Yarontanji by Mara Ismine

Yarotanji: A Dark Masters Story by Mara Ismine
Publisher: Torquere Press
Genre: Erotic, GLBT Sci-Fi
Length: 82 pages


Yarotanji enjoys being an elite agent with the Peace Keeper Task Force and spending his time moving from planet to planet investigating various potentially dangerous situations. He spends a lot of his time lusting after Asrayan, his partner for most assignments, on and off the job. Yarotanji likes his job and his partner, people trying to damage his person and unrequited lust aside.

But he has a very bad feeling about the new assignment he and Asrayan have been given. It should be a walk in the park compared to their normal assignments. And it is -- until things get complicated and those difficulties threaten his hard won friendship with Asrayan.

Yarotanji and Asrayan first appeared as secondary characters in the novel Smoke.

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Funny how two people can work together a long time and still not know each other nearly as well as they think. Peace Keepers Yarotanji and Asrayan manage to surprise each other more than a little in Mara Ismine's Yarotanji.


The main characters played secondary roles in another novel, Smoke. More spies than warriors, Ji and Rayan, as they are mostly called, specialize in nipping problems in the bud. We get to go along on two missions, which are exquisitely tense in themselves and do not dump an entire Federation's worth of politics on us. The immediate problems are absorbing and well written, and do not rely on hand-wavy technology to solve. Keeping the missions on a local scale rather than threatening to entire planets is a good move from the author – the issues are within the scope of a two-person team but could grow if not caught early.

Ji has been interested in getting closer to Rayan, but Rayan's always insisted on maintaining a professional footing. Not knowing why, Ji torments himself with possible reasons, up to and including his mixed-species heritage. When Rayan does come across, it's not for the reasons Ji could wish for, and the greatly increased tension between them may send them to opposite ends of the galaxy.

The element of "not-human" exists subtly for Rayan – his emotions flicker across his skin, but not in any pattern Ji can read. Normally predictable, Rayan succeeds in stunning Ji both physically and emotionally. The interplay between the two is 'old-married couple' in one way and 'unresolved sexual tension' in another, leaving them whipsawed and out of sorts until Rayan does finally make up his mind.

The structure threw me a little; a creation tale in the beginning didn't feel connected with the events within the story, and seemed more to establish "not-human' characters and a relationship with the other novel than anything else. The end is told from someone else's POV, a main character from the other novel, and while it ties everything together, it creates distance from Ji and Rayan. With a little trimming, this would have been a completely stand alone story instead of an offshoot from another work, even with cameos from the other characters.

Still, the main story is a nice tight read, with well-told adventure and very engaging main characters, and I will be happy to read more from this author. 3.5 Marbles

Catching Mr. Right by Amber Kell

Catching Mr Right by Amber Kell
Publisher: Total-E-Bound
Genre: M/M Contemporary
Length: 61 pages


Book one in the Dangerous Lovers Series
Sometimes the perfect man is the one determined to give you away.

Tucker Right has loved Norman Wells since the first day they met, but the mercenary believes the beautiful scientist needs a gentler soul to care for him.

Determined to find his friend the perfect man, Tucker is astonished to learn Norm has no intention of being set up.

When the mob targets Norm for his scientific breakthroughs Tucker has to step up and claim the man who had every intention of Catching Mr Right.

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Five years of keeping their real desires hidden turns out to be all Norman and Tucker can stand. Best friends and close companions, they know each other like an old married couple but it's always been hands off. Tucker thinks he isn't worthy of the genius who fixes his breakfast, and Norman doesn't understand why Tucker's never touched him. Amber Kell sorts this muddle out in Catching Mr. Right.


Big, ex-mercenary Tucker calls Norman "sweetheart" frequently, and mother-hens him about finding a nice guy to keep, someone who doesn't have blood on his hands. One of the blind dates is a pretty perceptive fellow, cluing Norman in to the real state of affairs and letting him turn the tables on the guy who's directing his life but standing apart from it. This was pretty funny to watch – everyone's pulling everyone else's strings and secretly making their own maneuvers.

Had the story not strayed into non-comic territory, it might have worked better, but a creepy mobster gets involved, interested in Norman personally as well as for his scientific breakthroughs. The mob and the science all get a once over lightly treatment, which is fine if you don't want bad bad guys or scientific science. Even Tucker's dangerous background gets the gloss-over. There's a romantic comedy set against thriller-lite here.

This is a light and fluffy concoction, and might be perfect for a reader who's in the mood for that and who can forgive the repetitive "the bigger man", "the smaller man", and "the blond" kinds of identifications. Unfortunately, I found that style to be an irritant in a story with a lot of interesting tidbits that get mentioned for an instant but not explored, and contains the dreaded "we've seen the doctors so let's bareback" sex scene that also invokes every man Norman's ever been to bed with.

The end does have a nice little twist for the mobster. "Catching Mr. Right" lets Norman and Tucker catch each other, and ends on a sweet soft sigh. 3 marbles

A Picture is Worth...

Our last prompt pic netted a wonderful story from Ellis Carrington, whose "Amor Prohibido" has shot to the top of my TBR list because I want some more of her writing.

Okay, this fellow surely has a story to explain what's going on here. Any author who spends 100-1000 words to tell us, please also send your cover art, blurb, news, and links. I'll post your short and your latest news. (I'm at CryselleC AT gmail DOT com)

Las Sirenas by Bell Ellis

Las Sirenas CoverTitle: Las Sirenas
Author: Bell Ellis
Cover Artist: Anne Cain
Publisher: Dreamspinner
Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy
Length: 44 pages
Rating: 4 stars out of 5


Review Summary: A deep attachment across a deeper divide makes a bittersweet ending for this human and merman couple.

Blurb

Andrew’s lived all his nineteen years on the Pacific coast, working odd jobs and spending his free time in and on the water. Maybe he’s drifting through life, but it’s been enough, until the day a sudden surge knocks him off his friends’ boat and something—or someone—tosses him back. Now Andrew spends all his free time searching the water for a dream, and to keep it, he's willing to give up everything.

A Bittersweet Dreams title: It's an unfortunate truth: love doesn't always conquer all. Regardless of its strength, sometimes fate intervenes, tragedy strikes, or forces conspire against it. These stories of romance do not offer a traditional happy ending, but the strong and enduring love will still touch your heart and maybe move you to tears.

Review

Bell Ellis sets this story, whose title means "the mermaids," in a small coastal town on the Pacific shore, where the water is chilly enough to need a wetsuit at least part of the year. The locals depend on the ocean, whether to draw the tourists that are the mainstay of the economy, to provide a livelihood, or to go out and leave the rest of humanity behind. Andrew, the protagonist, has never known any life away from the water, but also knows that the sea doesn't care if it kills you.


Andrew, who has no sense of purpose beyond showing up for work more or less on time, enjoys the few cigarettes per day he can afford, and going out on the water with his friends John and Shane, the only humans who actually care about him. He's hard to like at first, living a drifting life, spouting half-baked philosophy, but grows more interesting when his attention is actually engaged. Ellis' prose sets the atmosphere and characterization, which changes subtly once Andrew finds the being that threw him back into the boat. Kris, the young merman, meets him again in the water by the cliffs, singing in the ways described by legend.

He couldn't understand the language, but the song was so beautiful that it had to be about something wonderful, something pure, something that had nothing to do with gritty, dirty beaches and old sandals left as trash along the surfside, something shining and true and meaningful.

Every possible moment after that Andrew spends with Kris or searching for him, and while Kris remains an enigma, Andrew gets glimpses of a hidden society with rules and rituals. His friends worry about him, fearing what those sea-cast eyes portend, but it's Kris' people who are truly enraged. Whether it's the discovery or the relationship, or both, we cannot know, but their wrath falls on Kris. The two youths are both flotsam of their societies now, and have no one to turn to save each other.

HEA-requiring readers have probably left the building by now: this is a Bittersweet title, meaning the ending is perfect for what it has to be, but not happy in any traditional way. I happen to like stories of this sort very well, but not everyone shares this taste.

The whole tone of the story drives toward this ending, the ennui of Andrew's life turning to interest in the mysterious Kris, and they find something that may be love. They are on opposite sides of a gap wide as the ocean, unable to truly communicate. The one sexual scene shows this beautifully: they find a tidal pool, because Andrew cannot stay long under the water, nor can Kris survive long out of it. The poetry of Ellis' language made me accept the ending as inevitable, required, and it was only hours later that the enjoyment took a jolt, when the physical reality set in and I began to question Kris' volition. Andrew's actions make sense in a self-centered and somewhat emo way, but did Kris consent?

This story is a tragedy in the classical sense, in that the conflict arises from the heroes' fatal flaws. In this case, the fatal flaw is daring to care for someone who cannot survive in the other's natural element. But it is certainly a love story. 4 Marbles

A Thousand Word Thursday story from Ellis Carrington

I bit back a curse when we both went for the ball at the same time. Paul yelled from beside me and pain tore through my ribcage when we crashed into each other. For a second everything went black, and when I came to my ears were ringing.

To say nothing of my pounding head.

The next play was more of the same. I swear he made a point of pushing my face into the grass when he tackled me, which was still soft by the way from when it rained on Thursday. So I got him back by pantsing him while he did his stupid touchdown victory dance. Mrs. Carmalli from next door saw the whole thing.

Guess that’s what she gets for being a pervy old woman.

His big paw slapped me on the back while I was on the side, looking for a towel to wipe the Scotts Turf Builder off my face. “Dammit Danny, what was that good for?”

I turned on him and tried to jab my finger into his sternum but it slid right down to his navel cuz of all the sweat. “You tell me, asshole, you’re the one who started it.”


“Me?”

I got all mature-like and rolled my eyes at him, then I crossed my arms over my chest because that sweaty finger had started to slide toward the waistband of his sweats and I was trying to stay mad, not go, ya-know…there. “Yeah, you. You started this fight.”

I started to say more but then a super-loud throat clear made me turn, and there were all the guys, milling around nearby. They were doing that thing where you pretend like you’re not listening but you really are, and I guess they didn’t know if they should keep playing or what. My face burned hotter than it already had been—it was real assholery of Paul and I to air our dirty laundry here in front of everyone, not just makin’ the situation uncomfortable, but holding up the game.
Jeez.

Jerry Vedder gestured vaguely at the rest of the gang “Uh, should we just…”


I waved a hand at them. “Yeah, finish the game, we’re sorry, guys. We’ll meet up at the ‘Gator after, okay?”

I grabbed Paul’s arm and tromped toward the house that we rented together, and headed around the back. I could pretend like we still had some privacy in this, if half the neighborhood didn’t watch us snarling at each other while we trudged through the front door together.

“Fuck! Danny, let the hell go, will ya?”

I turned again when we got to the back porch.

“Why you gotta be like that, Paul, it’s effed-up to go airing our business in front of the guys like that.”

His eyes got wide. Damn, I loved those eyes. Deep brown, and when he was turned-on they were like these bottomless wells you could fall into and never return from. Not that you’d want to.

He ran a hand through his hair. It was just long enough you could tangle your fingers in it— I shook my head to clear it. That was totally the wrong train of thought.

“Danny,” he finally said, “We were playing ball. I wasn’t playing any differently than usual. You were the one who starting showing bad sportsmanship. I tried to apologize for running into you like that earlier, but you wouldn’t listen. You get so closed-up when you’re mad.” He breathed out a shaky, nervous kind of laugh. He did that a lot when he was uncomfortable, especially when we had anything that resembled an emotional kind of talk. Let’s face it—guys don’t like those.

He took a step toward me, and I took a few back, pushing through the porch door and into the kitchen. He followed. Those eyes of his, they were getting darker. And me, I’m a grudge-holder. I wasn’t done being mad just yet.

“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry. Whatever it was.” He laughed again. “See, I don’t remember. Do you? I remember you started it.” But he smiled when he said it.

My back hit our ugly 1970’s goldenrod refrigerator and I stopped. My jaw clamped tight and the crazy-loud scream of my teeth grinding together echoed inside of my head. I couldn’t exactly remember either. It had something to do with…something he’d said that made me feel stupid. Paul was better educated and more into news and current events and whatnot. “Sometimes I feel like you think I’m dumb,” I muttered.

He laughed. “Is that what you think?” Another step closer. “Baby, what was it you said to me the other day? ‘Why watch all that depressing shit on the news when you can’t change it.’ I feel like you think I’m the stupid one.” Closer.

“Nah,” I whispered. “You’re…compassionate. I’ve always respected that about you.” But I was having a hard time looking into his eyes now. That part of me that wanted to hang onto my mad was fighting for purchase and if I looked at those eyes now it’d be all over.

His hand worked to unclench my fist and he threaded his fingers through mine. “Well maybe I could learn to be a little more level-headed sometimes. I’m sorry,” he said. “Come on, Danny. What were we really fighting about?”

I shook my head. Shrugged my shoulders. “I guess I don’t know.”

He hooked his other arm around my neck, and when I looked up those deep, dark eyes were staring into mine. “Hey. If we hurry, we can squeeze in some makeup sex before we have to meet the guys at the ‘Gator.”

My cock swelled. I bumped my nose against his. “They’ll know.”

“So? They’ll make fun a little. They’ll be happy we’re not fighting anymore. Yeah?” He licked across my lips, and I let him kiss me, cuz damn…kissing Paul was home for me.

“Yeah,” I said.

We laughed and pulled each other down the hall toward the bedroom.

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Awwww… Thanks, Ellis! I enjoyed this and I’m looking forward to getting into her new release, Amor Prohibido.

Jacob Freehan has no job, no man, and no motivation. In pain both from ending a long-term abusive relationship and a severe back injury, he escapes to the sunny seaside town of Puerto Morelos, Mexico for a little yoga, a little R&R, and possibly a place to quietly end his own life.

Pakal is a centuries-old immortal Mayan spirit guide who has been charged with getting Jacob on the path toward healing. Romantic involvement with a spirit charge is strictly forbidden, and it has never been a problem...until now. Pakal sees something special in Jacob, but failure to keep a rapidly growing attraction at bay could result in Jacob losing his life and Pakal being condemned to the Underworld forever...

Find it at Amazon or at Amber Allure.
Keep up with Ellis’ news at the website or on Facebook, or via Twitter @EroticabyEllis.

Prep Work by PD Singer

Prep Work by PD Singer
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Genre: Contemporary, M/M
Length: 52 pages


Celebrity chef Jude Marshall's ditched his camera crew for the first time in a month—he's been eating his way through local cuisines on several continents for his television show. No spider-on-a-stick this trip, thank God. Jude's exhausted; all he wants on his London layover is a pint of beer and some comfort food. Stumbling into a gastro-pub, Jude instead finds haute cuisine; his grumbles bring him face to face with chef—and fan—Tommy Bell.

When Jude steps into the kitchen to autograph Tommy's copy of his cookbook, he finds himself lending a hand, and discovers it's possible to tenderize a hardened heart.

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Jude Marshall is a prickly guy and his past is littered with the wreckage he's caused by not having a "brain to mouth filter." When he meets chef Tommy Bell in PD Singer's Prep Work, he's on the brink of creating another disaster.


Walking into the Good Man pub messes with Jude's expectations—he's not prepared for either the quality of the food or the attraction of the chef. Tommy Bell knows who Jude is on a public level, he's seen the show and has the cookbook, but he's willing to find out who Jude the man is. That's an experiment that risks flopping before they've known each other a whole day, because Jude can't keep his foot out of his mouth.

Jude's pretty self-aware, he knows he can come across as a jerk and uses it professionally, but when he wants to make a better impression, it's hard, he doesn't know how. He does get a second chance, and Tommy knows that he jumped to some conclusions too, and ought to give that second chance. Tommy's sweet and funny – he gets Jude to laugh, and that opens the way for Jude to show his more private self.

The production crew has to be reckoned with – Marcy and Sam give the impression of being Jude's tight little dysfunctional family, and you can see some jealousy of Tommy for wanting a piece of their Jude. They're emphatic personalities, even with such little page time.

Everyone in this story has to consider the difference between public Jude and private Jude; a misunderstanding with Tommy that Jude spends a lot of effort to correct happens because Tommy forgets there's a difference. Sam and Marcy have to be reminded forcibly that there is a private Jude at all, and Jude needs to find the balance between the two.

The story ends with all kinds of possibilities for Jude and Tommy. That leaves me wanting to know what happens next for this couple, and if Jude will decide he likes jellied eel. 5 marbles

Library Science Just Got Sexy by EM Lynley

Library Science Just Got Sexy by EM Lynley
Publisher: Silver Publishing
Genre: Contemporary, M/M
Length: 33 pages


Drake Talbott is a young university professor with a big secret: he's been dating a student. Hunky, handsome Kerry Monroe isn't in any of Drake's classes, but he has a public sex kink that Drake is in no particular hurry to curb. In fact Kerry's brought out a wilder side of Drake that he never knew he possessed. When an extracurricular tryst in the library stacks nearly brings their relationship to the attention of the powers that be at the university, Drake's just not sure whether his career will survive Kerry's appetites--or his own.



In EM Lynley's short, hot, and exhibitionistic story, Kerry and Drake are a newly formed pair, who have every reason to keep their activities under wraps. Drake's professorship might not survive the exposure. Library Science Just Got Sexy shows us a couple of guys who just can't keep their hands off each other.


These two haven't solidified as a couple; they're still finding out about each other, and their explorations turn into quite a lot of steamy sex. Drake's fears of exposure are on the opposite ends of the spectrum from Kerry's love of the edge, though he's rapidly figuring out what Kerry likes about semipublic adventures. Drake does have a lot on the line, but he wants to please Kerry, who's young enough to think of the thrills ahead of the risks.

Kerry doesn't completely disregard the risks to Drake, and that's where this story gels. Each man has to work to getting what he wants and needs while still respecting the other's wants and needs—they do it well enough that you can tell that these two are going to make it as a couple, and possibly induce heart attacks in the readers, too. 4 marbles

Make You Sweat by Pia Veleno

Make You Sweat by Pia Veleno
Publisher: Loose-ID
Genre: LGBT Contemporary
Length: 163 pages
Ready for change, Tyler Pierce has the whole summer ahead of him when he flies to Sand Piper Beach to turn over a new leaf. Sun, swimming, exercise, he'll return home a new man, sexy and buff. Best of all, several states away from home and college, no one but his dad knows him, so he can muddle through the challenges of getting fit without friends laughing at him.

During his first visit to the fitness center, Tyler meets the sculpted and toned Cody Dawson, fitness instructor and sexy gay man. Not only does Cody help Tyler learn how to use the strength training equipment, but he crashes through Tyler's fantasies and lures him into bed.

Just a passing fling, Tyler decides. Cody, after all, could get any number of better looking men without even trying. Besides, the summer doesn't last forever and, too soon, Tyler will return to campus leaving Cody to the ex who wants him back. A summer fling can grow into something more, but it's up to Tyler to recognize if it's true love or just heated summer lust.

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Tyler, with his senior year of college ahead of him, is on that cusp of near independence and tentative adulthood that makes his still-spindly frame a source of frustration. Make Me Sweat brings him farther into maturity, and Pia Veleno has captured his insecurities and small triumphs on the way.


Tyler is ready to bring his physique into line with his life; spending his summer working out throws him together with Cody, the best looking guy on the beach. Tyler has trouble believing that Cody's for real on finding him desirable for more than a night or two, and I did too. Cody's head over heels for Tyler based on nothing more substantial than his body type, and I thought Tyler's wariness was a good thing. We're in Tyler's head for most of the story, and his inner thoughts, outer actions, and huge personal growth make some great reading.

Cody is not so clearly drawn – he's yummy but a little fuzzy on relationships. He wants Tyler, but he's not firm enough on the ex-ness of an ex to convince either Tyler or the ex. The few times we have his POV, it doesn’t illuminate him very much. Still, props for recognizing that being a twink is one but not the best of Tyler's attractions.

The other secondary characters, Tyler's father and Cody's ex, provide some tension, but the father is mostly around to spout homophobic comments, and his display of jerk-itude is over the top, especially considering the complete dysfunction of his relationship with his ex-wife and son. Tyler's reaction to his father, though, is a true-feeling back and forth of wanting to stand up to him as an adult, cower down like a child, and avoid him as self-preservation. The father does have a redemption of sorts, and Tyler is man enough to accept it for what it is. The ending is cluttered with convenient revelations about the father and the ex, who would be a more credible threat had he been more charming.

It's Tyler, with his growth and evolution, who makes this story, and he deserves a great big smooshy hug for making such a huge step into maturity. He and Cody have more to explore, which offers hope for a sequel. 3.5 marbles

Finding Deaglan by George Seaton

Finding Deaglan by George Seaton
Publisher: MRL Press
Genre: Contemporary, M/M
Length: 457 pages


A coterie of inheritors of Denver's old money, including twenty-four year old Stephen Thaxton, find themselves inextricably entwined in an imperative to close a hoary circle left open in the other world, the other side where retribution is sought for wrongs committed by their progenitors a century before; wrongs that eradicated wolves from Colorado, and saw the indigenous Indian tribes of Colorado robbed of their lands, all to enhance the wealth and privilege of those who now find themselves the last of their family lines.

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Finding Deaglan is a big, sweeping novel, ranging a hundred and more years through time, involving many of the leading families of Denver. Fortunes were dragged out of the mountains, grave injustices done, and now George Seaton spins a Gothic yarn to right some part of the damage.


The ensemble cast features the last scions of many of Denver's leading families, which made their fortunes in ways both fair and foul. A hundred years removed from the original crimes, the author makes sure we know these are much nicer people, who right wrongs, do business honestly, and bounce small children on their knees, but they are still expected to pay for crimes that echo through time. What happened in the historical massacre Seaton invokes and in the deliberate slaughter of the wolves was awful, but horror on horror has to be added to the ancestral crimes, until we are sure their hearts were so evil that their sins ought to be visited unto the seventh generation, except that the families are ending a few generations short.

The most interesting characters are Merriweather, the psychic who interprets the paranormal goings on, Tasha, the young Native American woman who has been trained by her grandfather, Two Looks, in the old ways, Two Looks, who is still quite spry for being a hundred years old, and Mobley, the irascible lawyer who is unfortunately not given his worthy opponent. The other voices tend to blend together. They, with Deaglan, the mysterious baby, have a task to complete on behalf of the spirits: wolf, human, and Wolf. The paranormal elements are only understood by a few; it remains an open question precisely what they accomplish.

This story was a learning experience – I hit the dictionary several times. Some of the text is luminous:

Trummel looked up, smiled into the exquisite blue of the April sky that hovered just above the tops of the tallest of those Seventeenth Street edifices where the rich, no, the extremely wealthy did their deals and perhaps cavorted with the devil as they counted their millions.

Some is just long: sentences with four actions and two descriptions each aren't uncommon, and every single motion is important enough to mention. Every small step of preparing a cup of coffee, for example, isn't that fascinating. A stronger editorial hand could have trimmed the irrelevant, redirected an off-the-wall subplot with Finster and Mobley into something that connected better with the main story, and softened some black-and-white ancestral issues into less heavy-handed and more interesting shades of gray.

Finding Deaglan has some wonderful scenes and some true horror; readers looking for a pure romance story will not be happy here, but those who want a paranormal with gay characters will find something to enjoy. 3 Marbles

A Picture is Worth...

It's Thursday and I'm organized enough to have a pic again! Our last piccy of the little green dragon got us not one but two fab fics. Angela Benedetti and JB McDonald produced entire short stories, which honest guys, is lovely but also beyond the call of duty. But highly worth reading, as are Angela's urban fantasy novel, A Hidden Magic (which I loved and read in my pre-reviewer days, woulda been a 5 marble) and JB's Dragon stories (Dragon Hunted was a 5 marble/5 Diva read).

One hundred to one thousand words will do it. A new ficlet or an excerpt if it fits, and I'll post it here with links, covers, and blurbs.

I didn't get to go to GayRomLit but...

Gee that sounded like a good time. All the posts and pics, stories from the lucky ones. Maybe I can go next year! The best part is that I have reading privileges in that stack of books Pam brought back.

But I do have some news of my own! We'll see what I've let myself in for in trying to shift styles, but I will be doing a couple of guest reviews for Jessewave! Maybe she'll keep me!

I will still be doing reviews for Dark Divas, and there won't be any overlap; the books that are offered are not necessarily the same ones. Anything with girlbits at all is definitely Dark Diva material. Wave has been agreeable about cross-posting to here as well, and it looks like it's going to be interesting. I already have a couple of books, so I'm going to run off and read now!

Look who else rewrote my awful blurb!

Eden Winters took mercy on my awful blurb and gave it her own humorous twist.  I'd read the story when it's sold like this.

The latest blurb that goes with a real story is this one -- read it, loved it, review coming soon. That tag line was a LOL

By the time Galen Olaf-kin woke up and smelled the spiced ale, it was too late, and he never finished the wicked deed for which he stood trial. Banished from his home, he flees to the forest, taking nothing but the unwanted infant he's rescued. Perhaps the legends are true and the forest lord will take them both in. The lord is said to give sanctuary to outcasts, but none of the stories mention the naughty, tempting things he whispers, or that he shares Galen's forbidden passions.

Lord Erik rolls his eyes at the prophecy that says when human hands deliver a babe to the forest, he’ll meet the mate destined to reunite forest folk with humankind. What interest has he in a child? The handsome human who brings the babe is another matter entirely, and a little thing like destiny won't stand in Erik's way of claiming the golden-haired Galen as his own. Or will it?

Sometimes prophecies are overrated, legends incomplete, and heroes not always the sharpest swords in the scabbard.

Find it here. 

Snowbound by Scarlet Blackwell

Snowbound by Scarlet Blackwell
Publisher: Silver Publishing
Genre: Contemporary, M/M
Length: 120 pages


Hayden Berry is lost in a small South Dakota town after crashing his car, when he is rescued by Deputy Sheriff Dylan Hubble and taken home for the night. One night turns into two when they are snowed in and instant attraction turns into life-long love.

But Hayden isn't free to be with Dylan and he leaves, the memory of that winter casting a shadow over the rest of his life...

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The lonely roads between the small towns of the American West are a bad place to have car trouble – help may be a long time coming. For Hayden Berry, a wreck late at night in a February storm brings more than just rescue. Deputy Sheriff Dylan Hubble finds Hayden before he dies of exposure. Scarlett Blackwell's Snowbound gives them a chance to fall in love.


One day's shelter in Dylan's home while Hayden's car is repaired turns into two – giving Hayden a chance to revise his attitudes about his own sexuality. He's acknowledged his desire for men but never acted on it, having married a woman who's waiting for him at home. Dylan's very open about his desires – the two end up in bed fairly fast, and are very, very inclined to stay there, but honor wins out. I loved this section of the book, for admitting that previous commitments can't just be dropped because new bonds are formed.

When Hayden is at last free to seek out Dylan again, he's got to be prepared for Dylan's moving on with his life in the many years since they said goodbye. There is a happy ending for them but not until a secondary character behaves very strangely. The effect is not "totally romantic;" instead it calls everyone's understanding of healthy relationships into question. Another twenty or so pages of exploration and resolution to achieve their togetherness and I'd accept it and love it, but this happened very, very fast.

There were so many inaccuracies regarding the setting that I was gritting my teeth trying to stay in the story. Streetlights and sidewalks do not exist in the 20 to 50 mile stretches between small towns in South Dakota; we're lucky if they exist within a town of five hundred people, who all know each others' business. Leaving on a two thousand mile car trip in winter without a spare or emergency gear is to ignore reality, and leaving the car in a storm, even if it's undrivable, is a good way to die. This story is set in my, and a lot of readers' "back yard," and such things are glaring.

The first section of the book is glorious and passionate, but it still isn't enough foundation for the ending. The same kind of serious issue that kept them apart in the beginning exists at the end, but is not worked through. Consequently, the ending feels rushed and Hayden and Dylan's senses of honor, one of the shining things in the first section, is displayed but unused. The spell woven throughout Snowbound was undone for me by the speed, and I was very sorry to be snapped out of it. 3 Marbles

Look who rewrote my awful blurb!

Yesterday I posted about blurbs, and part of it was a challenge to fix my horrible blah-blah blurb. Of course there's no story attached to it (yet, although Josephine Myles has admitted to liking the idea enough to be tempted. Go for it, Josephine; it's all yours and I'll be first in line for a copy.) To see what they wrote, check the comments in yesterday's post.

So far, three authors have taken up the challenge to turn this mess into something interesting. Being the curious person that I am, I had to check out the blurbs that they write for their own work. Here's the latest from the three brave souls, and if anyone else wants to try, this challenge stays open.
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PD Singer gave us a slick, short story style blurb, way higher on the "I'd read that" scale than where it started. Her latest is out from Dreamspinner: find it here.  (I've read it, loved it, review to follow.)

Prep Work
Celebrity chef Jude Marshall’s ditched his camera crew for the first time in a month—he’s been eating his way through local cuisines on several continents for his television show. No spider-on-a-stick this trip, thank God. Jude’s exhausted; all he wants on his London layover is a pint of beer and some comfort food. Stumbling into a gastro-pub, Jude instead finds haute cuisine; his grumbles bring him face to face with chef—and fan—Tommy Bell.

When Jude steps into the kitchen to autograph Tommy’s copy of his cookbook, he finds himself lending a hand, and discovers it’s possible to tenderize a hardened heart.

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Josephine Myles treated my silly subjects with the puns they deserve in a Samhain style blurb, and this is also a lot more enticing than the original.  Josephine's recently released a novel with Samhain, which I've read, enjoyed, and reviewed, and you can find here.

Barging In

When the boat's a rockin’, don't come knockin’!

Out-and-proud travel writer Dan Taylor can’t steer a boat to save his life, but that doesn’t stop him from accepting an assignment to write up a narrowboat holiday. Instead of a change of pace from city life, though, the canal seems dull as ditchwater. Until he crashes into the boat of a half-naked, tattooed, pierced man whose rugged, penniless appearance is at odds with a posh accent.

Still smarting from past betrayal, Robin Hamilton’s “closet” is his narrowboat, his refuge from outrageous, provocative men like Dan. Yet he can’t seem to stop himself from rescuing the hopelessly out-of-place city boy from one scrape after another. Until he finds himself giving in to reluctant attraction, even considering a brief, harmless fling.

After all, in less than a week, Dan’s going back to his London diet of casual hook-ups and friends with benefits.

Determined not to fall in love, both men dive into one week of indulgence…only to find themselves drawn deep into an undertow of escalating intimacy and emotional intensity. Troubled waters neither of them expected…or wanted.

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Product Warnings

Contains one lovable tart, one posh boy gone feral, rough sex, alfresco sex, vile strawberry-flavoured condoms, intimate body piercings, red thermal long-johns, erotic woodchopping, an errant cat, a few colourful characters you wouldn't touch with a bargepole, and plenty of messing about on the river. 

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And Lou Harper has come to play!  This rewritten blurb tells me I'm in for a roller-coaster of a ride, and it sounds like fun. This is where I admit I haven't read any of Lou's work, but that has to change. This one looks like a great place to start:

Hanging Loose

When you fall in love, it can't be all just hanging loose...

After graduating from art school Nate left the Midwest for sunny Southern California, not quite sure what he hoped to find. It was almost certainly not falling in love with another man. His whole world and assumptions about himself begin to slowly turn upside down on one hot summer day. Seeking respite from the heat and his loneliness at Venice Beach he has a chance encounter with a handsome blond surfer. 

Jez is friendly, easygoing, and just a little bit mysterious. Openly gay, Jez offers cutie Nate a place to stay, and the two men become fast friends. Nate makes new friends, adjusts to his new life, but his unbidden attraction to Jez keeps growing. In their moments of closeness Nate realizes that he wants Jez more than just a friend, but it might be too late. To make Jez his, Nate has to face not only his own fears and insecurities, but his mysterious mate has secrets of his own.
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Thanks for playing, guys, I know this isn't the easy fun part of writing.

Blurbs and Spoilers

The blurb is the first thing most people see after the title when they are making reading decisions. In our end of publishing, based on an informal survey, the author seems to be the one responsible for the final blurb. Only one of the publishers mentioned by my respondees drafts a blurb, and that pub also wants author input for the final. One wants a long blurb, which they edit into final form. That leaves a lot of responsibility on the authors' shoulders for an ad in 50 to 200 words to say "come read more!"

Also judging from the amount of grumbling heard, this isn't easy to do. Judging from what I've seen in my hunt for stories, it's hard to do well. This is a lure, not a complete arc, and authors are trained to do a beginning, middle and end to stories (well, most are) which a blurb shouldn't have.


Some blurbs I've seen recently had a whole lot too much information. By the time I got to the end, I felt I'd met a synopsis, complete with everything but the final resolution, and once or twice, that was in there too. TMI, and not enticing. Not just because I felt like I already knew what was going on, but because I was afraid that the flaw of trying to tell too much would be reflected in flaws in the writing.

Writing a review without horrible spoilers is harder than I ever thought. One thing though, if the element is mentioned in the blurb, it quits being a spoiler if I talk about it in the review. The author put it out there, I'll use it. I'll still try not to be too detailed, but it's fair game, the author said so.

I review and offer opinions, but I'm basically a loudmouth reader and want to spend my time with a good book. Every file I open is one I want to love, and I've probably been scared away from some good stories by some bad blurbs.

Sometimes the tone of the blurb doesn't match the tone of the book. Sometimes the blurb is so dull that only a leap of faith gets me to read. Sometimes that leap of faith goes unrewarded. And this is the worst of all – sometimes the blurb is the best part of the book.

What makes a good blurb? A reader wants to know a couple of things. Who are the main characters? What makes them interesting? What are they up against in terms of the relationship? What are they up against in the outside world? Put those in the blurb, it attracts me. But don't tell me how they fix it.

If this is all laid out in 1-2-3 fashion and each separate bit is interesting, I might forgive that the combo doesn't sparkle and read it. We've all seen blurbs with the charm of paint by number paintings.

Joe Shmoe is a twenty-something shoe salesman with a thing for boots. His love life sucks since his last boyfriend left him for a soybean farmer. He hasn't fondled any feet or eaten any tofu in six months and he's lonesome.

Patrick Hatrack is a vegetarian accountant and never wears boots. His evil sister says he HAS to come to the party dressed as Dr. Frank N Furter, bringing him into Joe's shoe store. Joe can help him find boots but will Patrick help Joe find love?

Oh, there's another thing that isn't enticing, ending the blurb on a question that can be answered "Well, duh. It's a romance, of course it will/they will." "Can their love survive?" is an automatic eye-roller for me. I might still read it, but honestly now, that's a "Well, duh" question. Except in the Bittersweet line at Dreamspinner, which I really like, BTW, though I know it's not for everyone.

I'm making all this up. Any resemblance to any story in print is accidental, but anyone who wants to write it is welcome. Also warped. There's enough in there of interest that I'd consider reading. But it could be so much better.

Anyone who wants to take a whack at rewriting this blurb for fun and giggles is welcome to it. Make up a story detail or two of your own if you want. And as a reward, I'll post an example of one of your real blurbs. :D

Tell me what you think about blurbs, writing or reading them,  and how much they influence your reading choices.

Stroke to His Cox by JL Merrow

Stroke to His Cox by JL Merrow
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Genre: Contemporary, Erotic Romance, M/M, GLBT
Length: 25 pages

As coxswain of a Cambridge college rowing team, pint-sized Dave Tanaka has eight strapping athletes hanging on his every word, their strength at his command. Leading his crew to win their oars might be easier if Dave didn’t have to hide his crush on Archie, the stroke rower – but as they prepare for their final race, Dave doesn’t suspect that Archie is in the same boat as him in more ways than one!

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Every now and then one finds a little gem, with a great deal packed into a small space. JL Merrow gives us that with Stroke to His Cox. The coffee-snort inducing title begins weaving the sport of rowing into Dave and Archie's personal life from the very start.


Merrow gets quite a lot of the technicalities of rowing in very naturally, and many terms definitely lend themselves to a sly second meaning. Dave, the coxswain, or cox, has to keep from showing his desire for big, handsome Archie, whose position, stroke, puts them face to face every time they go out on the river. Even for those of us who know nothing of the sport, she makes us feel the breezes and see the veins standing out on the rowers' forearms. She also makes us feel Dave's anxiety over being the tiny one among giants—he commands them but won't risk people comparing his legs to theirs.

The race is very exciting; though the explanation of what they are trying to accomplish slows the pace of the story for a moment, it's essential because otherwise only the knowledgeable would understand what's going on, it's a game of overtaking rather than straight out speed. It's easy to imagine the desire coming off both men as a little jet engine pushing them down the river with every stroke, they both want to impress but neither is sure of the other's interest.

When they do come together, it's very sweet, so much is said in a few words.

"I'm the cox. You're supposed to watch me.”

“None of them watch you like I do.”

They have a lot to celebrate; touchy Dave and solid Archie are going to be a wonderful pair, and that gives us reason to celebrate too. 5 marbles

A Thousand Word Thursday Story from Angela Benedetti

Custody

Branden had just sat down on a stump in his yard to catch his breath after a good hour of log splitting when he heard a whirr of wings. It might have been a hummingbird, or a really huge bee, but he had a feeling it wasn't. Sure enough, a moment later a tiny green dragon lighted on his knee.

"Flicker! Not again!" He sighed and stroked the little dragon's snout with one fingertip. Flicker took to the air again and zipped around his head three times, then took off into a nearby elm tree to chase a crow through the nearly-bare branches. The larger bird cawed his anger for a few minutes, but ended up flapping away. Flicker chased him out of the cleared yard and into the wood, beyond Branden's sight, then zipped back again alone, fluting his pleasure over dominating Branden's small stretch of land.

Branden watched him swoop here and there about the yard, investigating the low stone house and the autumn-churned vegetable garden, and re-establishing his benevolent domination over the chickens, which ignored him as was their habit.

Then Flicker zipped back to to Branden's knee and made a tweetling noise that sounded like a question. Branden shook his head and felt his pleasure in watching the dragonling fade. "I really shouldn't, baby. If I keep feeding you, you'll keep coming, and that's not... not good."

The next tootle sounded more like a demand, and the little dragon punctuated it with an angry orange flame the length of Branden's thumbnail.


"Ho, all right!" Branden had to laugh at the offended indignation Flicker radiated. He was too small to really hurt anything larger than a hound -- or an over-proud crow -- but he always seemed to get his own way just the same.

And of course, Branden just happened to have a handful of smalt, the tiny dried fish Flicker loved, tucked into his belt. It was a habit left over from when he and the little dragon had dwelled together, and he hadn't broken the habit because... well, because Flicker kept coming back to him.

He pulled out the small packet of oilcloth and unrolled it, then picked up one of the little fish and tossed it into the air. Flicker zipped after it, caught it, and landed on top of Branden's head to crunch it down.

"Your hair is going to smell like fish for a week."

The scolding voice was both familiar and expected. It also made Branden's head duck and his heart clench, although he was able to keep himself from visibly wincing, which was an improvement. Little by little, right? Maybe some day he wouldn't react at all when he heard Tol's voice.

"I know," he said, "but he fusses if I try to shoo him off, and it makes even more of a mess." Tol knew that too; it was just something to say that gave Branden something to say back.

He heard Tol huff out a sigh, then his footsteps approaching through the dry grass. "You know if you keep feeding him, he's going to keep coming back."

"Yes, I do know," Branden answered, "but he gets so upset if I say no, I can't hold out."

"You should just keep him."

"We tried that, remember? He shows up at your place anyway, just like he shows up at mine now."

"Maybe if you just never came for him...?"

"We tried that too." Branden was doing his best to keep the impatience out of his voice, but Tol was just going over everything they'd thought of, everything they'd tried, everything that hadn't worked. It was always the same -- he was so logical, so methodical, and it was all so useless. "You're the one who sent me a note saying to come get him that last time, that he was getting hysterical. And then when I did finally show up, he buzzed me like an angry bluejay."

"I know!" Tol lowered his voice and repeated, "I know. I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do." He came closer and settled down on the sand-colored grass, crossing his feet and then lowering himself into a sit, as neat and graceful as anyone Branden had ever seen. Branden loved to watch him move, just walking down a path, or carrying in firewood, or shaping clay with his slender hands glistening.

Branden tossed another smalt for Flicker, who zipped up to snatch it out of the air, then zipped back to the top of Branden's head. Branden heard him crunching, and could feel the grip of claws in his hair and the patter of tiny fish bits.

"I always loved how tolerant you are," said Tol. There was a note of longing in his voice. "I've never been able to just ignore things like that. Like fish scales in my hair -- it's disgusting and I don't know how you stand it. But it makes Flicker happy so you just... I don't know, don't care or ignore it or whatever it is you do that lets you stand to have a dragon eating fish on your head without your skin crawling."

"He likes it, and it doesn't bother me. I can comb out the bits after, and the oil makes my hair shiny." Branden threw Tol a grin, but he had to put some effort into it.

Branden had always been the tolerant one in their relationship. He never had to make much of an effort; when someone important to him -- or some thing, like Flicker -- was happy, that made Branden happy too, and he'd never been one to fuss over little things. That was Tol's job, fussing and straightening and insisting that everything be just so. It came in handy, truly, because some things really were best done just so, and for a while, the two of them had complemented one another to a fair note, mostly by Branden giving in and doing things the way Tol wanted them.

But there were so many little fusses and fribbles that didn't make any sense to Branden, more than he could remember without making a production out of it. Who cared whether the new milk was in a bowl or a pitcher, so long as it was in the cold cellar? Why did it matter that his dirty shirts were on the floor in the corner when they wanted washing anyway? They weren't in the way, so why fuss?

"Maybe... maybe one of us could move," Tol suggested, his voice slow and hesitant. "Maybe if Flicker didn't know where to find whoever he wasn't living with, if there was more than half a league between us, he'd learn to be content?"

"Were you thinking of moving, then?" Branden asked. He had to admit it might work, but he wasn't keen on uprooting himself and moving out of the range of a determined dragonling.

"I... perhaps." Tol watched Flicker chase away a bumblebee, then come zipping back for another fish. "Lady Cadridge is still nagging me to accept that year's patronage she's been offering for an oak's age. If I accepted, she'd be pleased if I moved nearer to her. I could probably get her to include a cottage right on the estate if I asked sweetly."

A tiny fin fluttered down past Branden's nose. He blew it off his upper lip, unable to look at Tol.

"It's a fine opportunity," he allowed, still staring off into the trees. "I've always granted that. Her Ladyship is a bit difficult at times, but your work would come to the attention of other nobles and wealthy folk. You'd be set up fine even if you left her after your year."

"I know. I mean, yes, it would be very good for my reputation. It would open many doors."

Tol didn't sound terribly enthusiastic for someone who was talking about a bright future with many expensive commissions.

"If that's what you want to do, then you should do it," said Branden. "It's your life. I'd be happy to have Flicker if you can't keep him."

Tol groaned and fell backwards, flat into the grass. "I don't know! Or rather, I do know -- I don't want to be beholden to Lady Cadridge for even a month, much less a whole year. But we can't keep... doing this. We need to stay away from one another and Flicker won't let us and it's driving me to melancholy. I can't do this anymore!" He crossed his arms over his eyes, as though he were blocking out the world.

Even lying on the dried, dusty grass, Tol was beautiful. Branden knew Lady Cadridge wanted to have him under her patronage not only for the fine pottery he made, but also as a jewel in her court. Having Tol move onto her estate would please her very much, Branden knew. And if Tol didn't agree to move, she'd be summoning him as often as she could, sending her carriage for him, providing fine clothes and shoes and whatever all else he might need to grace her salons, defeating every protest.

She'd be a generous patron, Branden knew that. And he still resented her for it, because all she saw was Tol's flawless skin and graceful movements, his fine cheekbones and broad shoulders, his huge brown eyes and the perfect tiny corkscrew curls of his hair. It was all surface, all about being able to look at a beautiful thing and say "Mine," and have her noble friends envy her the possession.

Branden had loved Tol since they were both gawky teenagers, back when Tol was skinny and awkward and tripping over his own suddenly-grown feet. Branden loved how Tol could find beauty in so many things, and create it with his hands. He loved Tol's precision, his determination that everything be exactly perfect, and his ability to make it so if determination could achieve it.

But that same yearning for everything to be just right had pried them apart. Branden couldn't be like that, couldn't live like that, couldn't change himself into that -- not even for Tol.

"I don't know what to do. I don't want you to go, but I don't know how to make you want to stay." Why not say it? Branden thought. He's going to leave, going to move out into the world, to a more beautiful place where everyone is raised to do things just so. Tol's a natural; he should have been born there. He's just going where he belongs.

Tol made a distinctly un-beautiful noise and rolled over, his face still buried in his crossed arms. He had dust and grass stems and a couple of crawly bugs stuck to the back of his jerkin and britches; it was the messiest Branden had ever seen him since... well, ever.

Flicker zipped down and picked off first one bug, then the other, gulping them down and then tootling triumph as though he'd just killed a pair of wyverns by himself.

"I don't want to know what he's doing, do I?" asked Tol's muffled voice.

"No, you don't. They're gone now, though."

Branden watched a full-body shudder pass through Tol from his head to his ankles.

Tol rolled over and sat up, all in one smooth move. He looked up at Branden and said, "So you don't want me to go?"

"No."

"But what difference would it make? Aside from perhaps solving our problem with Flicker? We're not together anymore, so why does it matter where I live?"

"We do see each other, though. I can't... we couldn't seem to, to live together. But I still like seeing you." Branden looked away and shrugged. "I like knowing you're about, and knowing that I'll pass you on the road, or see you in the village. And I like that Flicker brings us together every few days."

"That's why you keep feeding him."

"No, I feed him because he gets upset if I don't, and I can't stand to see him upset."

"You can't stand to see anyone upset. You're the most accommodating person I've ever met."

"I can't stand to see people I care about upset. It's not just everyone."

"Branden...." The helpless tone made Branden look at him again.

"Branden, we can't do this. It doesn't work. We tried, remember? Even more than we've tried with Flicker, and it doesn't work."

"But we haven't tried not living together," said Branden. Then he stopped and thought about what had just come out of his mouth.

"We've been 'not' living together for the last four months," protested Tol.

"No, I mean, we haven't tried being together, but living apart." It sounded crazed, but not. Branden started to feel hopeful for the first time in, well, nearly a year, which was about the length of time he'd started tip-toeing around Tol at home.

"What, pretending we're courting again? We did that already and we couldn't wait to be together always."

"But we didn't know. I mean, we didn't know it wouldn't work." Branden slid off the stump and onto his knees in front of Tol. He reached out and laid a hand lightly on Tol's brown wrist. "I love you. I still do. I can't not -- I've tried that too and it didn't work either. I can't seem to make you happy if we're living together, so what if we just didn't live together? You could stay in your place and have it exactly as you like it, and I could stay in mine and be my own self in it, and we could get together whenever we liked.

"We could even trade sleeping back and forth, so long as we didn't try to, to... I don't know, make each other's homes our own. You never, well hardly ever tried to fuss around when you visited me before, remember? And I always -- all right, mostly remembered to leave your things exactly how you left them, because they were yours, not ours. It's different in someone else's home. So if we each have our own home, it'd feel different when we vist, and we wouldn't fuss each other so much." He paused, then asked, "Could we try? Please?"

Tol stared at him for a handful of heartbeats, then beamed one of his sunrise smiles. "You're brilliant. Have I ever told you I love how you always see the simple answer?"

"You might have mentioned that a time or two," said Branden, smiling back. "It took me a while to see this one, though."

"I'll wager Flicker saw it. He's been waiting for his brainless people to catch on." Tol held out a hand and Flicker settled onto it. He got finger-rubs from both his people, and gave a happy tweetle.

"So we'll try?"

"We'll try. I'm here, and it's nearly supper time, so I might as well stay the night, yes?"

"Yes. I even have some clean linen I can lend you in the morning."

"I'd appreciate that," murmured Tol. He got up onto his own knees and leaned into Branden. "You always took care of me beautifully, when you weren't driving me crazy."

"You were always easy to take care of, except when you were going crazy."

"But we're going to fix that, yes?"

"Yes," said Branden, and he leaned forward for a kiss.

This was how things were supposed to be, neat and precise, everything in its place, which meant Tol in his arms, and in his bed. Or himself in Tol's bed, either one.

Perfect.
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Thanks, Angela, for this wonderful story, it's wonderful. Really--wow. And this same author has a really wonderful novel that I read (before I started reviewing but would have given a 5 marble review to) and just loved.

Fey incursions into the mortal world have been on the rise, and Paul MacAllister's trying to figure out what the king of the local Elven enclave Under the Hill is up to and how to stop it. Rory Ellison was caught up in one of those attacks and nearly killed by a gang of goblins. He doesn't believe they were real, though, and is resisting anything Paul might say to the contrary.

Normally Paul would be willing to let Rory go his own way, at least until he's taken care of more immediate business. But Rory has a particularly rare gift, one the Elven king needs to have under his control in order to carry out his plan. Keeping Rory away from the fey who will use him, to death if necessary, means protecting him night and day, whether Rory agrees or not.

Find A Hidden Magic and several other stories in this universe here at Torquere.

Angela said she's working on a sequel, which is great news! First dibs, line forms to my left. :D  And for anyone who's going to be in New Orleans for GayRomLit, say hi to Angela there, she gets to hang with Eden Winters and PD Singer and a bunch more authors and readers who are going to have a wonderful time.

Interesting Search Words

Now and then I look at my site stats, like who comes around and where they come from. How they get here. Stuff like that.

I got a bunch of queries lately including "mediafire" and "download".

NO.

You won't ever get help for piracy from me. The authors work hard, they sell entertainment for coin, and they deserve to get paid for amusing you. I pay for my stories with words, I have to say something intelligent about what I read, and if I just want to read, I pay for it.

Support your authors. They give you pleasure, or entertainment, or even eyerolls, but they give you something. Just like cable or HBO. Steal that and sooner or later crabby people with wirecutters show up at your door. Authors don't have that protection yet. They should.

Just because it's electronic doesn't mean it's free. And don't EVER expect me to help you steal.