Dan/DC/hey-you-asshole/studly-man-muffin - nothing else. My legal name has very little meaning to me anymore - it's just a reminder of the hell I went through as a child and in my early adult years. It's a reminder that I'm not who I want to be. Who I SHOULD be. Who I'm SUPPOSED to be. And really, you have enough names to pick from in that list. You don't need one more.

*Being something my family has to explain. Hubby and I can't go very many places without being gawked at or asked questions. Because. Of. Me. Because people can't just live and let others live. I'm not a science experiment. I'm not a side show attraction. I'm a human being. And the thought that I'm any sort of a hassle or an impediment to my family is heartbreaking. My happiness is a hardship. Do you have *any* idea whatsoever what that feels like??

*Everything is a hassle. Shopping for clothing - hassle. I don't want to wear pink fu-fu fluffy crap. I want to wear man clothes. The only problem is, I don't FIT in most man clothes. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a nice button up shirt in the women's department that doesn't look like Lady Gaga fashioned it for Barbie, or Betsy Ross stitched it for my grandmother??? And WTF is up with the low cut neck lines?? I can't believe ALL women like to dress that way. And WHY THE HELL is there a stupid pink flamingo on half the tank tops in stores right now? Perfectly good gender-neutral tank top, and they stitch a stupid pink flamingo to it. REALLY???? Shopping for jewelry - also a hassle. Try to find a masculine watch that fits my tiny wrists. Go on, try. It took me 45 minutes to find a pair of hoop earrings that didn't have either flowers or some other girly thing hanging off them. When I asked the store clerk if they had anything "with a little less fu-fu fluff on them," she looked at me like I'd handed her a knife and asked her to give me her kidney. Going to the bathroom is a hassle. I don't belong in the women's room. Men use the men's room. Not me, though. I still have tits, therefore I MUST be a woman, right?

*Ignorance is not my friend, but I've gotten used to him. How many times in a day do you automatically address people by a gender-specific pronoun? How often do you say "thank you, ma'am?" How often to you say "that woman/man over there?" How often do you think you might be wrong? Just because the person in front of you has a chest, that doesn't make them female. There really is no reason to address people by gender-specific pronouns. A waitress who says "How are you ladies doing today?" could easily just say "How are you both doing today?" Same greeting, but slightly more aware and compassionate. Instead of "Can I help you, ma'am?" how about just "Can I help you?"

*No matter what I do, some people will never ever treat me with respect. I have co-workers who just flap their hands at me and say "oh, come on. you're a woman!" My mother still thinks me being bisexual is a "phase" at the age of 32. She won't even discuss the transgender aspect.

*To society, I'm always going to be a label, no matter what. Even if I had the surgeries and hormone therapy, I'll always be TRANSGENDER. I'll never just be a man. A guy. A dude. There will always be "well, he's transgender." Or "my transgender friend Daniel." I'll never just be Daniel.

*Living up to a label is HARD. There's a weight on my shoulders - on the shoulders of every transperson out there - to be an example. To live up to some shiny, really high expectation. I'm supposed to be more open minded because of what I am. I'm supposed to be kinder, gentler, nicer. Never mean. Never angry. Always appreciative, always supportive, always helpful. I'm supposed to like every other gay/bi/trans person on the PLANET because we're in the same club and we even have the decoder rings. NOT. I'm just like everyone else - sometimes I'm a flaming fucking asshole you want to punch in the face. Sometimes, I want to curl into a ball on your lap and sob my eyes out. Sometimes, I want to scream until my voice is hoarse. And I don't want to put on an outlandish outfit and go flap my arms around at a pride parade like a queer emu. I'll sponsor your endeavor - I may even get a table and pimp my writing and a few others'. But I'm going to do it in a civilized, quiet fashion, thank you very much.

*I'll always have to think about where I'm going - who will be there, what I should wear, is it safe to take my partner, is it safe to flirt with other men, is it safe to have a couple drinks, can I walk there safely or should I drive, should I carry pepper spray or not, who will have my back if there's an issue, how will I deal with the homophobic police force if there's an issue...etc.

*I will never, ever fit in. Even among the GLBTQ community, there is animosity and hatred toward transgender people in some circles. I will always be a target, and my family will always be in danger in some way, shape, or form.

So. All that said - most of it really, really not pretty - what's the point? The point is, being transgender also means:

*Respecting myself
*Accepting myself
*Celebrating myself
*Taking no prisoners in life - meeting everything head on and climbing every mountain that's put in front of me.
*Understanding that I deserve this - I deserve to be happy, no matter who spits on me.
*Being me

And those six little things are worth all the rest, ten times over.